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#I do not in fact know ever when things are getting published. what is time.
essektheylyss · 1 year
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I presume that if you follow me you probably like D&D-esque storytelling, amoral mages, and also treason, and if so you are in luck!
I wrote probably the most on brand piece for a very cool publication called Ballads of the Distant Reaches, in which all of the stories take place in (and build the lore of) the same fantasy world. Mine is the story of a former magical arms dealer turned priest of chaos on trial for treason following a siege of the capital by his former collaborator. (Like I said, very on brand.) I got to write some absolute bastards in some absolute shit situations, and also a very fun description of a realm of chaos. Check it out!
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bangtanshelves · 2 months
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JJK Fanfic Recos
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Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.
I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.
I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.
I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe
💓 - Fluff ❤‍🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
My Love is Here - @/solemnreads
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."
Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi
Completed ✅
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?
Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
Close to you - @/muniimyg
Completed ✅ ⭐
genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.
Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.
Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤‍🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut)  you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.
Mutual Help - @/personasintro
Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say)  in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
Way Back Home - @/solemnreads
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."
Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
The Right Choice - @/honeytae
Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.
Rainy Days - @/rklve
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet
SOJU - @/hoseoksluna
Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.
Lost & Found - @/kooktrash
Genre: ❤‍🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.
Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤‍🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...
Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.
Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?
I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣
Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.
How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣
Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
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feninina · 8 months
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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷
therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓
𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁
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It was awkward, to say the least.
You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.
This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.
He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.
Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.
And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.
"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"
Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.
You were landing right in the palm of his hand.
Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.
Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.
You have everything. That was bullshit.
Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.
You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.
It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.
And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.
Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.
It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.
Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.
But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.
You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.
Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.
So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.
It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.
He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.
After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.
One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.
"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"
You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.
You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.
"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"
You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.
That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.
He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.
After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.
You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.
It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.
After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.
You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.
It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.
But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.
You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.
At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.
He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.
"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".
You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.
You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.
Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.
Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.
"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"
He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.
He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.
"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"
The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.
But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.
"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"
That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.
"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"
He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.
You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.
He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.
"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.
It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"
You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.
Bingo.
"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"
It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.
Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.
"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"
Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.
"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"
You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.
A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.
"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.
Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.
"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"
"To be fucked stupid"
It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.
A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.
"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"
He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.
But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.
It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.
His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.
But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.
You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.
“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”
You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.
“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”
You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.
“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”
And maybe he was.
Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.
Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.
You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.
“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.
You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.
He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.
“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”
“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”
You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.
“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.
Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.
He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.
You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.
He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.
“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.
“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”
You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.
“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”
You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.
With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.
“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”
A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.
“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.
You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.
You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.
“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”
He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.
“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”
You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.
Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.
“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”
Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.
“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”
“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.
You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.
“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.
It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.
“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.
You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.
The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.
He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.
But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.
He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.
“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.
You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.
“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”
You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.
“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”
“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?
“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”
You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”
“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”
His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.
But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.
He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.
He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.
“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”
You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.
“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.
In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.
You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.
“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”
“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”
He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.
Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.
“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.
“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”
You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.
“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”
“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”
Then you realized it.
When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.
That was your cure.
His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.
You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.
He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.
He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.
When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.
“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”
You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.
When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.
You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.
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thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)
taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist
if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife
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Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.
Warnings: injury, language, pregnancy, really angry hot Nanami, not 100% proofread as I have to get going now and won't be able to publish this today otherwise
Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @wifenanami @arehzhera @mysuperrainbow @nanami-s-sunshine @nervoussongcherryblossom
You.
His heart almost beats out of his chest just thinking about the things these creatures are able to do. You live here, at Shibuya. When Nanami received the call about what is going on here, he instructed you to stay home with all doors closed. After all, you are heavy pregnant with his child. Despite being a great jujutsu sorcerer, you shouldn’t be on the streets right now. No harm should ever come to you.
But right now, you aren’t replying to any messages your husband sends you, not a single sign of life.
