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#why are you putting yourself in a There Was Only One Bed fic when there are in fact several beds!
starboye · 2 days
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starring: tate langdon x male reader
request: omgg can u do a tate langdon obsessive boyfriend fic
warnings: smut, cursing, flff, bondage, kinda sub!tate and dome!reader at times, mentions of offing someone, jerking off, some pervert actions, jealous!tate
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he'll never actually say it but you know he's an obsessive boyfriend and that's why you love him, he'll do absolutely anything for you, just name it and he's one it, you want him to get you something to eat? done. you want him to give you a massage? done. oh you want him to fuck you till you can't walk? well he'll do that without you having to ask.
but one thing he will never admit even over his dead body is he's jealous, he doesn't know why but when he sees another man even make a small compliment about you he's thinking of the many ways to hide a dead body, only calming down with your words and soft touches across his face.
and damn it was he a sucker for you, putting up a immovable wall in front of everyone else but the second it's just you two alone he's begging you to let him be little spoon during cuddling and pleading for some head scratches, most of all becoming a brainless dildo the moment you take charge in bed, ordering him around makes his knees go weak.
he will occasionally bring you little trinkets or gifts just to show his appreciation for you or even smother you with kisses once you're alone, sometimes even gifting you pictures of yourself that you have no idea how he took them but you still never minded.
if you do the right things he'll become a whimpering mess under you, starting off with slow kisses that turn into making out while you detail everything you love about him, he doesn't even realize you're on top of him while he's laying on the bed, to drunk off your lips and the sudden feeling of your slipping your hands into his pants and jerking him off moaning and whining out your name the whole night like he's high out of his mind.
he would definitely make a playlist about which songs remind him of you and you treasure each and every one of them like they're gold because to you both they are.
he would definitely try bondage if you beg hard enough, like how could say no to those cute eyes and you didn't disappoint, tying his hands to the head board and teases him over and over knowing he couldn't do anything, it was fucking torturous as hell but why was he so turned on by it, maybe because he liked the feeling of being used by a pretty boy like you.
he's to shy to admit it but he jerks off to picture of you, some nights when he can't sleep due to the overwhelming thoughts of you riding him he'll bring out his phone and scroll through your instagram, jerking off to the mere sight of your face, so pretty for him and those lips look so cute he wishes you were the one jerking him off.
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taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft@mindyonastybusiness
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poorlittleyaoyao · 10 months
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no qin su fell asleep every night in the arms of her brother husband like fifteen feet(and okay one mirror portal) away from nie mingjue's severed head
"Ah yes. Me. My brotherhusband. And his resentful six-foot-three sworn brother's severed head."
Okay, but for real, this is boggling my mind. Is this a compromise because cutting off all physical contact made QS too sad and he felt bad? Does he think that sleeping next to his wife somehow makes the part where they're not engaging in any sexual activity less weird to the outside observer? Is he so touch-starved that he's determined that whatever else he's feeling is worth it? Does he feel the need to ensure that servants see them sleeping in the same bed like a Normal Couple (even though Normal Couples of their social status do not in fact do this) so nobody catches on that they're not having sex? JGY, what is happening?
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navybrat817 · 7 months
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Just Like That
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.
If only that were the case.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.
“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.
You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?
Right.
You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”
“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.
He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.
Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?
Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”
“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.
“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”
“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.
The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.
Again, he had to play the part right.
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.
Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.
And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.
Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.
Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”
You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.
“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”
You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.
Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”
“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”
“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.
“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”
“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.
“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.
In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.
Just an agent being kind to another agent.
Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”
“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”
Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.
Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.
Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?
“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.
Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.
He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”
“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”
He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.
His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.
“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”
“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”
You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”
“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.
You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”
Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”
Oh, fuck.
The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”
“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”
Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.
He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.
You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.
You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.
Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.
“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.
Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-
The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.
And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.
“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”
He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”
“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”
“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”
“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”
You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.
He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”
“Why not?”
“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”
“Of course,” he whispered.
You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”
A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”
You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”
Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.
“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”
“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”
He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.
You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.
You never stood a chance.
“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.
And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.
“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”
Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.
His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”
“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.
“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”
It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”
He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.
You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.
“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.
Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.
Crave him.
“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”
Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.
You’d take whatever he gave you.
The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.
“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”
“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.
“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.
One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.
“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”
“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”
He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.
You didn't want him to let you go.
“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”
He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.
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The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.
You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.
“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.
“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.
Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.
“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.
“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”
“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.
“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”
“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”
“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.
Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”
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I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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sleep-0-deprived · 1 month
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can i ask for the yan!roommate's reaction to the reader finding the camera in the bathroom and purposefully jacking off in front of it?
just found out about this blog and i am already hyped we need more subby yans in the world
Yandere roommate imagines (sub Yandere oc) ~!
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A/N so the Yandere is just a random Oc you can imagine it as whoever I just needed a name for the fic! And you’re totally right there aren’t nearly enough sub Yandere as I’d like <33
Imagine you just got home from the gyms and all you wanna do is get into your shower you don’t have many other thoughts in your brain, you would have used the shower at the game but you have a “problem”~ between your legs and you knew you had to get home.
Imagine, you’re stripping your clothes cutting the hot water on as the mirror begins to fog up, your cock pressing to your stomach with precum oozing from the slit as you step in the shower running your fingers through your hair letting out a quiet grunt. You notice something from the corner of your eye when you’re looking up at the shower head, confused you reach for it picking it up you realize it’s a camera.
Imagine you already know who put the camera there I mean how could you not? There was only one man you knew creepy enough to wanna watch you shower and that was you’re roommate, and you know you felt a little generous you thought since you were already hard why not give him a show.
Imagine you sit the camera on a bath shelf and start speaking “I know you’re watching me Lucas” you grin as you bend down a little making sure your face was in full view as you use one hand to run down giving your pec a firm squeeze before gripping at your shaft giving one long stroke. On the other end of the camera Lucas sat in his room in the shared apartment nearly going feral when he sees your hand on your cock.
Imagine his face all red laying originally across his bed he soon gets up hurriedly trapping his laptop making sure the door was locked as he shakily grips the device for dear life feeling himself already aroused by the sight of you touching yourself, wanting nothing more than for your cock to be stuffed inside him as he rubs himself up against his matress letting out a few whines of desperation.
Imagine your hand holding your cock pointed straight at the camera giving him the perfect shot of your veins pulsing beneath your fingers while you bite at your bottom lip “didn’t know u had a total creep of a roommate, Lucas?~” you coo hazily standing in the shower the water running down your body down past your thighs with a few heaves meanwhile Lucas on the other hand wasn’t nearly as calm.
Imagine his hands fumbling with his zipper sitting the laptop on his bed as he pulls his boxers down placing the laptop on his pillows in front of his face as he drools, two fingers shoved between his lips with him laying on his stomach removing his fingers with them all coated in spit as he presses them to his rim pressing one finger in moving it in sync with your hand imagining it was your cock inside him as adrenaline fills his head making his body numb to the pleasure only becoming more infatuated with you each second as he murmurs out “y-es~” over and over.
Imagine when you cum you make sure your cock head is pointed directly at the camera lens, wanting him to see your red, angry looking tip when you climax. Your body tensing up intentionally not letting him see the face you make when you orgasm, only attempting to further tease your roommate with what he can’t seem to fully grasp hold of, which is you. “Hope you enjoyed my little show Lucas”
Imagine when Lucas sees that he’s in a whole other world of need, if he was feral before it was like he was a rabbit in the middle of heat because he pulled his hands away from himself with a little gasp while getting up not even bothering to turn his computer off, pouncing on you as soon as you make it to your bedroom with his brain all fuzzy and fast from your menacing taunts pulling your towel off.
Imagine your night ending with your roommate on top of you his thighs straddling you with his hands gripping your shoulders tightly mewling his lips all parted wide and his eyes half lidded and rolled back glossed over while he erratically lifts himself over and over again riding you harshly even when he feels like his rim is on fire from being stretched so long, you give his ass cheek a slap punching the ref handprint grumbling in his ear “this was what you wanted right?” As you hold his hip tightly grounding yourself deeper inside him pressing to his prostate roughly “then take it Lucas”
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months
Note
👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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sinsofsummers · 1 month
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cupcake
1.9k | teacher!logan x fem!student!reader
(gif not mine!!)
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summary: logan eats you for lunch. warnings: porn! teacher!logan and student!reader, so a bit of a taboo age gap, but an established situationship. oral (f receiving), desperate logan—like he is A LEWSER, p in v, creampie because he doesn’t last long (because he’s a whore), logan is a slut for ur releases mixed together, sub!logan tbh, let me know if i miss any! note: wow. sorry. this was also supposed to be a night of writing a longer fic. but i think this is my brand! short and sweet and salacious little things! enjoy, my loves! also i'm tagging @cavillscurls , @bren-lee-bear0404 , @ieatgoldfishy and @hughverine for this one cause...it just seemed like u guys were extra eager for it hehehe!
You can sense him behind you as you make your way down the corridor, heading for your room. You’ve just gotten out of an exam, and as the relaxation-lover you are, you’re thinking of one thing and one thing only—your bed, and curling up in it.
But just like Logan can sense you at all times, you’re no stranger to the feeling of being under his watchful gaze. It’s a heady feeling, and even though you can’t see him, you know that if you turn around he’ll be just a few paces behind you. 
And maybe you shouldn’t have gotten under your history teacher in an attempt to get over him, but by now it’s far too late. Logan has all but ruined everyone for you, anyway, a fact that you’re sure he would put on a billboard if you’d let him.
You put your head down and pretend to ignore the sound of his footsteps getting faster. 
You smirk. Thankfully the hallway is empty, or you’d have to answer for why your history teacher is chasing you down. 
He’s not exactly discreet; or at least, not when you’re in the same room as him. Whether it’s his intense brown eyes staring you down like a challenge, or his hands somehow finding their way to your shoulders, or your hands, trying to look innocent enough…you’re pretty sure Logan’s made it obvious. 
“Hey.”
There he is.
You pause, about to turn the corner, but he swings a hand around your arm and makes you whirl around to face him. His eyes are hard, but there’s a spark of mischief that has you flashing a tight-lipped smirk back in his face, blinking slowly. 
“Yes, Professor?” you cross your arms, holding the textbooks in your hands to your chest. “Did I miss an assignment?”
Logan’s mouth twitches into an amused grin, and he tilts his head. “C’mere,” he says gently, and tugs you toward the nearest classroom—his own. 
You’ve had your fair share of classes here, but you blush as he closes the door and sidles up behind you, his broad, heavy chest pressing against your back. 
“Where’ve you been, sugar?” His voice is smooth, low, and reeks of sex. You know exactly why you’re here.
Your throat goes dry, but you swallow and turn around, taking a step back. With a wink, you keep your hands clutched to your textbook. “I’ve been working.” 
You’re goading him. “If you hadn’t noticed, I still need to study for my exams,” you say nonchalantly, and watch as he confidently strides forward, following you up to the front of the room. 
In no time at all, his desk hits the backs of your thighs, stopping you from your retreat. Logan’s only a step away from you and capitalizes on it. You’ve got no room to squirm away; he towers over you and puts his hands on his desk, trapping you there.
“Time for a break, I think,” he hums, nipping at your jaw when you chuckle and turn away from his attempt to kiss you. “You’ve been working that brain so hard,” he continues, tugging the textbook out of your hands and tossing it to the floor with a heavy thud. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re still pleased at the admission. You take it upon yourself to hop up on the desk, though it doesn’t give you much more leverage; he’s still got the upper…everything. “Oh, you have?” 
Logan lifts a hand to cup your jaw and neck, bringing your face closer to him. His hand is rough but the guidance of his touch is gentle, and he rests his forehead against yours. His next words are a whisper. “I have,” he nods. “You look so sweet, sugar. Can’t you just take a break?”
Your stomach turns in a familiar knot, and your thighs tense. It’s not that you haven’t fooled around on his desk before. But you really do have exams to study for.
“I know,” you sigh, turning to press a series of kisses to his beard. “I know, I want to be done, too. But I—”
“Then be done,” he whispers, his other hand landing on your thigh. “You’ll pass all your exams, bub, you know you will. Such a smart girl,” he says as his hand creeps toward the inside of your leg. “Why don’t you let me do something for you, smart girl?”
You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek, but it does nothing to hide your smile. “Logan,” you whine, trying your best to sound exasperated. “I can’t just drop my panties for you everytime you want.”
His hand has wandered to the waistline of your shorts; an elastic band is all that bars him from your thin panties. 
“Of course,” he says, and then his eyes dart down to the crux of your legs as he hooks a finger in your waistband, tugging it away from your body. “But you sure do leave them sopping wet, don’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Well, if they weren’t before, they are now.
Your jaw drops open an inch, and for a moment you don’t know what to say.
Another finger hooks into your waistband, and he swipes his fingertips across your lower stomach, not daring to go any further until you give him the go ahead. “Please, sugar,” he whispers, and his voice shakes as he tilts your head up, holding his lips just an inch from your own. 
“I’ll be quick. I won’t even tease, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your face, that delicious hint of tobacco making you flutter your eyes closed.
“Logan…” you try again, but he ducks his head into your neck and whimpers. Whimpers. 
“I’ll be good and quick, bub,” he says again. “Just let me taste you. I won’t ask for anything else, I swear.”
“Yeah right,” you say breathlessly, your composure slipping. “You always want more.”
“Can’t help it,” he breathes heavily, and his hand clenches your shorts in a fist. “M’gonna go insane if I can’t taste you, cupcake.”
You’ve never seen him this desperate, this much of a loser for your pussy, that you choke out a sigh and push his hand down your stomach. His eyes go wide and his mouth stutters as his fingers reach your mound, shoulders shuddering at the velvety smooth touch of your core. 
“Fine,” you say quietly, a smile growing on your face. “But just for a minute.”
“Minute’s all I need, sugar.” Logan doesn’t waste his time, molding his lips to yours with a deep groan that borders on the side of a growl, something that ignites a fire in your gut. 
In a flash, he’s practically torn your shorts from your body and he’s getting on his knees, eyes flitting up to yours as he leans into your core. The flush of cool air on your lower half is almost relieving. 
He pauses, closing his eyes right as he’s about to dive in. And he sucks in a breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal. It’s like a fucking ritual for him. Like a monk bent to pray, he worships the source of your sweetness.
You shake your head, carding your fingers through his hair. “You’re such a freak,” you breathe, but the humor leaves your voice as he darts his tongue out to flick your clit. 
And with your hands in his hair, he growls into your pussy and laps at it like a starving man, swirling circles around your clit and wasting no time before his fingers are teasing your entrance. 
“God,” you gasp, squeezing your thighs around his head. 
He lifts his head, and you wish you could take a picture of how fucking desperate he looks, with his beard already glistening with your wetness and his eyes wide as a puppy’s. “Not God,” he huffs, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Just me, bub.”
“Shut the fuck up and make me come,” you sigh, tilting your head back and letting out a soft giggle. “Your minute’s almost up.”
Of course, you don’t have any plans on cutting him off. Once he gets his tongue on your core, you won’t be satisfied until he’s filling you to the brim. 