He yanks the blonde-haired man up by his ponytails, on the brick of losing his temper completely. Not only did this thing kill countless of his comrades on its way, but maybe him and his comrades did something to you. Why would you not reply to his countless messages? If they hurt a single hair on your precious body…
Nanami slams him into a nearby building with full force. Despite the abilities of that man, he won’t be able to survive that.
“Did you receive any sign from (y/n)?”, Nanami questions towards the two girls, kneeling in front of Nitta to inspect her wounds.
They might look bad, but she’ll survive if she sees Shoko within the next hours.
“No. No sign at all”, Nitta mumbles.
Everyone knows about the value you hold for Kento Nanami. No wonder, after all you are his precious wife, the only human being on this earth who is able to make his features soften and steal a smile from him. Yes, you are truly special to him. And the fact that you are not replying…Nobara swallows, the look on his face sending shivers down her spine. You should have been evacuated, out of Shibuya, maybe staying at Jujutsu High as long as the fight goes on. But it was already too late, it would be way too dangerous to leave now.
“What is going on?”, he mutters to himself.
“I’m sure your wife is fine. She’s tough, someone like that loser wouldn’t be able to bring her down.”
His eyes dart towards Nobara. Yes, she’s right. You have to home. Maybe you just fell asleep. The pregnancy made you tired all the time. Probably you’re laying on the couch, the chaos around you completely unnoticed. Yes, that’s how it must be.
“I am sure he wasn’t alone. Maybe someone found one of his accomplices. It’s best we bring them down before they cause more trouble. ”
Nanami strictly forbid you to go out on the streets. And that’s what you do, laying on the couch with the blanket your precious husband wrapped you in pulled up to the nose. You just woke up from a heavy sleep, lifting yourself up just a bit to look out of the window.
“What is going on down there?” you mutter to yourself.
Please, let Kento be alright. He promised to return to you, that nothing major will happen. Oh, how much you wished you could help. Your hands caress your swollen belly softly. Fighting is no option at the moment, though. All you can do is say here in safety until they successfully exorcised all courses around Shibuya. You sign to yourself, lids already hanging so low that you are on the brick of passing out again. After this nap, you’ll definitely call him.
“Still no sign…”, Nanami mumbles, the only response being your angelic voice which directs him to your mailbox.
“Maybe she’s just sleeping, after all (y/n) is pregnant, right? Would you like to call someone to look after her? Your shared apartment is only two blocks away, right?”, Nitta suggests.
“I can look after her!” Nobara interjects immediately.
“No, that wouldn’t be wise. We still have to look after the other assistance directors. There’s no way he worked alone. When the area is safe, I will go and look after her myself”, Nanami responses before putting his phone back.
You always sleep around this time. Surely everything is alright. After all, no one knows where he lives…right?
Haruta smiles to himself, body not moving an inch before the steps of his three opponents are gone.
“Your pregnant wife, huh? So killing her counts as a double kill, how exciting!”
-at your apartment-
Your eyes snap open immediately. The energy around you completely changed. What you feel here…Your whole body is tense, hands clenched into fists. That’s cursed energy, without any doubt.
As fast as possible you lift yourself off the couch, grabbing your throwing knives placed underneath the couch. When Kento got the call, you knew this has to be something big, that you might not be safe at Shibuya anymore.
“I know how much I’m asking from you, but please stay here and lock the door. At this point it would be even more dangerous to leave. Promise that you’ll be careful, sweetheart.”
Your husband wrapped his arms tightly around you, careful not to squeeze your sensitive belly in the process.
“I know my limits, Kento. I would never risk the life of our child for a fight. As much as I’d love to help you out, I will stay here until you tell me it’s over”, you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before he left your apartment with one last loving look back.
Kento. You should give him a call, at least message him about what you feel. As fast as possible you type his number, eyes darted towards the entrance. There isn’t much time left, whatever is on its way here will soon arrive.
“(y/n), I was dead worried about you. Are you alright?”
“Someone’s here. Someone with heavy cursed energy, Kento. I will do what I can, but-“
“Did you really think a locked door would be enough to keep your enemies out of here? Oh, look at you, congrats for putting a baby inside you! That was that blonde-haired man, wasn’t it? Y’know, I’m here because of him, so better be thankful. Come on, don’t look at me like that, let me give you a hug.”