He moans with every drop that slips out of you and lands on his tongue, which only makes your pussy weep more for him. “Come on, baby,” he says into you, his fingers slipping inside you and stretching you deliciously over his thick digits. “Come on daddy’s face.”
He has the gall to ask you to call him daddy? When he just spent the last ten minutes begging to get on his knees for you?
You almost laugh, but then his fingers curl inside you. He’s hitting that one spongy spot that has you arching your back, your eyes rolling back and your hand pressing down on his head, holding him to your core as you ride out your release. “Fuck, Logan,” you whine, rolling your hips into his mouth to make the ecstasy last longer.
He pulls away from you, and you can’t even lift your head before you hear the clink of his belt hitting the floor. His face comes into view, and then his tip is sliding against your slit, throwing you into a frenzy as your legs shake at the sensitivity. 
“I’m sorry, sugar,” he says, voice hoarse as he circles your clit with his angry, leaking tip. “I’m close already, I just wanna…”
“You wanna fill me up,” you finish breathlessly, head resting against his desk.
“Yes,” he whimpers, and you swear you could come again at the sound of it. “Please, cupcake.”
You nod, a string of yes please falling from your lips. And not a moment later, he’s shoving himself inside, and suddenly you realize how empty you’d felt all day before this moment, before his thick cock was making room for itself in your body. 
He doesn’t look like he’ll last long enough to give you another orgasm, but you don’t really care; he looks so fucking pretty like this that it’ll be enough to fuel an entire night of play when you’re on your own.
With a guttural groan and a few uneven thrusts, Logan bursts. The swing sound of metal claws unsheathing themselves is like a drug as he empties himself inside of you. “I’m sorry, cupcake,” he shudders, laying himself over you on the desk. “M’sorry I couldn’t—”
“It’s okay,” you wrap an arm around his shoulders, savoring the feeling of his dick still pulsing inside you. “I like it when you’re so…”
You trail off. Nothing can quite describe the essence of Logan when he’s begging to eat you out. But there’s something so undeniably filthy about someone like Logan—your rugged, perfect Professor Logan—shedding his grumpy exterior for a taste of you.
The two of you lay there for a few more moments before he straightens, pulling you to a sitting position. He slowly pulls out, catching his seed and pushing it gently back inside you as best he can. 
You hum at the sight, and finally stand, pulling your wrecked shorts back onto your hips. “How are you gonna explain that?” You point at the small puddle of your releases, mixed together.
His hair is still messy, his fingers still shining with your arousal, but he winks. Claws retracted, he swipes a finger through the mess and puts it to his lips, drinking down the result of your pleasure. 
“Frosting,” he grins, and the return of the cocksure professor you know so well has returned. He presses a kiss to your temple and whispers in your ear. “From the sweetest of cupcakes.”
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imaginedisish · 2 months
Text
Heart to Heart (Logan Howlett x F!Reader)
A/N: Okay...here's that car sex request. This one is like pure smut with some exposition. Like...plot...what plot? Listened to "Heart to Heart" by Mac DeMarco while writing this one. Kinda fits. Not quite sure how I'm churning these out so quickly...so I hope this doesn't suck. And! Most importantly: I hope this lives up to the requester's expectations. Enjoy guys!
Summary: Logan doesn't seem like himself on the car ride up to Lake George to meet the other X-Men for the weekend, and you're not going to leave him alone until you find out why (it's car sex, the whole fic is basically just rough car sex).
Warnings: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, Unprotected PIV (WRAP IT UP!), Oral (f!receiving), fingering, rough sex, fem!reader, AFAB!reader (no other major physical descriptions that I can think of), cursing, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, feelings, pre-relationship (I am a sucker for writing first times), probably some grammatical errors, think that's everything.
Word Count: 3124 this was supposed to be a blurb im not joking
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Logan’s hands firmly grip the steering wheel, white-knuckling, fingers wound around the curved leather. Your eyes flicker between his face and his hands.  
He had been like this since the drive to Lake George started. You and Logan were meeting the rest of the X-Men up there—Charles arranged some sort of weekend getaway. You and Logan would be the last ones to arrive, having just gotten off from a mission. 
But something was off about him. He was silent, eyes dead set on the road. The sun had long set, but you still had two hours of the drive to go. You look out the window to a world asleep, lights out, families in beds. You look back at Logan; his face is completely unchanged. 
“Logan?” You mumble, shifting in your seat to face him. Your already-short shorts hike up your thighs, revealing more of the skin underneath. You don’t think twice about placing your hand on his bare shoulder, brushing his exposed skin with your thumb. “You okay?” You ask, but he ignores you. You’re not letting this go. He’s been like this for far too long, and you’re sick of not knowing why. “Are you mad at me?”
“What?” Logan finally lets go of the wheel a bit, his eyes flickering briefly to you and then back to the road. “No, of course not.”
“Then what’s the matter?” If he was going to be stubborn, you were going to be stubborn, too. “You can tell me, Lo.”
He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel again. Your hand trails down to his bicep, lingering for longer than you should before stroking back up to his shoulder. You draw circles into his skin, hoping to relax him, but it only seems to work him up. His throat bobs, and you catch him peeking at you out of the corner of his eye. 
You’re not sure where the confidence comes from, but before you can even think of stopping yourself, your fingers gently glide up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging into his hair lightly. Logan groans softly, the sound sparking a fire in your belly. You push it down, reminding yourself that this is just an innocent moment between friends—nothing more. 
“You gonna tell me what the matter is now?” You chide, smirking, thinking you have him exactly where you want him. You lean over a bit more, the air conditioning blasting against your bare legs. Your fingers are still buried in his hair. 
You see the moment when his expression shifts, when his head finally turns towards yours. His nostrils flare. You search his eyes frantically, your hand dropping back to your lap. “Logan I—” but you’re cut off by the feeling of his palm—of his long fingers—on your inner thigh. He keeps one hand firmly on the steering wheel as he swerves into the shoulder of the highway and off into the grass. 
He puts the car in park, keeping his eyes straight ahead, tightening his grip on your thigh and working his jaw as he thinks of what to say. You can feel the heat growing between your legs, a feeling you’ve long denied yourself while alone with Logan. Silence fills the air, the tension of it absolutely suffocating.  
And then Logan cuts through the quiet like a knife. “You have any idea how you make me feel?” He’s turned his body completely towards you now, as if he’s ready to pounce.  
You swallow harshly. “So, you are angry at me. Logan, I have no clue what I did, but I—”
“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart,” he mutters, lifting himself up slightly to maneuver closer to you. He’s practically climbing over the center console as his lips find the shell of your ear. “It’s just when I can smell how much you want me, and you start touching me like that…” He trails off, kissing your ear lightly. “Do you know what you fucking do to me?”
“Logan—”
He’s not finished. He’s cutting you off again. “I can’t concentrate when you’re around.” His hand slips further in between your thighs, and you shudder under his touch. “Can’t do anything except think about fucking you.” He’s slipping his hand up your shorts, feeling your folds through your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked already, pretty girl.”
You moan as he teases you, playing with you, taking his time. “W-want you,” you stutter, grinding into his hand, searching for more friction. 
He’s got that familiar, cocky smile spread across his face. “I know you do, beautiful.” Even that lilt in his voice is cocksure. He’s teasingly pulling your panties to the side. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your folds, but he’s refusing to give you the relief you need. He’s the one driving you insane now. “You gonna let me fuck you in the backseat of this car?” 
“F-fuck,” you stutter as his fingers finally brush against your bare cunt. You throw your head back as he strokes languidly, lazily. Your words are caught in your throat. You can’t enjoy his touch for long as he pulls away from you. “W-wait,” you whine, sitting up and grabbing his hand. 
He smirks, that teasing grin still spread across his face. “Didn’t answer my question, pretty girl,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your knuckles. He repeats himself: “You gonna let me fuck you in the backseat of this car?” You nod as he brings himself back to hover over you. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Yes,” you choke out. “Please. Need you so fucking bad.”
He doesn’t let a second go by before he’s wrapping his arms around you and shoving you into the backseat. You fall into the leather and watch as Logan opens the car door and briefly disappears into the darkness before opening the door next to you. He climbs inside, slamming the door behind him. 
He crawls over you, and you use your hips and forearms and back all the way into the door on the opposite side. 
He grabs your hips, keeping you in place, lowering down over you. “’Can hear that little heart beating all the fucking time,” he whispers, his lips inches from yours. His forearm rests by your head, while his free hand slips underneath your shirt and under your bra. His fingers graze over the swell of your tits as he settles his palm above your heart. “Need you, pretty girl.” His hand trails over to a nipple, pinching softly.
Logan swallows your moans with a desperate, starving kiss. His stubble is rough against your cheeks. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, asking for permission to come inside. You open up immediately for him, meeting his tongue with your own, savoring the taste of him. 
You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, keeping his lips close to yours. You dig your nails into his scalp, raking through his hair. He groans into your mouth before briefly coming up for air. His chest heaves against yours. He’s a panting mess. You’ve never seen him this worked up. 
There’s something different in his eyes now. You can see the lust, the desire, the longing. But there’s something else there. Fear? Desperation? Hunger? He’s yanking your shirt and bra up and over your head before giving you the chance to think about it. He’s taking you in, his hot, solid, fervent hands exploring your body. He’s palming your breasts, pinching your nipples and messaging the pain away. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tight against you. 
He instinctively recognizes what you’re doing. “’M’not going anywhere, I’ve got you.” He presses a chaste kiss just under your jawline. His nails trail down the side of your stomach, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. 
You can feel his erection against your core, rutting needily into you. You push your hips up to meet his, grinding against him, impatiently searching for more friction.
His hands finally land on the hem of your shorts, his fingers working at your button, and then your zipper. He hooks his fingers into your shorts and your panties, and yanks them down your legs, casting them to the floor. You think he’s going to come back up, but he crawls in between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. 
You can feel his hot breath fan over your aching cunt. His mouth is just centimeters away from where you need him most. 
“Wanna taste you,” he mumbles, his face inching closer to your core. 
You moan as he licks a stripe through your folds, and then another. “L-Logan.” Your hips come up and off the seat. One of his arms latches across your hips, holding you down. 
“Stay there,” he murmurs in between laps. “Tastes so fucking good.” You can’t stay still, squirming under his touch, he presses down harder, forcing you to stay in place. You can feel him smirk against your pussy as his mouth latches on to your clit, sucking the bud in roughly. 
You’re already close as his fingers start to swipe through your folds. “So fucking wet for me.” His words vibrate against your swollen clit. Two fingers prod at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. You’re squirming again, your pussy stretching out to fit around his long fingers. He chuckles against you, the feeling pushing you closer to the edge. 
“C-close,” is all you can stutter. 
Logan doesn’t slow down. “’M’not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he husks between desperate laps. His fingers pump in and out of you, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around him. “Doing so good for me, taking what I’m giving you.”
His words are making it harder to hang on. “C-can’t…” You trail off, your chest heaving. His face is buried deep inside your cunt, each flick, each suck, each thrust more feral and starving than the last. 
“You gonna come on my tongue, sweetheart?” He teases, knowing full well now what his words are doing to you. You clamp down on his fingers, his name a chant hanging in the air. “Let go for me, pretty girl. Wanna know what it tastes like.” 
You’re a stuttering mess, his words piercing that fire in your stomach, the heat flowing freely as he pulls your orgasm from you. The release feels so good, so right. Logan works you through it, his laps slowing down, becoming languid, like he’s savoring the taste of you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. He pumps his fingers in and out a few more times before carefully pulling out of you. 
He sits up on his knees, sweat glistening on his chest, his hair a tussled mess. He holds out his fingers—covered with your come—and shoves them in his mouth, sucking hard. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. He lazily pulls them out, swallowing, his throat bobbing. “So fucking sweet,” he soothes. “Can’t get enough of you.”
And then he’s hurriedly ripping his beater off, undoing his belt, shoving his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock springing up to his stomach. You knew he’d be big, but fuck. 
“You sure you want this?” He whispers, his lips back at the shell of your ear. You bring your hips up to meet his and mumble a yes. 
He lines himself up with your entrance, nudging against you. You can tell he’s holding back, doing his all to take his time, to let this moment last. But you want him. You need him. Now. You arch your back, your chest rising to meet his, your pebbled nipples brushing against his bare skin. The contact feels so good, so warm. “Fuck me, Logan,” you beg. 
He curses under his breath, and suddenly he’s thrusting into you, sinking all the way in, bottoming out. He stays there, unmoving, letting you adjust to the length and girth of him. He’s so big, stretching you out so good. He’s deep already, pushing against your walls, hitting that spot where you need him most. 
“F-fuck.” His composure is melting. “Knew you’d feel perfect. So fucking beautiful like this, always so beautiful.” He pulls out and pushes all the way back in. You cry out his name, and he muffles it as his mouth comes crashing down onto yours. 
He lowers down onto his forearm, closing the gap between the two of you. His other hand grazes over your nipples, trailing down your stomach, slipping in between the place where your bodies connect. His fingertips find your clit, ghosting around the bud lightly, toying with you before drawing long, languid circles around it. 
His thrusts start out slow as he rolls his hips against yours, but he quickly builds up speed. He bottoms out with each pump, plunging deeply, working you open for him. 
“Could stay inside you forever,” he gasps between kisses, sweat coating his brow. “You still have no fucking clue what you do to me,” he whispers, his hips snapping into you. He’s fucking you into the leather, pounding harder, knocking the wind out of your chest. He flicks your clit again and again. He’s losing control in the best way. “Watching you all the time, not being able to touch you, to be with you.” His vulnerability contrasts deliciously with how rough he’s fucking into you. “Think about you all the time.” 
He swallows your whines with another starving kiss. “Always thinking about you, too,” you whimper. 
He smiles against your lips. “Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart. Want you to come on my cock.” It’s a command, the bass of his voice rumbling through his chest. You hum in affirmation, your eyes fluttering closed as pleasure courses through your body. “Want you to look at me when you come.” There’s that demand in his voice again, and so you force your eyes open. “Good girl,” he husks. “So fucking good.”
You’re crumbling underneath him, fighting to keep your eyes open as he pounds roughly into you, his fingers pinching your clit, then circling rapidly. You’re coming undone in his arms, digging your nails into his biceps as you let yourself go. He keeps rutting into you, his pace faltering as he nears his own orgasm. 
“Wanna come inside you,” his lips press against your forehead as he whispers the words. “Don’t wanna leave this pussy yet.”
You shiver underneath him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “P-please,” you mumble.  “Fuck,” he trembles, painting your walls, filling you up. “So perfect,” he whispers, his head coming down to rest on your shoulder, pumping slower as he finishes. “So beautiful.” He kisses your shoulder as he stills, staying inside you for a moment. 
He carefully slides out of you, the sudden emptiness a shock to your system. You want him back, buried deep inside where he belongs. You involuntarily whine at the loss of him. He lifts himself up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Later. We’ll do more later. ‘M’nowhere near done with you yet.” 
Logan separates from you, the hot, stuffy air of the car suddenly turning cold without him on top of you. He searches the floor of the backseat for your clothes. He worries about you first, helping you get back into your bra, panties, shorts, and top. You sit cross-legged once you’re done, watching him as he dresses himself. 
He smirks, sensing your eyes on him. “Still like what you see?” 
You can feel heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly embarrassed despite everything that just happened. “Always liked you.”
“Think what we just did warrants a little more than ‘like’ darlin’.” He’s right. It does. 
Once he’s dressed, he grabs your hand, opens the car door, and guides you out of the backseat and towards the other side of the car. He opens the passenger door for you, and you slip inside. He’s opening the driver’s side door and getting in a few seconds later, turning the key into the ignition, maneuvering the car out of the grass, and back onto the empty highway. 
He’s got his left hand on the steering wheel as his right comes down to your inner thigh, gripping tightly and pulling it closer to him. 
The rest of the drive is quiet, calm, Logan’s thumb occasionally brushing against your bare skin, reminding you of what he promised: later. 
You finally pull up to the cabin, surprised to see that some of the lights are still on. Logan gives your thigh one more squeeze before popping the trunk and exiting the car. You step out, and Logan already has your duffle bags in his hands. You walk shoulder to shoulder up to the porch of the cabin, your hand coming up to twist the doorknob and stepping inside. 
Storm, Charles, and Scott are in the living room, sitting around the fire, their heads snapping toward you and Logan. 
“What took you two so long to get here?” Storm asks, her brows raising incredulously. 
“Traffic.” Logan spits, his voice firm and unwavering. You hope the room can’t read the embarrassment on your face. 
“Yeah, sure, traffic, at one in the morning on a Thursday,” Scott teases. To your left, you can see your and Logan’s reflections in a nearby mirror. You’re disheveled and messy, but not terrible. And then, it suddenly dawns on you that Logan’s tank is inside out; you can’t help but grin at the sight. 
Charles smiles softly—knowingly. “You two can share one of the rooms upstairs, down the hall, last door on the left.” 
You watch as Logan catches his reflection in the mirror, his gaze quickly focusing on you instead, cocking his head up towards the stairs. 
His steps are hurried, and you try to catch up to him. He beats you to the top and leans in close to you as you finish the climb, his lips brushing the side of your head. “You’re in some massive fucking trouble, sweetheart,” he whispers, now holding the bags in one hand so that the other can snake around your waist. He shoves you down the hall with him. 
“What did I do?” You giggle as his fingers dig into your side. 
“You let me put my shirt on inside out.”
You smirk. “And what are you gonna do about it, bub?” You know he won’t like that last bit, but you want to see what he’ll do about it. 
“Remember when I told you I wasn’t done with you yet?” Your breath catches in your throat at his words. “Well, it’s later, darlin’.”
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iheartcurlyfries · 5 months
Text
cause baby, you get me so...
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dom!mascellie x sub!femreader
|| authors note: this is the first story I've ever actually felt proud enough to post || also sorry if it's iffy! I'm still new to writing but I've been taking awhile observing my favorite fic writers and have learned a few things so.. enjoy!! :) || (I made this because of shy smith's new song.) ||
|| CW: smut with a lot of plot, mdni, wlw, friends with benefits, ellie loves tits, LITTLE use of 'y/n', fingering, use of swear words, praising, ellie is soft, barely experienced reader, ellie shows reader true pleasure, and light masturbation. ||
you and ellie had been friends since almost forever, you've always been inseparable. and when you both grew older your innocent mind turned into something you never expected, you saw ellie in a different light and seemingly grew a liking to her. she's always protected you from everything and always treated you better than any other girl in jackson (which made you admire her even more), it was almost like she had a sweet spot for you, which you never understood why she did.
ellie was very proudly out, she loved having people know she was gay, she had multiple girlfriends but everything seemed to end up in the same way, ellie gets bored and she breaks up with them. and then there was you, a girl who was scared to come out, you had always pretended to like guys and even dated a few, but no one ever caught your eye as much as your bestfriend did. something about her made you tingle inside, you'd get the butterflies in your stomach even by just thinking about her, but you knew you'd never be able to tell her.
after every stressful day, you'd lay down in your bed, your gaze would shift from the wall to the window, trying to poke at every detail to entertain you. you'd shift and turn, trying to get comfortable, groaning when you couldn't find something to distract yourself with. you'd pick up your phone, scrolling through your messages, trying to find someone to talk to for entertainment.
and that's when it hit you, you saw ellie in your messages, the thought of her instantly creeping into your mind. a small smile formed with a curve on your lips, you'd sigh as you thought about her, putting your phone down as you stared at the ceiling. her being in your thoughts made your thighs rub together, you gently bit down on your bottom lip, picking at it with your teeth.
you couldn't lie to yourself, you always fantasized about ellie, thinking about all the things you'd let her do for to you. you always imagined her in between your legs, you'd yank at her hair as whimpers would escape your lips in a muffled tone. she'd always take it slow with you, making sure you'd adjust to her, she'd never wanna hurt you. she'd slide a finger into you, gently pumping it in and out of you as she swirled her tongue around your bud, making sure to be as gentle as possible. you'd whine and run your fingers through her hair, the sight of her fucking you always made you just wanna cum
you always gave in to your thoughts, everytime they got to intense, you'd gently swirl two fingers over your clit, biting down on your lip to hold back a hoarse whine, your thighs would press together when you got close, you were so very sensitive, a few flicks to your bud and you were done. you'd be a whimpering mess, making sure her name was the only word in your vocabulary in those moments. and when you were done you'd lie there, thinking as if she was the one pleasuring you. but you'd always think to yourself how much more you'd feel better if it was her and not you.
whenever you and ellie would hangout she'd throw flirty comments at you, being oblivious you never knew what she meant by the flirts, always thinking she was just being friendly. you never knew how she felt about you, you could've never imagined the fantasies she'd have, she always saw you as a pretty and delicate thing, like a porcelain doll. she always imagined how good it would feel to be the one to show you a real experience, something that your hand couldn't give you, something that only hers could.
you sighed, leaning back on ellie's couch as you watched her play a game, call of duty. you stared at the screen, smiling when she won and got all excited, you thought she was cute when the game fed her ego, and you rooted for her, giving out gentle and sweet praise to her. 'you're doing great- els.' you cooed as she got another kill. your gaze turned to her hands, she gripped the controller tightly as her fingers pressed the buttons at a quicker pace. you admired how patient she was with this game, how quick she would adjust after getting a kill, it was something you always admired about her.
'thank you ma' she'd say, smiling at you. "ma" was always a nickname she used for you, you liked it of course, it was special, something only she called you.
you'd giggle when she would call you that, a peachy tint covering your cheeks as you looked back up at the screen. "I don't understand how you're so good at this game." you'd tease, you were never really a big fan of video games, it was never something you were good at. but you enjoyed watching her play, you didn't know if it was just her being the one playing or if you actually enjoyed the game, but nonetheless you always found yourself loving watching her play.
'I'll teach you how to play one day, you'll be a natural I bet." she muttered, her eyes never leaving the screen. you looked over at you again, admiring her concentration on the game. "you got this 'els, you got this." you'd praise, the tone of your voice dripping with sweetness.
after your praise she got her last kill, winning the game before celebrating, a big 'ol grin always on her face when she'd win. she leaned back, man-spreading as she put the controller down on the couch, taking a deep breath as she looked over at you.
'do you wanna try, mama?' she asked, handing you the controller with a serious face, a smirk slightly creeping onto it.
"ellie no-" you obliged, 'I'd be humbled instantly.' I said with a nice little chuckle, pushing the controller back to ellie.
'no c'mon ma, I'll show you..' she said, her tone gentle. 'c'mere.' she whispered with a smile, patting her lap. you blushed, and you felt your eyes lightly widened, "okay.." you said with a soft smile, you sat up, crawling over to ellie. she grabbed your hips and sat you onto her lap, lightly rubbing her hands up your sides.
she handed you the controller, guiding you through the loading screen. she leaned over and whispered into your ear- 'this is the shooter..' she began explaining the "simple" instructions, you could barely focus, just the sound of her whispering in your ear and the feeling of her hands on your sides were enough to get you going. 'okay...' you mumbled, your voice lightly cracking. as you loaded in she moved her hands to yours, guiding yours on the controller, helping you get a few kills as she whispered a few praises in your ear. 'you're doing so well mama, look at you go..' she'd say, you'd bite your lip, rubbing your thighs gently together. you felt it, the same feeling, the feeling of being soaked.
after she helped you win the round she smiled, praising you more as she leaned back, her hands creeping back to your hips, rubbing them with her thumb. 'see? you're a natural.' she grinned, running her fingers over your hips, she pulled you back lightly. 'I love how easy you are to teach mama.' she whispered, her tone soft as she tried to get you to turn to face her. you smiled and turned around, facing her as you sat on her lap. 'I still hated it, it was stressing me out..' you giggled, putting a piece of hair behind your ear.
'that's okay, you don't have to play again.' ellie said, her hands now running down your thighs. 'but you did so good ma..'
god her voice.. you thought, everything she was doing made you feel amazing, the way she praised you and the way she stared at you. but oh the way she touched your thighs made you feel the best, it almost felt like she was just teasing you so she could get a reaction. but you didn't care, you got pleasure out of her touch.
you smiled at her, not saying anything as you just admired her, everything from her freckles to the details of her scars on her face. she looked up at you, her gaze softened slightly as she stared at you. 'do you know how beautiful you are, y/n?' ellie said as she lifted a piece of your hair out of your face, moving it gently as you let out a sigh. 'that's sweet, els..' you smiled, licking your lips slowly as you took a deep breath in.
'are you just gonna stare at me forever?' ellie muttered with a teasing tone, it snapped you out of your day dreaming. she giggled before putting a hand on your chin, gently pulling you in. you gasped slightly as she captured your lips in a kiss, she pulled her hand away from your chin, both hands on your hips as her gripped tightened.
you whimpered softly against her lips as her grip tightened on your hips, you put your hands on the side of her face, deepening the kiss more as the butterflies grew in your stomach.
as she kissed you she pulled her hands away from your hips, she guided them to your button up, gently unbutton-ing the buttons slowly, making sure to take her time. she pulled back for a second to slip the shirt off of your shoulders, you helped her, all with a smile on your face. you couldn't believe what was happening.
she smiled back at you, she guided a hand up to your chin again, lifting your jaw up before leaning in to kiss down your neck. she made her way to your collarbone, leaving behind pinky love marks. you let out a delicate moan as she kissed your collarbone, sucking another hickey onto it. 'wear these with pride, ma, they add to your beauty.' she whispered, her tone had a hint of playfulness as she pulled back.
'may i?' she asked, grabbing the hem of your skirt as she waited for your confirmation. 'yes, you're aloud anything..' you reassured her, you smiled as you adjusted yourself on her lap, helping her slide your skirt down your thighs.
as she got the skirt off of you she put it over on the other side of the couch where your shirt was. she turned back to you and leaned in for another kiss, taking everything slow with you. after a good minute she unlatched her lips again, she looked up at you as she made her way to the back of your bra, gently and slowly un-clipping it and guiding it off your chest. she smiled as she saw your perky breasts. 'mm so beautiful mama..' she whispered, gently putting her hands on them, fondling them. she took one finger and gently pinched at your nipple, making you let out a whimper in response. 'so responsive..' she praised, running her thumb over your nipple.
you let a few more whimpers slip as she played with your boobs, her fingers glided over your nipples before she leaned in and took one in her mouth, lightly sucking. 'mm that feels s'good els..' you'd whine, sliding a hand into her hair and gently playing with it.
with a pop she pulled away from your breast, smiling up at you as she kissed up your chest to your neck again, putting a hand on the other side of your neck. you lifted your head up, giving ellie more room as she claimed your neck, as she got closer to your ear she leaned in and whispered. 'mama, m'gonna fuck you..' her tone was smooth and it made your ears tingle, your breath hitched slightly while letting out a soft sigh. she giggled before kissing your neck again, as she was kissing up and down your neck, only leaving more hickeys she slid a hand down your thigh. you let out a gasp as you felt a hand rub at your clit, she rubbed in a harsh way as the wet spot on your panties only grew.
you let out a needy whine, gently spreading your legs more. you slid your hand back into ellie's hair once more, giving it a light tug. 'mmpph..' you moaned, slowly bucking your hips into ellie's hand. you honestly couldn't believe it, one of your fantasies actually coming true, the way she touched you so skillfully through your panties was just oh so fucking good, the way it was just as you imagined, gentle yet quick.
your thighs lightly shook as your head tilted back. she pulled away from your neck, leaning back on the couch with a lustful expression. 'gotta give you something real, princess.' she uttered as she pulled her hand back, guiding them to the hem of your underwear before slowing pulling it down your legs. you lifted yourself up slightly, helping her take them off.
she threw them to where your other clothes were with a grin, looking up at you. 'you're so beautiful..' she cooed, she leaned back again and ran a hand down your thigh. she took her ring and middle finger and gently slid them up and down your delicate folds. her touch making you squirm. she pulled her fingers back and put them in her mouth, tasting your slick, she moaned before pulling her fingers out, making sure they were really wet and ready for your cunt.
she pulled you by your hips, guiding you closer before slowly rubbing your nub with her thumb, 'you ready?' she whispered, looking up at you.
"as ready as I'll ever be..' you giggled, she smiled softly before slowly spreading your folds with her other hands, then slowly sliding the tip of her fingers into your entrance in a teasing way. you whimpered softly before she slid her full fingers into your tight sopping hole. this simple action made you moan, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip, your gummy walls lightly clenched around her fingers. she admired how your cunt swallowed them instantly, after a second she slowly pumped her fingers in and out at a weak pace, but the way they hit your sweet spot every thrust made it feel better than she thought it would.
you were messy as hell, she pumped her fingers into you, slightly increasing her pace as she whispered sweet praises into your ear. telling you how much of a good girl you were being and how well u were taking her. It made you melt, not only her voice but her touch too, you felt a pressure build up in your stomach, something you never truly felt before, and it made you glad ellie was the first person helping you feel that way.
'c'mon baby, you got this..' she'd whisper as she picked up her pace, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a more quickened rate, your walls gently pulsed at the speed changed but you adjusted quickly, gently moaning into ellie's ear as you rested your head onto her shoulder. 'm'gonna cum els, i can feel it..' you got a sentence choked out, it wasn't a cohesive one but it was good enough for these circumstances. she smiled at your words, only picking up her pace more as she rubbed her other hand up your thigh.
you couldn't help it, you lifted your head up and tilted it back with a moan, the way she was fingering you made you feel so fucking amazing. 'mmghh-- ellie..' you whined, you felt it coming, the pressure getting too good.. your eyes rolled back as your walls started to pulse, you felt it, coming down from your high as you let yourself come undone onto ellie's fingers. ellie was delighted, whispering more praise into your ear as she slowed down her pumping, after a few seconds she gently pulled her fingers out of you, licking them clean before she rubbed her hands up your thighs again, you laid your head back on her shoulder, panting heavily.
'good girl, ma, I knew you could do it..'