Instinctively, you let your phone fall to the ground, your throwing knives leaving your fingertips at horrendous speed. As fast as possible you seek shelter behind your couch, escaping his blade just in time before he’s able to pierce through your shoulder.
Normally, you would have been able to dodge his attack easily, but with that heavy belly of yours, every sudden movement feels like a burden. You depend on your husband’s help, that’s for sure. The man with the blonde ponytail and ruptured face might not be an impossible strong opponent, but you are restricted. And one single hit might not only mean that he hurts you, but also your unborn baby…
You furrow your brows, eyes busy analysing his moves.
“You know who’s responsible for how wrecked up my face looks? Your husband! He even pulled my hair”, the man in front of you cries out, sword just about to hit you when you escape his force just in time.
“I get it, you have a really kickable face after all”, you press out, grabbing your katana under the kitchen table to dodge his attack.
You huff heavily, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst every minute while you taste blood on your tongue. Fuck, this is more strenuous than expected. Your baby kicks you uncomfortably in your guts, making you see stars for a second. A second in which he is able to place another hit, a second in which he is able to brush over your forehead with enough force to make your skin burst.
All you see is red, blood taking your sight almost completely. With a swift motion you try to wipe it away, try to get a hold of yourself. But before you are even able to breathe again, he forces his blade against yours.
“He’s already on his way, I would shit my pants if I was you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, jumping onto the table in order to have the higher ground.
You feel so damn tired. The heavy weight on your belly, the fact that you have to pee again and that you haven’t trained in ages. You aren’t dumb, you are very aware of the fact that you are fucked right now. But you know Kento heard you, that he is already on his way. You just have to fight back a little while longer…
“Oh, don’t worry about me”, he casually replies.
You stare at his empty hands, eyes wide open in horror. Where the hell did his sword go? Did he lose it while the both of you were fighting? No, you didn’t hit him so hard, this can’t be. But where-
A toe-curling scream escapes your lips when a scorching pain runs through your left thigh. You don’t dare to look don’t, this just has to be his blade.
“How?” you breathe out.
Calm your breathing, calm your pounding heart. You have to keep going, you have to-
Suddenly your shoulder bursts open, blood spilling over your husband’s shirt. You can’t breathe, whole body on fire. His sword, it’s still stuck in your shoulder. Just when it’s about to move out again, you grab the blade with your naked hands to stop it from piercing through you again, your sharp and fast breaths hanging in the air.
“Come on, why stop now when it’s getting funny? I was aiming for your fat belly next”, the guy in front of you complains with a pout.
Blood rushes through your ears, glossy eyes fixated on him in front of you.
“But fine, if you want it that way, I will use my own hands.”
Fuck, what are you supposed to do? If you let go of the sword that cuts through your palms, he will stab your unborn child. But if you lay here and do nothing, he will punch your belly with full force. You have to make a decision, you have to save your unborn child, the child you and Kento awaited for years now. The look on his face when he found out, the tears of joy that pooled his eyes…
You can’t die here. And so does your child.
With the last force you have left in your body, you kick his chest while still holding onto his sword tightly. Fuck, every movement hurts like hell, your blood spilled on the carpet you bought a few weeks ago. You can’t do this any longer, you need to get out of here, you-
“You have some nerves.”
His sheer presence is enough to make the man in front of you stop in his tracks.
“Kento…”, you mumble, wave of relief washing over you.
He’s here, your knight in shining armour, your loving husband. You did it. You held on just long enough.
“Didn’t you learn your lesson by now. Didn’t I teach you what you get for the things you do?”
His whole body is tense, the muscles underneath his shirt to tight that they might burst every minute. Kento grabs the neck of the man who attacked you earlier with full force, dragging him across the room.
“Give up and die already”, Kento hisses.
Tears start to pool this man’s eyes, staring at your husband with wide eyes while he throws him through the bursting window, down onto the streets of Shibuya, over 10 floors.