A/N: ahhh this is so bad but I love it so much!! writing makes me so happy and I hope this fanfiction made you happy too <3
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aphrogeneias · 1 year
Text
more than seven minutes — one-shot
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk
author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.
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"Where are you taking me?"
"Don't you trust us?"
From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."
It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.
They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it. 
You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.
Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.
You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"
"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"
You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.
Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.
He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"
Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."
When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"
"I'm not acting weird…"
"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."
You weren't avoiding Steve.
At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.
After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.
The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.
Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.
There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space. 
"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."
Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"
"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."
With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.
"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."
"A what?"
"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"
"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.
"What was your dream like?"
He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.
It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.
"Steve…"
"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."
Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I  was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"
"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking." 
You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."
Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"Yeah." You breathed out.
One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.
"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"
It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"
"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."
Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.
"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"
Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.
"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?" 
"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"
"Shut up."
Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.
"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."
His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.
"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.
"Consider it payback, baby."
They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"
"Yeah. Please."
Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.
Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.
A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements. 
"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."
Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.
"Louder. Let me hear you."
"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."
At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.
He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.
"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.
After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.
Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.
Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.
Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.
Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.
"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"
"Go away, Buckley! Jesus." 
Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"
"Yeah. Your point being…"
"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."
Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."
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4K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 7 months
Note
Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
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The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?” 
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 
Or a pedestrian. 
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 
“We're here.” 
“Great. Let me walk you in.” 
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 
“Okay.” 
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 
“About what, Y/N?” 
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.” 
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 
“You're being an ass.” 
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 
“No clothes, Y/N.” 
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.” 
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.” 
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 
“I also said no clothes.” 
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 
“Fuck, Spencer.” 
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?” 
“In the bath.” 
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 
2K notes · View notes
luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months
Text
The Husband Effect
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Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...
Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff
A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!
__________
“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”
“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”
“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.
“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”
“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.
“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.
“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”
“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”
“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.
“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”
“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”
“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”
“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”
“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.
“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.
“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”
“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.
“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”
“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”
“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”
“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.
“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 
“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.
“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.
“Please hurry Sam.”
One Week Later
“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”
“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”
“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.
“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”
“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”
“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”
“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 
“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”
“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.
“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.
“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”
“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”
“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 
“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”
“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”
“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”
“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”
“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.
“I promise, Y/N.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.
“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.
“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”
“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 
“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.
“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.
“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”
“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”
“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”
“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”
“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”
“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“
“I do feel loved,” said Dean.
“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.
“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”
“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.
“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”
“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.
“Cool with it?” you asked.
“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”
“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.
“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.
“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”
One Year Later
“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 
“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”
“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”
“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.
“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.
“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”
“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”
“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”
“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.
“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.
“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”
“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.
“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.
“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”
“You got something special planned?” you asked.
“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”
“You read my mind.”
2K notes · View notes
osarina · 4 months
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ᡣ𐭩 YOU'VE BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME
FEATURING: pm!dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai is not as slick as he thinks he is, and you let him get away with way too much. OR, dazai realizes the only place he feels comfortable enough to sleep is at your side, but god forbid he vocalizes that.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'm on another pm!reader & dazai kick LOL, prepare for an influx of fics about them. i'm starting with this one because it's softer, the classic sharing a bed fic & u guys deserve some lightness after uu6 (warnings: fem!reader, nothing else really, this is light-hearted as promised)
Dazai doesn’t think you notice when he sneaks into your room at night.
To be fair, you don’t think you noticed the first few times. He’s very careful to make sure you’re still sleeping when he lets the door crack open so he can slip in. He shifts the blinds around just enough so that when he lays down and the sun starts to rise, it’ll hit him right in the eye, waking him up before you, so he can slip out unnoticed.
But he messed up two weeks ago. Or, well, it wasn’t really his fault. The hinges of your door creaked just a bit too loudly when he pushed it open, stirring you from your sleep, but he was evidently too tired to even notice. Your first reaction was obviously to tell him to get the fuck out, irate that he’d woken you up, but you found yourself hesitating as he began his swift and efficient process of setting up your room so he can lay there with you to get some rest and disappear before you wake up. 
He slept above the covers on the edge of the bed, careful to keep space between the two of you—whether it was because he didn’t want to risk waking you up, or if he just didn’t want to touch you, you didn’t know, but you think it’s the former from the way you’ve noticed his body unconsciously trying to seek you out at night, only for him to startle awake and immediately move away.
You told yourself that you would address it the next morning—ask him what the fuck he was thinking sneaking into your bedroom—but you faltered when you saw how refreshed he was in the morning, bouncing around your apartment, the perpetual bags beneath his eyes mostly faded. You put together then how long he’s been doing this: three weeks, at least. You’d been wondering why he was suddenly so energetic some days, but it was easy to figure out that those days are the ones that he slips into your room to sleep.
You’d known for a while that Dazai doesn’t sleep well. Spends most nights wandering around your apartment looking for things to do if he doesn’t have missions; he only ever does sleep when he’s so drunk that he ends up passing out on your kitchen floor or he’s so tired that he physically can’t keep his eyes open any longer. You’d always wondered if it was because he can’t sleep or if it was because he doesn’t want to sleep, plagued with nightmares, memories whenever he closes his eyes.
So you let it continue—it doesn’t really bother you, he’s always careful to not disturb you and you figure that it’s better he gets at least some decent sleep so he doesn’t get himself killed on a mission because he’s depriving himself of it.
It’s not until a few weeks later that he realizes that you know. You’re half asleep when he tries to sneak into your room, barely conscious; you don’t remember to pretend to be asleep.
The door creaks open and shuts and you instinctively roll over, shifting up onto your elbows and squinting, eyes focusing on Dazai’s figure shrouded by the darkness, halfway across your room to your window. He freezes as soon as he realizes you’re awake. 
“Dazai?” you ask quietly, voice a bit rough with sleep, mind moving a bit slow as you try to piece together what’s going on..
“I-” he starts to say—for a second, he’s caught off guard, fumbling for some sort of excuse. But Dazai is Dazai, so he recovers quickly. “Oh good, you’re awake. You see, I was trying to-”
“Shut up,” you murmur, laying back down and pulling the covers back, realizing what he’s here for. “Lay down.” 
Dazai doesn’t budge. “What?” he breathes out, caught off-guard and clearly exhausted. You can see the dark bags beneath his eyes—he’s been on a mission for four or five days now, dealing with Mishima out in Tokyo. You figure that he hasn’t gotten any sleep since he left. “What are you talking about?” 
His voice takes a cooler tone after the initial ‘what’, a defense mechanism, and you know Dazai is about to bolt to try to avoid this conversation, but it’s been weeks and you think it's about time. You crack an eye open to scowl at him, noticing the closed off expression on his face and the anxiety thinly veiled behind his dark eye. Before he can make a run for it, you push yourself up. You’re quick and Dazai is exhausted, so it’s easy for you to scramble forward and grab his wrist, wrangling him onto the bed with you.
Dazai kicks and flails, you scowl at him when he messes up your duvet and he bares his teeth at you like a wild animal. You tumble on the mattress with him for a few seconds, he bucks you off of him and nearly onto the ground, you spit a few curses at him—wide awake now—and grab his wrists, pinning them above his head and pressing your knee into his lower back. If Dazai wasn’t half asleep, he’d probably have been able to come out on top but you can feel how tired he is with how sluggish his limbs move and how heavy they are whenever one of them lay on you, as if he can barely hold himself up. 
“What’s your issue?” you demand, biting back a yawn as you glare down at him.
Dazai twists his head to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye with an indignant expression. “My issue?” he spits out. “You just manhandled me onto your bed. Let go of me.”
“You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a month, Dazai.”
Dazai stills and you watch as his cheeks instantly flame up. His eye is wide as he stares at you from the corner of it. You’d almost think he’s cute if he wasn’t Dazai.
“I have not.”
He lies. He lies. He lies as if you haven’t literally caught him in the act. You stare at him aghast, you thought maybe he’d try to wiggle his way out of it with a ‘no, you’ve misunderstood,’ not a straight up lie. 
“You liar,” you accuse, voice pitched in disbelief. “You just lied right to my face.”
“No, I didn’t.” 
Dazai lies again; his face is even more red now, and you think that’s to show just how exhausted he is because Dazai usually wears countless masks to hide himself from everyone. You think you strip him of one, and there are two more there protecting him—like a goddamn hydra, cut off one head and two more grow back. 
But it seems like catching him in the act tonight, while he’s already tired and half-dead on his feet, was the equivalent of burning the heads of the hydra. His masks are gone and he’s left embarrassed and fumbling. You almost want to laugh, but you’re so incensed by the sheer audacity he has to blatantly lie to your face that you can’t even bring yourself to. 
“You just did it again.”
“I did not.”
“Dazai,” you say exasperated, shifting a bit and he lets out an irritated grunt, tossing you an outraged look as you accidently dig your knee even more into his back. “Stop fucking around. You’ve been coming into my room at night every three days for at least a month.”
Dazai looks mortified.
“You’ve known for a month,” he demands. He wiggles like a worm trying to free himself from your grasp but you double down, pressing your weight down on his back. “You’ve known for a month, and you never said anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I’ve known for two and a half weeks,” you correct, “but I figured it was a month or more based on when I started noticing your…mood improvements.”
A gentle way of putting that he doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone that looks in his direction at any given moment, but Dazai obviously understands what you’re getting at and looks even more humiliated.
You almost feel bad.
Almost.
“It’s not-” Dazai starts to say. He stutters. He stutters. A part of you wishes that you could record this, knowing you’ll never get the chance to see Dazai so caught off guard like this probably ever again. “I don’t-”
“I don’t care, Dazai,” you sigh tiredly. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. Just stop fucking being a creep about it, Christ.”
“No,” Dazai says, voice raised in pitch and petulant as he turns his face to press it down into your pillow. His words are muffled as he continues, “No. No. It’s ruined now. You’ve ruined it.”
Your eyes slide shut, you sigh. You’re suddenly tired again, you decidedly don’t want to deal with Dazai Osamu’s fickle and capricious nature. Because of that, you let go of him. You shake your head as you move off of him, sitting back down in bed and giving him a chance to flee, like he wanted to begin with.
Dazai does not budge.
At all. 
You stare at him in disbelief. 
Did he fall asleep?
You poke the side of his head and Dazai doesn’t let out a noise of complaint or shift even a centimeter, his shoulders rise and fall slowly and you turn your gaze up to the ceiling, praying for patience.
“You can’t sleep like that,” you say more to yourself than him. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself, you loser.”
You try to push him onto his side, but he startles awake as if he’d only just barely started dozing off. You watch as he jolts, sluggish limbs trying to push himself up, blinking blearily. You think he looks even more mortified when he realizes that as soon as he rested his head down, he immediately started drifting off.
“Dazai, you’re exhausted. Sleep,” you say, amusement dwindling as your brows furrow in concern. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so off-kilter before.
Has he really not slept since he left?
“No,” Dazai says, and even though the exhaustion is clear in his voice, he’s stubborn and trying to push himself up. “I can’t sleep because you had to go ahead and ruin it.”
“I didn’t ruin anything, Dazai,” you say, becoming increasingly more irritated as you lose out on more sleep. You have a meeting with Mori in the morning and you don’t want to head into it half-asleep. “You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a-”
“Stop saying that,” Dazai complains, covering his face with his hands as he sits at the edge of your bed, back turned to you. “It’s not-you’re just selfish.”
You gape. “Excuse me?” you say, even more appalled at this outlandish insult than you were over him lying to your face.
“You’re selfish. You keep the soft blankets and the nice mattress all to yourself. You’re selfish, you leave me with the scraps and then call me a creep for wanting a decent night of sleep,” Dazai says, voice a sulky hiss.
You stare at him—you don’t respond, just stare at the back of his head, willing yourself not to get violent, because there is no way that the boy who has moved himself into your apartment, leeches off your food, shampoos, soaps, and conditioners, has made a home on your couch and in your guest bedroom, who sneaks into your bed without even a small complaint from you, has the nerve to call you selfish.
As if Dazai can feel the rapidly approaching violence coming from you, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, visible eye wide and deceptively sad, head tilted to the side at a demure angle that you know he uses to get what he wants from whatever fool falls for the shitty act. You think he has some nerve trying to use it on you as if you won’t see right through it.
“It’s not fair,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet now, honeyed but you can all but taste the venom of the manipulation in the sweetness. “I just want to sleep too. It’s not fair you get all of the comfortable stuff. You’re making me seem like a creep, but I just want to sleep, and now everything is ruined.”
Therein lies the issue: the mattresses in your bedroom and the guest bedroom are in fact the same, and the sheets are the same brand and style but in different colors. The comfort of the bedroom is not the issue here. So, you choose to play his game.
“Fine,” you agree lightly. “You can take my bedroom. I’ll move into the guest bedroom. Nothing will be ruined anymore. Problem solved.”
“No.”
The sweet expression on his face drops, his gaze sharpens as he stares at you from the corner of his eye. You can barely refrain from rolling your eyes.
“No?” 
“No.”
“And why not, exactly?” you ask tightly, the thin smile on your lips strained.
“You’re not allowed in my room,” Dazai says matter-of-factly.
Oh my god, you think to yourself, feeling a headache coming on, the fucking audacity of this boy.
“That is my guest room,” you say slowly. “If I want to go in there-”
“It’s been mine for over a year. It’s mine, and you’re not allowed in, so you have to stay here,” Dazai corrects firmly. “Therefore, everything is still ruined.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.”
“Why, Dazai?” you ask, becoming frustrated quickly. “What is your fucking issue? Jesus, I’m tired, I-”
“I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep unless you’re yhere and now it’s ruined because you weren’t supposed to know,” Dazai says so suddenly and so loudly that it startles you, and then he looks distressed as if he didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t-I don’t know why-it just happened-I don’t-”
Dazai cuts himself off with a sharp breath when he realizes he can't even talk his way out of the situation, only fumbling over an explanation and making things worse for himself. If he looked embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. His visible eye looks glassy, expression twisted and uneasy. His exhaustion has loosened his tongue too much and now he looks like he wants to rid himself of it entirely. His fingers are curled into fists so tightly that you think his uneven nails must be drawing blood from his palms.
At once, all of the fight left in you disappears.
“I’m going,” Dazai says more to himself than you. “I’m going. I’m just going to go. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”
You don’t know if by go he means go to ‘his’ room or if he means leave your apartment and hide away in his shipping container for days like he usually does when he’s upset about something. Either way, Dazai is close to dead on his feet—you can see it in the way he sways as he tries to push himself up and you can see it in the way his visible eye droops down, hardly able to hold it open. You don’t think he’d make it to the hall without his legs giving out on him, much less to his shipping container halfway across the city—he’d be easy pickings for the numerous enemies he’s made waiting for a chance like this to finally take him out.
You sigh and before he can get half a step away, you snatch his wrist and tug him right back down into the bed. He shoots you an affronted look.
“Stop manhandling me,” he complains again. “You’re turning into a brute like Chuuya.”
“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, “and lay down. How is going somewhere else going to solve your sleeping problems? I don’t know how you’re somehow both the dumbest and smartest person I’ve ever met.”
Dazai curls in on himself a bit, and you frown because he’d usually preen and tease you about the compliment, but he only looks unsure now. “It’s ruined-”
“Lay down,” you say, firmer this time, watching as Dazai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before he averts his attention to the ceiling. He lays down awkwardly, head resting on your pillow; he turns on his side so that his back is to you. He makes no move to pull the covers over him. 
You let yourself roll your eyes now that he’s not looking at you, reaching down to pull the covers over both of you. You hesitate for a second, but then you choose to shift closer to him, resting your head down on the pillow as you wrap your arm loosely around his waist. He stiffens instantly, and you give it a second to see if he relaxes. When he doesn’t, you start to push yourself back away from him but before you can, he grabs your wrist to hold you in place, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he relaxes back against you.
“Nothing is ruined,” you murmur, eyes sliding shut now that you can finally rest. “I told you, I don’t care. Just sleep, Dazai. You need it.”
“... Only for tonight, one last time,” he yawns, unconsciously shifting back closer to you. It’s another blatant lie, but this one only makes you smile fondly.
“Sure,” you agree. “Only for tonight.”
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When you wake up in the morning, Dazai is tucked right into your side. You’d shifted at some point during the night to lay onto your back and he’d curled right into you, resting his head on your shoulder and slinging an arm around your waist. Your gaze flickers to the clock on your nightstand and you let out a soft breath when you see that you have thirty minutes before you have to be at the main headquarters for your meeting with Mori but…
Your mouth dries when you glance down at Dazai. His bandaged eye is pressed into your body, but you can see the way his visible one is slid shut, lashes brushing his cheek as he sleeps. His face is so smooth and relaxed, breaths deep and even, peaceful in a way that you never really see of Dazai Osamu. You hadn’t fully closed your blinds before falling asleep last night, and you find yourself entranced by the way Dazai looks underneath the early morning sun, breath hitching as he lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat before shifting closer to you.
Fuck.
You let out a puff of air, eyes sliding shut. There’s no way you’ll be able to slip out of bed without waking him up, and you find that you don’t want to wake him up. Dazai is an irritating little shit, and he makes your life as difficult as he possibly can, but you think you’d be cruel purposely disrupting the little bit of peace in his life that he can have.
(You also think that you never give a shit about cruelty unless Dazai Osamu is somehow involved and the recipient of it, but you instantly dispose of that thought.)
Decision made, you reach for your phone and quickly shoot a text to Mori:
Something came up. Meet later.
And you promptly shut your phone off before settling back in bed with Dazai, arm curling around his waist and head falling to the side so that you can bury your face in his soft brown hair. You notice, as you doze back off, that it smells suspiciously like the expensive vanilla shampoo that you specifically told him not to use, but you’re already too sleepy to make a fuss out of it. 
You’ll bitch about it later, you decide.
(If you can feel him smile against your shoulder as you fall back asleep with him, you ignore it.)
855 notes · View notes
hobicakess · 5 months
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ROYAL TREATMENT | KNJ
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summary: Despite your arranged marriage you are coming to love Emperor Kim Namjoon and you surely do hope he's falling just as hard. Though in times like this you wished you never came to the Korean court, but Kim Namjoon sure does have a way with words and his coc-
rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)
pairings: Emperor!Kim Namjoon x Empress Reader
warnings: porn with a pretty plot , husband Namjoon, unedited, arranged marriage to lovers , period typical misogyny / ideals / themes , slight angst, minor violence , MC shakes the table , talks of having children, reader has a 'not like other girls moment' sorry , smug namjoon 'i want to eat his face' SMUT, Namjoon a emperor and a Dj? , clit pinching, fingering , nipple play, breeding kink no no no , very tame choking, big body tanned namjoon im seeing a pattern in all my namjoon fics.. love confessions, p in v, Namjoon loves his wife and MC loves her hubby 🫶🏼
authors note: Howdy hotties! this is my official apology for all the times i said i was going to update but i don't lol. this has actually been in my docs for a year… don't jump me pls have mercy!!! this is heavily inspired by Bridgerton and The great because i love a good hood jam!! anyway, hope you enjoy it and if you're new to my blog check out my other works xxx
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Since you've come to the Korean court to marry Kim Namjoon, he has been nothing but a gentleman.
Taking his time to get to know you as a person never forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do. You rejoiced that he didn’t take you on your wedding night instead holding you until you fell asleep in his warm arms. In your months of getting to know Namjoon you were coming to love the emperor and you hoped that he was falling just as hard. Though as of right now in this moment you wished you'd never come to this court.
Never married, never taken the time to know and love the royal that is your husband.
The Ladies of the court made you want to disappear. They were gossiping geese who didn't even read, they didn't know anything actually, only thinking of the latest hats from France or Russia. 
Aara was the leader of the flock and from what your handmaids had spilled– Aara and Namjoon used to have nightly affairs together before the two of you were married. You guess that's why she was so uppity and spiteful because she's bedded him, and you have yet too.
 “When will you and the emperor have children?” Aara asked, raising her glass teacup up to her thin lips.
“I am not ready for children nor is he''  
You and the emperor haven't even committed the act to conceive children, but she was the last person you'd tell this information to.
“When me and the emperor were intimate, he always said he'd put a baby in me. He's very vocal during lovemaking. That is too bad empress" all her geese cackle like witches while you sat in embarrassment. 
Your jaw tightened, fingertips starting to shake as you blew out a loud breath attempting to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to act out due to the fact the court saw you as a cruel person all because you were a foreigner who looked nothing like any of the ladies in Korea. Apparently, half the court believed you were the spawn of Satan or a witch, some rumors spread that you weren't even of noble blood.
All they needed was one good excuse to try and have you dethroned as empress and executed, but you couldn’t just allow her to walk all over you and talk to you in any kind of way anymore. You were still her superior. Standing from your chair everyone except Aara followed. 
Smoothing out your dress, you wait for her to move. Mockingly she looked around before she stood. “Oh, please forgive me for your grace. I did not notice you-"
The loud sound of the back of your hand making contact with her face echoed throughout the room. The music stopped playing and everyone went completely still and silent. Her geese tried to help her off the ground, but you raised a hand halting them to stop.  
“Aara. Ever since I stepped foot in this palace you have treated me with the utmost disrespect. I have spared you multiple times from my wrath because I am the empress and it’s simply not lady like” watching in satisfaction as her face reddens. 
“I do not care about your past relations with my emperor because at the end of the day. You were his whore, and I am his wife.” 
“I will bring him success; you will bring him disgrace and illegitimate bastards who will never run this country. Disrespect me again and you will be thrown into the slums and forced to work in the fields” Nodding at the ladies you walked out double doors with a newfound confidence.
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A Few Days Later
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“SHE'S SAID WHAT?”  you court maids' wince at the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls of your bathing room.
“Please do not be an angry empress.” Se-eun tried to reason by lightly pushing your shoulders back down into the milky lukewarm water.
“It is only a silly rumor.” Ye-Eun reassured you with a smile. 
You settle your back onto the stone behind allowing Sumin to softly brush through your thick coils. While Yoon, Isa, and Si-Eun looked for fragrances to add to the water. The girls have been your only friends since you’ve stepped foot into the castle. Sighing you let yourself relax just a little bit “What if the emperor hears of this? Surely, he’s heard that I striked her only days ago” 
“Yes, I’ve heard.” your emperor's deep voice echoed throughout the bath hall. Your Handmaid's scramble to bow but he simply raised his hand towards them “You’re dismissed.”
The girls bow toward you rushing off, now it was just you and your husband alone, and you were naked, but he couldn’t see your body through the creamy water. He walked towards you slowly moving into the spot behind you. 
“I apologize for interrupting your bathing time, but I have been busy, and this seems to be the only place we can be left alone.” 
“Of course, I understand my lord” you hum when you feel him brush through your hair. “I was gone from the palace for only six days' and yet you've already caused trouble.” He snorted, placing the brush down to lean on the tub's cold stone railing. “May I come in with you?”
You swallow hard, breathing heavily, nodding your head. You watched him wide eyed stand to his feet and start to unbutton his dress shirt showing off his golden chest, thick and toned. When he began to remove his pants you turned your head away placing your hands to your bare chest feeling your heart beating rapidly.
He stepped in leaning on the other side of the wall, “I've heard of you striking Aara, the whole noble country has” you sigh, sinking deeper in the water.
“You did well holding your own. I know she can be a.. nuisance.” he blew out a breath, thick arms stretching out to lean back on the marble. 
“Because you used to fuck her no?” The emperor sputters, eyes widening at your word.  “I have to get used to your vulgarness.” 
You hummed feeling a creeping pettiness enter your body. "Just like I have to get used to your whores." 
He stared at you with a playful glint in his eyes, "Are you jealous wife?" 
 You huff standing angrily, water dripping off your naked body, biting his lip tight, the pit of his stomach twisting in arousal as he stared at every curve and dip of your body.  “I am not a commoner; I do not get jealous.”
He swallowed trying to find the right words but she they’re not leaving his lips. You continue on your angry rant as you leave the tub grabbing your own towel. “I came here all the way from ten buck two, married a man whom I have never met, and everyone has failed to inform me on how to deal with having a husband who likes to share his seed with women who will never-”
You squeaked as a strong arm wrapped around your body. Your bare back was pressed onto a wet chest and the warmth of his breath on your neck gave you goosebumps as you shiver. “Let… me go Namjoon.”
He hummed as his hand roamed your stomach embarrassedly kneading the doughy flesh. “You won't even let me say how proud I am? My empress, my wife who speaks her mind and lets her power over her subjects be known.”
You felt hot all over as his other hand softly wrapped around your neck then trails lower and lower to your center. “I wish I was there to see it” he pressed himself into your back and you felt it. 
He was thick , and hot against your back as he groaned. “Tell me to stop and I will .. tell me please.” In front of you both there was a large mirror where you two stared at each other. He took your silence as a go to continue his touches on your body. He turned your head to him, pressing his lips to yours.
Roughly the two of you kisses tongues dancing over one anothers as his hands groped your breast, and nipples. When you both felt dizzy you part with a string of spit as you both panted. He smiled lazily  brown eyes hazy as he partied your sticky thighs with his large hand. Finger swiping the essence that drips from your core. 
“You squeal embarrassed, closing your eyes as he runs his finger effortlessly through your slippery folds, then taunting your clit. He effortlessly slipped his thick cock in between your folds, his hand gripping your hips tightly as he held your jaw in his other hand. He thrusts his hips into your pelvis smacking against your ass, your wetness coating his cock while he wildly fucked your thighs. 
“Do you know how tempting you are?” He grunts in your ear while you gasp and wither under his touch. “I must hold myself back every night from pinning you down and fucking you worth an inch of your life.”
Your stomach began to twist from the pressure of his thumb stroking your clit in rough circles, “Joon-” 
“There you go cum for me” You gasp, thighs quivering, feeling your knees wobble but he holds you up, thrusting quicker between your thighs. you fall apart in his hold shivering and gushing over him. 
He pulls his cock from between your thighs hand wrapped around himself as he uses your essence to jerk his red and leaking tip. He cums with a deep groan, white ropes landing onto your ass. Namjoon's head falls onto your shoulder breathing you in.
“Lets clean up, hm?” 
nodding weakly you allow him to bring you back into the now cool water of your bath. He cleans you without a peep only letting out soft deep rumbles 
When the cleaning is done, he brings you to your shared bedroom that is connected to the bathing room laying you softly onto the soft fabric of your bed. You watch him busy himself grabbing the oils, and lotions you always applied after bathing. His hands started from your left foot rubbing you lovingly. The aching between your legs starts again, too aware of how close his hands were to your cunt as he makes his way use to the crease of your thighs. “I do not fornicate with. . . horses.”
Wow what a way to set the mood.
Namjoon chokes on his spit, a deep laugher bubbling from the depths of his chest.
811 notes · View notes
daisymbin · 18 days
Text
do you still love me? (I still love you) - choi seungcheol
warnings: mentions of insecurity, slight use of profanities, car accident, hospital, mentions of a needle (IV drip) & mention of anxiety attack.
pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader (use of she)
genre: exes to lovers, angst-ish, happy ending
word count: 2.3k
a/n: wanted to write for wonwoo but lollapalooza choi seungcheol won't let me, he is stuck and imprinted on my brain fr. I will do anything for that man....also this fic is loosely inspired by seventeen's happy ending.
requests open!
check out my masterlist!
“what? no! don't call him! are you crazy?” your hands frantically reached out to grab seungkwan at his hand that was holding his phone. “crazy? who's the one being crazy here? I can't believe this happened and you didn't even think to call me, if i hadn't call and asked to hang out I wouldn't even have known you'd gotten into an accident. are YOU crazy?? you just plan on lying on this hospital bed waiting to recover alone??” seungkwan whisper-shouted at you. “seungkwan please we already broke up, I don't want to bother him or give him any more burdens. besides, I don't even know if he will still care and to be honest, I don't want to know. I don't want to find out that he doesn't anymore so just let me live with my what ifs.” it's true, you'd rather not find out that he's moved on and doesn't care anymore than to know for sure that he doesn't care anymore. you don't think you have it in you to bare another heartbreak.
“you do know that he is still madly in love with you and that he asks me about you everyday still right? he is literally going to cuss me out if he finds out you're hurt and I didn't tell him. I don't even know why you broke up with him in the first place, you were both so good together!” seungkwan's words only filled your heart with more regret. you had broken up with seungcheol a little over 2 months ago but you both decided to stay friends for the sake of the boys. you had all been friends for too long, too many years to let them all go. seungkwan has been your best friend for over a decade and so was he with the boys, it was inevitable that you'd run into each other even if you tried to avoid him or them so this was your compromise.
it wasn't decided easily of course. when you first broke up, you had tried your hardest to avoid seungcheol at all costs, if he was going to be at a hangout, dinner or lunch, you would stop yourself from going bu seungcheol was persistent; begging that you'd at least be friends for the sake of the friend group & for his own sake as well, he couldn't stand not being able to see you or hear from you for too long. why the break up? to put it simply: you were insecure but that was just an understatement. every date you went on with him, every time you went out in public with him, pictures would inevitably find its way online. the comments were sweet, well most of them. for the rest? they were not so good & they started to eat at you everyday. you started to feel like you weren't good enough for him & that he could choose anyone and I mean anyone other than you, you just can't help but feel like he was settling for less with you. & slowly, this small insecurity grew so big that you started to distant yourself from him, avoid his hugs, his touches. when seungcheol finally had enough & asked you what was going on, you had decided on a whim to simply lie to him & told him you fell out of love with him.
you still remember the look of hurt that he had on his face that day and it haunts you every night before you close your eyes. almost immediately, you had wanted to take back what you had said, tell him whats really going on, you had so badly wanted to hug him so tight and to kiss the hurt away and yet, you didnt have it in you to continue being less for him when he deserved so much more.