Without hesitation he hurries to your side, hand gently cupping your cheek. The threatful man from only seconds ago is gone in the wind. What is left is your loving husband who caresses your belly softly, lines of worry decorating his face while scanning over your bloody body.
“Don’t worry, this is nothing Shoko can’t fix. The…the baby is fine…”, you huff out.
“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I thought he was dead already, never did I imagine that…”
“Don’t think about it too much, Kento. This is in no way your fault. The most important thing is that the baby is fine. That’s all that matters.”
“But you matter too, (y/n). You are the love of my life. When you called me and I heard his voice, a part of me died. That he was able to injure you, that he put his hands on your delicate skin…I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much…”
Carefully, he wraps his arms around you and lifts your trembling figure off the ground.
“I love you too. But you have to admit I did pretty well”, you mutter against his chest.
“You definitely did. You are my wife, after all”, Kento replies with a small smile, carrying you to Shoko.
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tkingfisher · 1 year
Note
So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?
How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?
Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3
*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.
But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.
Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.
Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.
Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)
There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.
In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)
Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.
This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?
Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)
For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.
You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.
(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)
Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.
At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.
(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)
So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.
Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.
(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)
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ellecdc · 1 month
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I'm sick rn so I wanted to know if you could do a little comfort fic of moonwater taking care of sick reader or something pls :)
awe so sorry you're unwell babes! hope you feel better soon <33
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has the flu
Another shiver shook your frame even from your place burrowed deep beneath the thick duvet in your spare bedroom.
You’d woken up a little late this morning; Regulus needed to be in the office early for a meeting, and Remus had a meeting with his publisher, meaning you had been on your own. You felt awful, but ultimately hoped that as the day had continued, you might perk up a bit.
You did not perk up. In fact, you ended up spending so much time in the bathroom that your boss actually suggested you go home for the rest of the day.
Too poorly to feel as embarrassed as you probably ought to, you readily accepted and returned to yours, Regulus’, and Remus’ shared flat.
It took nearly all your effort to change out of your work clothes, change the bedding in your shared bedroom so that the boys wouldn’t have to sleep in your germs, and set yourself up in the guest room with a bucket just in case.
You’d slept on and off quite fitfully, waking up with a start when your fever induced brain concocted the most ridiculous nightmares to alert you to your sweaty and discomfited state. 
You were so poorly that you hadn’t even realized anyone was home until Regulus was standing in front of you like a creepy vampire watching you sleep.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Regulus.” You muttered, slapping your hand to your own chest as you tried catching your breath, which caused a small coughing fit.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Your boyfriend asked incredulously.
You groaned as you rolled back onto your side to face him.
“Hello, Regulus. It’s nice to see you.” You deadpanned.
Regulus huffed and dropped his briefcase.
“Hello, amour.” He deadpanned in return. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked again as he gently sat on the edge of the bed to place the back of his hand to your forehead, grimacing in response to your sweat or your fever, you weren’t sure. 
“I’m sick.”
Regulus made a pathetic cooing sound that was so contrary to his sharp demeanour made all the more severe in his smart work attire, it was almost comical. 
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You huffed at that. “So, what? So, you could come home and watch me barely sleep? I was fine.”
“Fine.” Regulus scoffed. “You don’t look fine, amour.”
“Words hurt, Reg.” You groaned as the pain behind your eyes grew.
Regulus made another cooing sound and stood.
You thought perhaps he was getting up to change or whatnot but opened your eyes to see him with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Regulus, what are you doing?” You demanded with all the sternness you could muster, which was not much at all in your current state.
“That’s enough out of you.” He muttered quietly as he brought his phone back to his ear.
“Hi love, how are you?” He spoke over your attempted rebuttal.
You could hear your other boyfriends’ low tones responding to Regulus from the other end of the line.
“Good. It went well, thank you. I just got home actually, Y/N’s already here; she’s quite poorly.”
Though you still couldn’t make out the words, Remus’ voice picked up in volume. 
“No, she didn’t tell me either.” Regulus commented, sending you a pointed glare.  
“Okay, yeah. Alright, we’ll see you soon. Yeah, love you too. Bye.” 