“seungkwan you know why, just stop please just don't call him. it's just a small accident, I'll be fine once my leg heals.” you tried your absolute hardest to assure him, to convince and persuade seungkwan, but he's your best friend afterall. he knows you're not okay. “it's not just a small accident! you literally fractured your foot in a car accident and you have 3 stitches on your arm! you can't walk that's for damn sure, what, are you just going to not let any of our friends visit you for i don't know a few months? and not come to dinner and not expect anyone to ask about you? you know i can't lie for shit.”
“just… just tell them I left the country for a bit. for travelling or something I dont know just make something believable up. Just don't call him, I don't want him to see me like this. god, I look and sound like a loser. I don't want seungcheol to-”
the door to your ward swang open so hard a loud thud rang from the wall. “don't want me to what?” seungcheol asked as he panted; trying to catch his breath. your eyes widen at the sound of his voice, “cheol…what…” it seems for a minute, your brain had shut down., nothing was coming out of your mouth. “h-hyung,” seungkwan who was as shocked as you are, stuttered. “what are you doing here?” seungkwan had voiced his question for you. “y/n's hurt. you're hurt.” seungcheol answers as he looks back at you. seungkwan watched your face, clearly still shocked and struggling, “y/n is fine, she's just-”
“she doesn't look fine with a fucking needle up her arm. why didn't you call me?” you couldn't tell if seungcheol's question was for you or for seungkwan but you decided to speak anyway, “cheol-ah I'm fine, i-i just fell down the stairs.” what a stupid fucking excuse seungkwan thought to himself. what happened to making up something believable??? seungkwan tried to hide his face of unamusement. “you fell down the stairs?” this time seungcheol fixed his squinted eyes on you scrutinisingly. his right eyebrow raised in disbelief and he started walking closer to your hospital bed. while you tried to hide your casted foot out of sight as much as possible. “yeah I just, I tripped over my foot and fell down the stairs, just had a few cuts here and there and some stitches. no biggie.” you tried to sound as lighthearted and careful as much as you could while trying your best to hide the pain from having to move your foot out of sight.
“don't move, god, the hospital called and said you've gotten into a car accident, you still have me as your emergency contact.” oh. oh. well fuck. seungkwan sensed the already existing tension rising rapidly and decided it's best to go, “okaaay I should probably go and let you have some rest-” seungkwan almost feels invisible in the way seungcheol keeps disregarding his words and interrupting him, “why'd you not tell me? is this fun to you? the same way you fell out of love with me and just didn't tell me until I asked? why do I always have to find out things in the worst way possible?” seungcheol knows he's being harsh but he doesnt mean to, he's just so angry and hurt. so much anger in him towards himself for not being better for you. how bad must he have been, how much was he lacking for you to fall out of love with him? is it work? but he did try to make time for you, bringing you out for dates but you would reject those dates, movie dates at home were also always getting cut short, you no longer wanted to fall asleep on him shoulder or lap, you just went your way to the bedroom after announcing you're tired even before the halfway mark of the movie. was he doing something wrong? there's so much he still hasn't gotten the chance to ask you before you walked out on him.
and now seungkwan, seungkwan was a lot of things but patience? that man has very limited patience and he definitely doesn't have patience for the way seungcheol is speaking to you now. he has had enough of you running away from seungcheol when you still clearly have feelings for him. “hyung,” seungkwan reached for seungcheol's wrist, trying to get his attention. “come with me.” he started tugging and pulling at seungcheol's arm, dragging him out the ward. “she got into a car accident because she was having an anxiety attack because our song was playing on the car radio…your voice.. anyway…she's still in love with you.” seungkwan let out a deep breath he didnt know he was holding, he watches as seungcheol's eyes widen and dilate in shock, “im not trying to butt in your relationship with her or take her side but…just go easy on her. she's- just talk to her, give her some time, she'll open up to you again. you know what she's like when she wants to be stubborn. I'm going to get going, tell her bye for me.”
for the next 5 minutes, seungcheol stood by the door with his back slumped against the wall, replaying the words seungkwan had said to him. you still love him? you're still in love with him? how? but didn't you… didn't you tell him you don't anymore? if you still love him, why did you say that? he gently opened the door to your ward this time, making his way to you. he pulled the vacant chair closer to your bed before taking a seat, “cheol-ah, you don't have to stay here, i was just about to get some sleep anyway, im good on my own. I know you're busy-” “do you still love me?” the room turned so silent you swear you could hear if a pin were to drop on the floor. when you said nothing, he continued, “I have so many questions but i-i just need to know if you still love me... do you know how much I missed you?” tears you were so badly trying to hold back only cascaded down your cheeks, betraying you. both his hands come up to cup your delicate face inbetween his hands, both his thumbs working to wipe your tears away, “don't cry, pretty. you're breaking my heart.” his own voice cracks and his own tears starts showing themself around his brown orbs but you watch as he blinks them away. “tell me you love me." he whispered so quietly, your head now facing down, eyes closed as you start sobbing. “i can't cheol…if I tell you, if I tell you I love you I don't think I can let you go again.” the room fills itself with the sound of your sniffing and crying.
“you don't have to let me go, just tell me you love me and I won't let go of you, not again.” he placed a gentle kiss at the top of your head, bringing your face to his chest as he hugs you silently. “but cheol,” seungcheol doesn't think he can take it anymore if he hears you call him cheol one more time, he's growing putty and puttier in your presence. “yes, sweetheart?” he asked as he started stroking your hair. “im nobody and you're…you. we’re so different and we’re of two different worlds. you're doing so good in life and you're so handsome and im just…” his heart only breaks further at your words, “you're beautiful. you're the most beautiful person my eyes has ever laid on. you have always been beautiful to me and you still are. & we’re not that different, my love, even if we are, isn't that what we both love about us? so different yet so similar. you have qualities I lack and we compliment each other so well, no?” seungcheol pulled away slightly only to look into the eyes he had missed so much. “if there's somewhere or something im lacking at, tell me so I can be better for you.” he assured you again. “you're not lacking at anything at all cheol.” seungcheol notes how this is the loudest and clearest you've spoken since he's gotten here and he doesn't miss a beat when he says “you're not lacking either, you're doing so good my love. I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that? I love you just as you are, everything about you, I love you at your best and I love you just the same at your worst times. you just need to let me in when you have bad thoughts, let me love and reassure you hm? can you do that for me?” he asked as he patted at your head gently again. you had merely nodded lightly & said “im sorry cheol.” with more tears running down your cheeks before he spoke again, “it's not your fault, princess. I'm sorry I didn't notice it back then, it's my fault. I'm sorry.” a light peck of a chaste kiss placed on your cheek as you shook your head in disagreement, “it’s not your fault cheol.” cheol cheol cheol he couldn't take it anymore; bringing your face closer to his, he looks into your eyes again, asking for permission, at the small nod of your head, you fluttered your eyes close and he wasted no time in bringing his lips to yours gently, afraid of hurting you. his heart overwhelms in love for you, lips and tongue exploring each other in lost familiarity, oh how much you both missed each other.
“you still haven't answered me, princess.” another kiss to your forehead this time, “do you still love me?” his eyes searched yours again, looking for a hint of anything. you caught him by surprise when you pulled him in for another kiss, “I still love you. I love you, cheol, so much."
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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months
Text
JJK men with a big-chested reader
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Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)
Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍
Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!
Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭
Click here to get to the small-chested version
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Nanami Kento
You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.
“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”
Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.
You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.
This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.
“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”
His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.
“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”
You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.
“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”
You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.
“Listen, darling.”
He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.
“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”
“No!”, you blurt out immediately.
Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.
“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”
“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“
“I’m afraid.”
You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-
“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”
He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.
“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.
Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?
“Let me make a few things clear.”
He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?
“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“
“You didn’t even see them yet.”
“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.
“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”
Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.
“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.
“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”
Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?
You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.
“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.
His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.
Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.
“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.
You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.
“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”
“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.
“Going to bed sounds good…”
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Geto Suguru
You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.
What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.
But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.
“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”
“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”
“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”
You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…
“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.
“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“
“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”
You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.
He deserves to know it
“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“
“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.
But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?
“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”
His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.
“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.
There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.
“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.
A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…
Your breasts.
What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.
God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.
“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”
You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.
“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.
“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”
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Yuji/Sukuna
You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.
Just like right now.
“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.
Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.
“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.
“What a slut”, another voice mutters.
“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”
Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.
“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.
“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”
“Look, the cow brought her friends!”
“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”
“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”
Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.
“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.
You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?
“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”
Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?
“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.
“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”
“I won’t let you-“
Enough.
“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”
That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-
“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.
“And you.”
With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.
“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.
Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?
“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.
“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“
In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.
You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?
“Get going”, he barks at you.
“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.
“And give Yuji back.”
“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”
“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.
“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”
You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?
“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.
“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.
Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.
What?
“N-No”, you stumble.
How are you supposed to get over this?
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Gojo Satoru
Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.
Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.
“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.
A cocktail, exactly what you need today.
“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.
What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.
“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.
You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.
“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”
Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.
Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:
Your boobs.
Is the man sitting next to you one of them?
“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”
Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.
“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.
While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.
“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?
“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.
“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”
The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-
You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.
“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”
His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.
“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.
“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.
Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.
“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”
With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.
“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.
“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”
When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?
“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”
“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”
A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.
“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.
“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.
“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”
“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.
“Oh, it’s okay.”
You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.
Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.
“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.
“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.
“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.
“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”
“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”
“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”
He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.
“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”
“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.
“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”
“(y/n)”
“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”
He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.
“Let’s get you home, okay?”
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Dividers by @saradika 🤍
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stilesmieczyslaw · 3 months
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Stubborn Longing
*****Minors DNI!! 18+ Only content. *****  Words: 8.5K Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female Velaryon/Strong reader  Summary: Aemond swore that one day you would be wed. When the time actually came you wanted nothing to do with him and his prejudices. Slowly you remember how close you used to be.  Warnings: Targcest, Sex (P in v), masturbation, grinding, enemies to lovers? Friends to enemies to lovers? Slightly OOC Aemond. Lots of background filler and time jumps before the smut, smut. Loss of Virginity. Slight mention of blood. Fingering One swear word. No use of Y/N (If I miss anything let me know) The author is dyslexic and apologises in advance.  AN: I'm a Daemon girlie. But somehow I've been sucked into Aemond girlie territory. I can't get enough of your beautiful writing and fics... And edits. You're all fantastic and I hope you enjoy. Read my other unrelated fics here
You were the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Your hair was brown and curly. Your complexion looked nothing like your father's. Yet still you thought nothing of it. You had fond memories of laughing in the gardens with your father. Chasing him around trees and getting dirty, sneaking extra pieces of cake from the dessert table. Your mother would sometimes scold you both but she also encouraged it. If the people at court saw you playing with Ser Laenor then maybe they wouldn't question it.
You also had fond memories of your mother. You didn't understand what was wrong but there were some days, when she thought she was alone where she anxiously played with her fingers, absentmindedly staring into the fire. Tears at her water line but never shed. You silently wandered over to her and put your head on her knee. The first few times shocked her but now she grew accustomed to it. She stroked your hair and you drifted off. You woke again in your room unknowing how you got there.
You don't remember your younger brother Jace being born. He was just always there. But some days he was boring. He just lay there in his bed - which was unfair. Why was he allowed to sleep in mother and father's room while you slept in the next one?
The only other children to play with were your Uncles and Aunt. They had white hair just like your mother, father and grandsire. Your eldest Uncle, Aegon, sometimes would play but sometimes would be dragged away for lessons as he was older than the rest of you. Helaena your Aunt always seemed to prefer the company of bugs. Always finding somehow the biggest. Although custom would say you would spend your time with her. You were of similar ages.
But secretly you'd always spend time with your uncle Aemond. It started off as games you'd play together. Although his mother disapproved of these games. Or more so you. She was worried her son would get too attached to the bastard children. She could not let this happen. But what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. As you got older you'd find yourself alone with Aemond reading books. Both of you wanted to learn. More than what was expected of you. You'd teach each other High Valyrian.
Aemond was your best friend. You'd spend all day with him if you could but he had to learn to fight while you had to learn to be a wife.
"You should be my wife," Aemond said out loud after you had returned from one of your lessons. "Us?" You scoffed. He looked at you offended. "I did not mean it like that." You waved him off. "Your mother hates us being friends. Never mind us being wed." "Well, I was taught a good wife should know her husband. Who knows me better than you." "That is a good point and I wouldn't have to leave Kings Landing." You nodded. "But I'm sure your mother would try to find you someone else anyway." "What if I could convince her?" "You won't." You almost sang looking down at your book.
After the birth of your third brother Joffrey, your mother announced you would not live in Kings Landing anymore. A third child who did not look like her husband. What did it matter? Their father was their father and they all looked like each other. Did white hair matter when inheriting the throne? Apparently, it did. Your mother gathered all of your belongings while you begged her to stay. 
You were to live on Dragonstone. To which you were the heir. You might as well get used to it now. When your mother becomes Queen it will be your home and when your brother becomes king it will remain your home. You went to find Aemond for one final goodbye. You sat in the woods with him, underneath your shared tree. "You'll be back." He said rather confidently. "Will I?" You looked up at the castle. "When we wed." "You are a fool Aemond. But I admire you for it."
With your absence, his mother spoke more freely about your heritage. You were not your father's daughter. Aegon heard the rumours of Ser Harwin Strong. Aegon passed this knowledge to his brother. Aemond wondered how you could be the product of something so wrong. The more he heard it the more he hated it. How dare a bastard be his friend? Poison words enter the heart of a child so easily. 
Your father's sister died and the whole family were called to Driftmark for her final send-off. While you were sad for your father you tried to contain your excitement to see Aemond again. He had stopped replying to your letters. Maybe he was deep into his studies. When you finally saw him after months of missing him you couldn't help but run to him and hug him. His hug was stiff but you ignored that. 
"How is your plan going Aemond? Our marriage." You asked. "I miss Kings Landing." Part of you was joking, the other secretly hoped. You had missed him terribly. "If that's all you miss then maybe we should not get wed." The words were filled with hate. "Oh." You frowned. "It was a childish dream. I see now it does not matter. When I marry it must be for duty." "For what end would our marriage be then?" "It does not matter." He turned away from you.
For the rest of the night, you tried to talk to him again but he avoided you. You searched the castle on Driftmark for him and you found him at the wrong moment. You could hear the shuffling of a fight. You saw your brothers, cousins and Aemond fighting.  "You will die screaming in flames just as your father did...Bastards!"  "Aemond." You gasped. He turned to look at you. Horror in his eyes. He didn't mean for you to hear that. 
Your younger brother Luke took Aemond's moment of distraction to swipe at Aemond with a knife, taking his eye. He did not mean for the injury to be that bad but the past could not be rewritten. You shouted for help while Aemond lay on the floor bleeding. You were pushed away by The King's guard. Aemond's eye was lost and with it your friendship. 
The Queen wanted your brother's eye in return but your mother would never let that happen. But the Queen was determined. Her son lost something, so something must be taken in return. The King had a brilliant idea - Only in his mind. He proclaimed once you came of age. You and Aemond were to be wed. Something which this morning you would have taken with glee. But now you looked at the boy and glared. You hated him and by the look in his remaining eye. He felt the same. 
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"Mother." You tried to get her attention. She was rushing around in a panic. "Mother please." "We must prepare for the journey. You are to be wed tomorrow and nothing is ready." "If we do not go then we do not need to be ready." You tried. "Your King demands it, my love." She sighed. "The King... Does not know me. Not anymore." You held your tongue. You had more choice words that you would not utter in front of your mother.
"Your Grandsire was there the moment you were born. The look of happiness in his eyes as he held you for the first time."  "And yet he strives to take my happiness."  "You and Aemond used to be so close. Maybe you can be again." She tried to remain positive. You shook your head.  "No. Not after what he called me. The disrespect to my father. Who won't even be here to see his daughter sold like a..." You bit your tongue again. 
"Sweet girl." Your mother played with your hair. She was nervous. Something was eating at her mind. "You may be husband and wife to the outside walls but you can control what happens behind closed doors. If you do not wish to be with Aemond in private you do not have to be." She didn't say it but you knew what she was saying. You nodded in understanding. 
The flight to Kings Landing wasn't a long one. You were on your dragon silently crying. This would be the last flight you would take with your family for a very long time. Your brothers flew in circles trying to make you laugh. You closed your eyes and listened to their laughter trying to keep it in your memory forever. 
Once landed and your dragon seen to, you looked up at the Castle. It did not look how you remembered. Nor did the people inside. Your Grandsire looked more tired and old than you last saw him. Helaena was the mother of two small children. Aegon looked like he was fighting back a smirk and Aemond... Aemond had grown so tall. His eye patch suited him and he looked at you with distaste. You tried to meet his gaze of fire with your own but you couldn't hold it. You hated it. You hated him. 
The day came and your Mother and Step Father officially gave you to Aemond. Your hands were tied and you uttered words that had no meaning to you. You sealed your marriage with a kiss. You kept your face neutral no matter how much you wanted to scream. The crowd cheered as you walked through them with your husband. 
There was a giant feast in your name. Food from all corners of the seven kingdoms was presented and music played. You found yourself dancing with your brothers. Your new sister Helaena. Even your Stepfather danced with you. Your mother stayed to the side. Her pregnant belly was only a reminder of the life you were going to leave behind. Were you to have a new brother? A sister? Would you know their laughter? Would they know your face? 
The music slowed and the King announced that it was time for you and Aemond to dance before retiring to your marital bed. Aegon laughed loudly. You danced the dance your mother taught you. Move after move. You felt numb. This was the worst night of your life. Whispers filled the room. You ignored them. You knew now why your mother sat and looked into the fire looking sad. But unlike your mother, you would not receive comfort. Not here. 
When you reached Aemond's, no, your chambers... Your blood which was supposed to be made of fire, turned to ice. You did not wish to lay with your now husband. It might have been your duty but you did not wish it. The torment he brought you and your brothers. Calling you Bastards. Your mother said you did not have to, but what if Aemond expected it of you? 
Aemond stood behind you. His beautiful wife. He had wanted this for so long. He knew he had wanted you as his Lady Wife since he was a child. He let his mother's hatred into his head and he had regretted it every day. Not just because he had lost his eye over it but he lost you too. He would never forget the look on your face when he called you a Bastard. The last thing he saw with both eyes. He lost you. 
When he saw you arrive on Dragon back his breath was taken away. You had become a beautiful woman in the years you had spent apart. How he longed to write to you but he knew his letters would go unanswered, just as yours had done those years ago. When he saw you again it only reaffirmed his want of you. But he could tell by the tears running down your face this is not what you wanted. So he hid behind his cold demeanour. One that he was used to, one that people expected of him. 
As much as he desired you, he knew you did not feel the same. His own family did not want him so why would his now wife be any different? He could not remember the last time someone touched him with kindness. Not even a hug. His mind flashed back to when his brother forced a whore onto him and he vowed to never do the same.
He spoke finally, knowing you wouldn't. "I won't touch you. Not unless you ask." "I will not ask. Ever." You replied coldly. You walked off behind the divider to put on your night clothes which had been brought over by the handmaidens. It was difficult to get out of your marital gown but you refused to ask for help. Not from a man who would call you a bastard. Not from a man who claimed you like property. 
Once in your night clothes, you walked straight to the bed. It was freshly made but you could tell by the items surrounding the bed which side Aemond would sleep on and you chose to climb into the opposite side. Not long after Aemond joined you.
It was strange seeing a woman in his bed. He didn't hate you. He remembers only fond memories of your childhood. Times he was bullied by his own brother and yours. You would be there to console him. Make him laugh again. It was foolish to think after all these years you could pick up where you left off. As friends.
He climbed into his side. The both of you almost hung onto the side to ensure neither of you touched the other. You both did not sleep out of fear of doing such. You both were angry and you both were saddened. The following morning continued in silence. Your handmaidens helped you dress. They ignored the lack of maiden's blood on the bedsheets. You trusted them not to gossip but you couldn't be certain of that.
You made your way to break your fast with your family. It was almost like a mini feast again. How any of you still had room after last night you would never know. But you filled your plate with grapes, strawberries and other sweet fruits. Your mother greeted you with a smile and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Aemond watched with jealousy. His mother would never treat any of her children like that. Not even when he lost his eye did she offer comfort. She only wanted revenge. He sat down and loaded his plate with whatever.
"I see the tiredness in your eyes brother. Did you remember where to put it? It has been a long time since you last used it. Surprised it hasn't fallen off with neglect." Aegon very loudly teased. "Aegon!" His mother scolded, looking around with embarrassment. You scooted your chair closer to your mother.
Soon midday came and it was time for your family to leave. Their dragons were saddled and their things packed. Your own dragon looked at them with confusion. Why was she being left behind? It did not help that she could also feel your own emotions of abandonment.
"Mother please." You tried one last time. Tears filling your eyes. Kings Landing had not been your home in years. The last time you lived here your father was still alive. How could you walk the gardens knowing he wasn't here, waiting for you to find him?  "I'm sorry my dear." She shook her head. "It is too late. Your vows were before Gods and King. I can not part you as much as I wish to. Your souls are bound." She gave you one last hug before tending to your brothers making sure they were ready. 
Your Stepfather watched with a frown. Knowing what it was like to be in a forced and unloved marriage. He took your hand. A very rare form of affection from him.  "Say the word and I shall end this marriage for you." He looked into your eyes looking for understanding. You had heard rumours of his first marriage. It was said among court he had killed her.  "Thank you, Uncle." You gave a concerned smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
You watched with tears in your eyes as your family flew away on their dragons. Your dragon roared after them. You patted her neck and hugged her. She is what was left. You did not go to your lord husband for comfort. You did not go to anyone for comfort. You stayed alone. 
Your handmaidens would fetch you food. You didn't want to leave your chambers. Were you acting like a child? Maybe but it felt like your only option. Rumours spread amongst the small folk that the high towers had imprisoned you with shackles.
The King, your Grandsire, would call you to his chambers. You sat in silence. You no longer knew the man in front of you. "I remember." He said very laboured. "You'd sit on my lap and help me build my masterpiece." He gestured to his miniature stone version of Old Valyria. A place neither of you had been. "You'd laugh at my jokes. Tell me Princess, what happened to your smile?"
"I have no reason to smile My King. I miss my family." "Am I not family?" The way he looked at you. An old man trying his hardest to keep his family together. He, just like you missed his family. His daughter, his brother and his grandchildren. He was bound to this place just as much as you were.
"Of course you are... Grandsire." You gave him an honest as possible smile. Far from the sparkle of happiness, he was used to. But better than nothing. "This was once your home, we, your closest friends, allies, confidants. We can be again if you leave your chambers. Walk the castle. Eat with us. Read with the maesters." "Yes, My King." You bowed.
You started off small. You would venture to Helaena's chambers. Eat with her and her children. You played with them and told them stories. They didn't understand your words. But they brought you much comfort in this time. Helaena also seemed to enjoy your company. Or more so did not despise it. Sometimes she would listen to your stories too. You loved the three of them. "Third draw. Left dresser." Helaena would mumble. The first time she said it you thought she was asking for something. But when you showed her everything in the drawer she would shake her head.
Then you would venture to the books and scrolls. Another place of your childhood. Piece by piece you were learning to smile again. At least in public. You still hung onto the edge of your marital bed. Trying to escape without falling.
One particular hot day you realised you could not stay inside. It was time to venture outside. Feel the wind blowing on your face. Picking up your book you followed your feet to your favourite tree. How you would spend hours reading underneath it. How your feet remembered the way while your mind did not, you did not know.
You followed them and gasped when you saw him. Of course. It was his favourite place to read too. While you had left this place he had not. He rolled his eye when he heard someone coming towards him. Normally it was some handmaiden telling him his mother required his attention. He just wished to read in peace.
He looked up and saw you. Book nestled on your hip like it was a babe. His mouth went dry. You remembered the tree?  "I'm sorry my Lord." You gave him a practised bow. "I did not realise someone else would be here. I did not intend to disturb you. I shall take my leave."  "Wait." He called to your quickly retreating back. "You need not leave." You turned to look at him. "The tree is big enough for us both to sit." He gestured to the floor. 
You hesitated. You really did love that tree. The tree never hurt you. In the wind, you could hear Aemond's laughter. His face was void of emotion but you could hear his childhood laughter.  "Yes, My Lord." You finally agreed sitting down. The tree separating you. Neither of you reading but thinking of the other person sitting on the other side. 
You both continued this new tradition for days. Maybe after the second week silence was broken. A squirrel ran past you. You gasped with delight at the tiny creature. You stayed as still as possible to not startle it.  "Aemond." You couldn't help but whisper. It was so quiet he almost didn't hear you. He turned to see what you needed. It must have been dire for you to talk to him after two weeks. He followed your gaze and saw the creature that brought so much light to your eyes. 
He remembered how much you loved the squirrels of the gardens. For one of your name days, he vowed to catch you one but failed to do so. But he enjoyed the laughter he got out of you in the process.  "Shall I catch it for you Princess?" He offered.  "No. I think he shall miss his family if you do. Leave him be." He didn't fail to catch the double meaning of your words. How was he living his dream when you hated him so? 
As more time passed you both found yourselves not sitting on opposite sides of the tree but closer to each other. Even in your bed, you felt more relaxed. You were starting to get used to life again but you still missed your family.
A raven came telling you the news of your new baby brother. Your heart almost burst with happiness and sadness in equal measure. You wished to go to Dragonstone to meet him but you couldn't. You must remain here with your Lord Husband... who must have a quill somewhere in these chambers!
You scrambled around looking for anything to write back to your mother with. Words of congratulations and excitement. But, you could not find anything. You went to his personal bedside dressers. It felt wrong to go in them. These were his personal effects. You would go mad with rage if he looked at your things. But you really needed to write to your mother.
You looked at the two dressers. Left dresser, the third drawer down. You opened the drawer and there was writing equipment but also old pieces of parchment. Curiosity got the better of you. They were your old letters. From when you first moved to Dragonstone. Letters you never got replies to. You laughed at things you once thought so important you needed to tell Aemond.
Beneath your letters, there was one you didn't recognise. You knew the writing, it was Aemonds. The letter was addressed to you but you never got it. He speaks of regret of his words to you on Driftmark. How he wishes to become friends again before you are wed. So many words are scribbled out. If he felt this way why not send it? Maybe you could have worked on something rather than marry in hate. Who knows where your relationship could have been if he had sent this? You borrowed an empty piece of parchment and wrote your letter to your mother. 
"Hello, Aemond." You greeted sitting down beneath the tree. He looked at you puzzled. You never greeted him.  "Princess." He gave a nod of acknowledgement. You almost felt giddy. Even if Aemond wrote that apology letter years ago part of you hoped he still meant it now. You sat in your usual silence but you could not wipe the smile from your face. Aemond opened his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. "What has gotten your spirits up?" You looked at him with a smile. You meant this one. He could see it in your eyes. 
"Mother has given birth to a son. I have another brother. I feel much happiness for her." That and his unsent letter but to tell him that would be admitting you went through his belongings.  "Oh yes. I heard." He nodded. At least this one wasn't likely to be a... He stopped his own thoughts. No. You were his wife. Your parentage did not matter. You had gone back to your reading but he could not get back to his. He couldn't take his eye off your smile. He hoped he could make you smile like that again. 
Another week had passed and you felt yourself become restless again. You had now been in Kings Landing for a handful of months. The Queen still did not speak to you unless she absolutely had to. The King was growing ever weaker. Aegon was a drunken fool. Helaena was sweet but you wanted to do something else. Not sit inside. Not sit and read a book. You thought of your poor dragon. It had been too long since you had seen her. Your one memory of your home on Dragonstone and you had been neglecting her out of selfishness. Today you would take her out. 
But you could not leave the keep without permission. They say it is for your safety but you knew it was to stop you from running away. With a deep breath, you went to find your husband. This time every day he would be training in the courtyard with the knights. You walked to the courtyard where he had amassed a group of people. People always wanted to watch him but you never understood. What was the point in watching the same people fake fight every day at the same time? 
You watched him fight off the knights with ease. Despite only having one eye it did not stop him from having reflexes that could rival 20 knights. His fighting was almost like a dance. Every step calculated. His footwork working side by side with his arms. Sword going exactly where it needed to go. He was sweating and you could see his muscles working. Maybe you could see the point in people watching him fight. 
The fight ended and Aemond fought to catch his breath. In the crowd of people, he saw you. You would only be here if you needed something. He sheathed his sword and made his way over to you. There was something about him breathless and sweaty with his gaze focused on you. It made you feel some strange way. Nothing you had felt before.
"Aemond." You were almost breathless yourself when he was finally in front of you. "I would like to go for a ride." He pulled almost an amused face which was lost on you. "The Dragon keepers say my dragon has grown restless. I need to go for a ride."  "She grows restless. Or yourself?" He mused. "Both. So may I?" "As you wish Princess. But allow me to accompany you."  "Oh no. I wouldn't want to take you from your schedule." You tried to wave him off. 
"A good husband always makes time for his wife. Especially if that request is a ride." He almost smirked again.  "What is so funny?"  "Nothing."  "It's something. I'll get it out of you Aemond Targaryen." You pointed a finger at him like old times. "I'm sure you will." He let out a small chuckle. He went to link his arm with yours to walk you to the Dragon Pit, but remembered his vow. Do not touch. One playful conversation in weeks does not mean that changed.
You got yourself ready for your ride. Making sure that everything was fastened tightly. You hugged your dragon apologising it had been so long. When she put her head on top of yours you couldn't help but think of your mother. She would always be with you.
"Are you ready Princess?" Aemond's voice called out. You looked over and saw him ready to climb onto Vaghar. How he managed to claim her as a boy you would never know. You nodded. You got on your own dragon and urged her forward. She almost ran for the door. Once in the air, you felt free. Freer than you had in a long time. There was nothing but you, your dragon and the air.
Well... and your husband but he was flying lower. You could see for miles. You turned your head in the direction you knew to be Dragonstone. What were they doing? How were Joffrey's lessons going? How faired your mother and the babe? How easy it would be to fly back to them. But you could not. You would bring shame to yourself and your family. 
Aemond watched you. He always found himself thinking back to his childhood with you. How you had a dragon and he did not. How you'd promise him that you could fly together one day. And here you were flying together now. But again it was not how he imagined.
You looked down and almost laughed at how small Aemond looked compared to his dragon. His legs straddling the saddle. The way he used his legs to steer the direction he wanted to go. An image flashed in your mind of him straddling you. You shook your head. Where did that come from? The same feeling from the courtyard entered your mind. That strange feeling. You felt yourself move uncomfortably.
"Are you alright Princess?" Aemond called out to you. "Yes quite well. I must have not ridden in so long my legs grow tired." "Shall we retire?" He suggested. "Yes, I think so." You agreed before returning to the Dragon pit.
"Thank you for today Aemond. I appreciated it. If I ever require your services and a ride." You paused waiting for his reaction. "I'll let you know." You don't know why you did it, but it felt so right. Walking away you made sure to sway your hips more than you usually would.
More days passed and you found yourself watching your husband train from a balcony. Always that feeling came to you. What was it? You changed your posture, your thighs rubbing together and something felt good. You did it again and you had to bite your lip. You excused yourself to your chambers. You lay on your bed rubbing your thighs together and it felt amazing. A knock on the door pulled you from your playing and you felt embarrassed. Whatever that was, it was not fit of a lady.
But still, you could not help yourself. From those days on you would excuse yourself while Aemond trained. He would be gone for a few hours every day and in those hours you explored your body. You found all sorts of spots that made you feel good. One day while touching yourself an image of Aemond popped into your head. You imagined your hands were his and your pleasure doubled. You looked at the door longingly hoping he would come in and find you like this but he never did.
After that, everything he did drove you crazy. Even he slouched on a chair drinking from a goblet you wanted to climb onto his lap. You wanted a ride. You wanted one so badly.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
You woke first. All night you had dreams of Aemond touching you. There was an ache between your legs that wouldn't go away. You tried pressing your legs together in hopes of something eliminating the feeling but you couldn't. You couldn't touch yourself with him just there. You wanted him to touch you. All you had to do was ask. But what if he didn't want to anymore? What if he had grown accustomed to your mental absence that he did not wish to be with you? You wouldn't blame him. 
Images of him fighting in the courtyard filled your mind. His skill and passion. How sweaty he sometimes got. The way his hair would stick to his forehead. This wasn't helping you. It was making it worse. He was still sleeping soundly next to you. Maybe if you got a bit closer.
You remained on your side facing away from him. For if he woke up you could claim you moved in your sleep. You backed up slowly. You could still hear his deep breathing meaning he was still asleep. You backed up until you could feel his breath on your neck. It sent shivers down your spine. You still did not touch him, however. Now you waited.
It felt like an eternity but eventually, his deep breaths stopped. You obviously had no idea when he opened his eyes as you were facing away from him and also pretending to sleep. But you did hear his involuntary gasp when he noticed how close you were. He did not make a move to touch you but he also did not shy away.
He looked at your sleeping form. You were so close to him. He looked down and saw each of your curves beneath the sheets. He wanted so badly to run his hand down you. Starting from your shoulders, past your stomach, around your hips and your legs. That is when he noticed. It wasn't even his first thought when he saw you this close but now it was his only thought.
How close your ass was to his crotch. His trousers were already tight with it being morning but even more so now. If only you were a small bit closer then he could feel you pressed against him. He could rub himself on you. Your night shift let his imagination run wild. He clenched his fists to his sides. He promised he wouldn't touch you. Maybe he could sneak away. Deal with himself before you wake up. If you noticed and questioned his absence then maybe he could claim early morning training.
Before he could move you grew bored of this position. He had been awake for several minutes and had not made a move. You commended him for keeping his word but his word was not what you wanted right now. You wanted anything but his word. Keeping up the pretence of sleep you turned so now you were facing him. You wished you could have seen the look of shock on his face. If the view from your behind was anything the front was better.
Your hair was a mess. Soft brown curls were on your pillow and over your face. He remembered others calling you names because of your hair but he now knows it is perfect. It is a part of you. His eye travelled further south and landed on your breasts. The position you were in was pressing them together. His fists were almost shaking with how tightly he kept them to his sides.
He closed his eye and began to talk to himself in his own mind. 'She does not want you. She made that clear. She does not want to be touched by you. She wanted a different husband. A different husband who she would have let touch her. A husband who wasn't you. A husband who would know what she felt like... what she tasted like. Does she know? Does she touch herself when I'm not around? Who does she think of? Some lord? Some stable boy who smiles at her every day?' He grew jealous of his own thoughts and opened his eye to be free of them.
When he did he saw your eyes were open. You were looking at him. You had spotted how close you were and you did not recoil. He could see a hint of anger in your eyes. He should have moved away the moment he got the chance but he couldn't. He was so transfixed on looking at you and now you were angry.
He went to back up from you and you moved closer. This puzzled him. "Aemond." Your voice called to him. Far too awake for someone who woke up less than a minute ago. Unless you weren't asleep. "Yes." He answered like a million thoughts were not running around his head. "Touch me. Please Aemond." You almost begged. He was in shock for a moment. Maybe he was still dreaming. The look in your eyes, wasn't anger, not anymore. Your pupils were dilated. He noticed you rubbing your legs together. This was happening.
"What?" He knew exactly what you had said but he wanted to hear you say it again. "Aemond I would like you to touch me. Please. Touch me." You lifted your hand and ran it down his face. He slowly lifted his own hand and placed it on your waist. His eye closed. He had waited so long for this moment.
You sat up from laying down. His hand fell from your waist. His eye shot open. Surely that couldn't have been what you wanted? For him to touch your waist once and be done. He hadn't upset you, had he? His worrying thoughts were gone the moment you swung your leg around him so now you were straddling him. Your bed shift scrupled around your hips. Your legs bare to the side of you. He was reminded that there was nothing under your shift. The only thing separating the two of you were his own clothes.
You both looked at each other frozen in that moment. You had no experience in this field but something drew you to sit in his lap like this and you were glad you did. You could feel every inch of his outline against you and it felt good. But what now? Aemond saw the look of innocence on your face and almost came right there. With both hands, he held onto your hips and dragged you forward. The noise you made would stick with him forever.
It was a mixture of shock and pleasure. You felt a little embarrassed at it. A lady should not make that noise. Before you could say anything Aemond did it again earning the same noise. It felt so good. Maybe if you just... you dragged your own hips forward without his direction and it felt just as good. "Aemond." You said suddenly not knowing any other words. Any you did know were gone.
He sat up changing the position you were in. His chest was pressed against yours. You looked at him under partially closed eyes. You rocked your hips again and your eyes closed fully at the new sensation. Who knew him just sitting up would feel so different to him lying down?
He called out your name and you looked at him. He pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you want this?" He tried to confirm. "Truly." You nodded. He let out a laugh. "I want to hear you say it." "I want you. I want you so bad Aemond." You almost sounded like you were whining. "I have for a while now. I need you." He smiled at you wickedly before his grip on your waist became like iron before it travelled to cup your ass. From this new position, he ground you against him faster and more forcefully. Your eyes rolled backwards as your jaw dropped open.
He placed kisses on your neck enjoying the sounds you were making. He had dreamt of these sounds but they sounded so much better in real life. He nipped and pulled at your flesh with his teeth. His lips went lower but to his dismay, you were still wearing clothes. While your shift had fallen slightly to reveal your shoulders he wanted more than that.
He lifted his hands from your behind and held the edges of your clothes. He looked at you almost asking for permission. You nodded and he pulled it over your head. Now you were in front of him completely exposed. Your nipples hard and the mess you made on his trousers. Wet from where you had been grinding against him. He was in awe of your beauty. You almost hid yourself away from him but before you could he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples which earned him a brand new sound.
He placed one of his hands back into position getting you to grind on him again while the other played with your other breast. You were his. His wife. And the sounds you were making were his too. "Aemond." You called out to get his attention. He looked at you. His own spit coated his lips. He looked so good right now. Although his hair wasn't stuck to his forehead yet. That is what you wanted.
You took his hand from your breast and guided it between your legs. He had seen women at the brothel do this but he didn't know why. You lead his fingers to a sensitive spot and with your guide, he began to rub that spot. "Fuck." You moaned out arching your back. He watched your face crumple up. "How did you know to do that?" He teased going faster. "Have you been touching yourself? Not very ladylike." You nodded. "Tell me. What were you thinking of?"
Your cheeks immediately flooded red. Him. Always him. "Hmmm." He probed for an answer getting faster and faster. "You." You couldn't catch your breath. "You Aemond." You practically shouted. You could feel the familiar feeling in your lower stomach. But there was also something different about it.
"You should have told me. I could have helped you out." He teased more. How long had you been thinking about him? Was it as long as he had thought of you? "I did say all you had to do was ask." You nodded. "Yes, I should have." You agreed. Almost there. "I wanted you so badly. I... I..." your words got caught in your throat. "You what?" "I" was all you managed to get out before your climax washed over you. It was different from usual. Normally your hand would be caught up in your orgasm that you would stop rubbing your clit meaning you would only feel it for a few fleeting moments. But Aemond did not stop. He kept going watching you come undone on top of him. Your whole body shook.
You looked so beautiful in that moment for him. He needed to do this again to you. Now he knew what it was, he needed it again. Once your body stopped shaking and your eyes closed with tiredness he removed his hand. You felt like you might wobble off the top of him. "Ready for my turn Princess?" Whether or not he meant that as a pet name or your official title, you would never figure it out. You gave a nod.
He flipped you over so now you were on the bottom. You were still in a daze. "Look at what you've done to my trousers." He scolded. You looked down and tried to ignore the bulge and only focus on the giant wet patch. Maybe you might have felt embarrassed but you didn't care. "You felt so good." You sounded like you were drunk. Aemond looked down at his wife, delirious and wanting more and he was more than happy to oblige.
He undid the strings that were trying their best to hold his waistband together. His dick sprung free causing him to wince at the sensitivity. He kicked his trousers away and you shot a sneaky look. Obviously, you had already felt it but you didn't imagine it would look like that. All stiff and leaking slightly. "Enjoying the view?" You were caught. Clearly not as sneaky as you thought you were. You nodded and licked your lips.
"I'll go as slow as I can." His voice suddenly went soft. "It might hurt." You nodded at him. He ran his dick up and down your folds a few times to gather your wetness. It sent small shocks down your spine. Was he teasing you? "Aemond?" You questioned. "Just enjoying my wife. The one who said she'd never ask." You bucked your hips up trying to meet him but he held you down easily. You began to squirm underneath him. You felt so empty. You needed him inside you.
"Don't make me beg again. I was wrong. I do want you to touch me. I do." He didn't move. "Aemond." You tried to sound annoyed but you couldn't. He leant his face forward and kissed your lips. It was then you realised that in all of this, you hadn't kissed him yet. This was your first kiss since the wedding and it made you want more. Why had you been missing out on all of this again? His tongue glided against your lips and you knew immediately what he wanted. You opened your mouth and let him in. For a moment you wondered what his tongue would feel like elsewhere. Maybe another time.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. You didn't miss the smile he had as he slipped himself inside you. You gasped into his mouth and pulled your face away. "I've got you." He reassured. "You're okay." You nodded speechless. He slowly moved while kissing you again. Your sounds of discomfort slowly turned back into moans. It was a strange feeling. He was reaching places your fingers could never could. "Faster." You breathed into his ear. He did as asked. 
Your extra sensitivity meant you couldn't last much longer. The sensation in your stomach coming back. When Aemond started making noises you knew he wouldn't last much longer either.  "Aemond." You couldn't help but shout. He began to nod.  "I know. I know." He began to repeat over and over. He kept one hand by your head while his hand went back to the spot you had shown him earlier. The shock of pleasure had your body jolt forward clamping your muscles. Aemond let out his own moan which sent you over the edge for the second time. Your muscles pulsated around him and he finished inside of you. 
He stayed inside of you for a few moments catching his breath before rolling over beside you. You shuffled over to him and put your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him and saw what you wanted. His hair was a mess. You raised your hand and brushed it out of his face. He looked down at you puzzled. You moved your hand.  "What?" You asked suddenly worried that you had done something wrong. He took your hand and held it against his face. He leant into your touch. "What is it Aemond?" You were suddenly concerned. 
He took a deep breath in.  "Nothing." He brushed it off. Letting go of your hand.  "Don't do this Aemond. I'm your wife, as much as I have not acted like it. Please share your thoughts with me."  "I just fear now that you have gotten what you wanted from me, you will leave me."  "Aemond." You sat up brushing your own hair out of your face. You gathered the sheets to cover yourself. "I know what you think of yourself. I see it. You might think you hide it but I've known you my entire life." You turned back around to look at him. "I won't leave you." He didn't look at you, not believing you. 
You leant down to kiss him. You tried to put all of your feelings into the kiss. At first, he did not kiss you back but he got caught up in it.  "You don't need to believe me, at least not at first." You said pulling away. "But I will make sure you know. I will make it up to you. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you." You curled back up into his side. He moved slightly but only to hold you closer. You were in his arms as much as he was in yours. You both drifted off to sleep again. 
You both were woken by knocks at your doors.  "Prince? Princess?" It was your handmaidens.  "Go away," Aemond shouted at them. You giggled at his childishness. You heard the shuffling of feet.  "We should get up." You sighed. "Although I do not wish to." Closing your eyes again.  "We are needed for royal duties." Aemond agreed.  "Do any of your duties include training? I like it when you train." Aemond chuckled.  "Is that so?" You nodded at his question. "Watching you made me realise how badly I wanted you. Watching you sweat and be out of breath. I wanted to do that to you." "I can make it part of my duties. I do need to be ready to always protect the realm. And once I'm done I can find my Lady Wife." 
You pulled away from his arms and tried to get out of bed only to find yourself collapsing under your own weight and back onto the bed.  "It's like I'm on one of grandsire's ships." You giggled. "I might have to stay here all day." You beamed.  "Then how will you watch me train?" Aemond pointed out. You pouted. He kissed you. As he pulled away you pulled him back in for a second one. "I fear I have created a monster." 
"I'd like to say. In the future please feel free to touch me whenever you like. Well... Not whenever. We might cause quite a stir if we do that in court."  "Hmmmm." He traced circles on your side. "I like the idea of us sitting at the presiding table with my hand up your skirt." You shivered.  "Sounds like you've already thought about it." It was your turn to tease. He sat forward, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear.  "Oh, I have Princess. I've thought about many things."  "You should have let me know. I would have helped you." You mirrored his words from earlier. 
The both of you got dressed and Aemond led you by arm to see his sister Helaena and her children. You sat down and smiled at the children. Helaena looked at you once you were alone.  "Hot baths." She said. "Hot baths help with the pain." She went back to sowing while you felt yourself blushing. How she knew, you didn't want to know but you hoped nobody else did. 
You and she walked around the red keep taking the children for a walk. You heard grunting. You looked down into the courtyard and saw your husband and Ser Cole practising with swords. His grunts and breathlessness taking you back to this morning. Almost like he could feel your presence he looked up. He grinned knowing your thoughts. 
He told you, you'd end up married.
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