You groaned petulantly. “Why’d you do that? He doesn’t have to come home for me.”
“Maybe he’s coming home for me; ever consider that?” He snarked back, pushing some of your sweaty hairs away from your head to press a kiss to your head.
“You’re a furnace, amour. Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t taken any medication?”
He got his answer in the form of a guilty expression.
“Tu vas être ma mort. Tu as de la chance d'être si mignon.” He muttered as he left the room to change and gather some things for your flu. 
You came back into consciousness to the sound of Remus and Regulus speaking gently.
“I hate to wake her up, but she really should take something.”
“Has she eaten, though? She shouldn’t take anything on an empty stomach.”
“If that bucket is any indication, I doubt there’s anything in her stomach at all.”
“Can you guys go do your worrying elsewhere, please? I’m trying to die in peace.” You groaned, caused Remus to gasp and Regulus to scoff.
“Dovey! Oh, my poor girl. What happened? Are you okay?” Remus cooed, kneeling on the floor in front of you to start petting at your head.
“I’m okay.” You croaked.
“You’re a liar.” He responded; words pointed but expression loving.
“Do you think you can eat, amour?” Regulus interrupted. 
“I don’t want to.” You moaned.
“That’s not what I asked, love.”
Remus tsked at Regulus’ coldness and took your face in his hands.
“Dove, can you try? Please? For me.”
You groaned very petulantly but began sitting yourself upright nonetheless. 
You allowed Remus to position your pillows and arrange the tray Regulus had prepared for you on your lap, but you drew the line at him trying to spoon feed you the stew.  
“Did you wake up this poorly?” Regulus asked from the end of your bed.
“Sort of, but it got worse at work.”
The air was sucked out of the room as both men turned to look at you incredulously.
“You went to work?!” Regulus gawked.
“Why, dove?”
“Ma MORT, je le jure!” Regulus groaned exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you call us to pick you up?”
“And you took the time to change the bedding and move out of our room when you were like this?” Remus added.
You were beginning to feel embarrassingly teary as you put your spoon down and pushed the tray away from you.
“I didn’t want you guys to get catch this. I just... I was fine.” You sniffled and wiped at your eyes as the first tear fell.
Remus tsked again and rested his forehead against your temple, and you realized then how much cooler his forehead felt against yours. 
“Okay.” Regulus said quietly, picking up the tray from your lap and placing it on the dresser. “Can you take these for me, love? Fever reducers and anti-nausea for now; we’ll see how you feel in a few hours.”
He held the pills out to you in his palm and held a glass of water in the other. You hiccupped and sniffled before accepting both, handing him back the glass half full once you were done.
“Thank you.” Regulus whispered gently, kissing your forehead and bringing your tray to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry we scolded you, dovey.” Remus whispered into your cheek, causing new tears to fall. “We just worry; you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” You whimpered, and even you could tell it was sort of pathetic.
“Oh, my poor darling.” Remus cooed, standing from your side to climb in on the opposite side of the bed. 
“Don’t, Rem. I don’t want you to get sick.” You whined, though allowed your body to be pulled into his side.
“Tough.” He said simply, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll just get to call in sick too.”
You were sure the tears were mostly from exhaustion and discomfort, but you couldn’t seem to get them to stop.
“What’s the matter, hm?”
“I don’t feel good.” You whined.
“I know, babydove. I’m sorry.”
That’s how Regulus found you when he came back to the room; you crying into Remus’ shirt as he rubbed broad strokes up and down your back.
“Rem, we’re trying to bring her temperature down, love.” He admonished gently, though sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his own soothing strokes on your clammy arm. 
“You try denying this sweet girl her cuddles, Reg.” Remus responded.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before placing a cold wet cloth on your head. 
“I’m sorry you’re so poorly, amour. And I’m sorry if we made it worse.” He apologized. 
You quickly shook your head (which you immediately regretted as the nausea threatened to return). “You didn’t; you don’t.”
“I upset you though, I’m sorry. I’m too rough sometimes.” Regulus admitted, sounding almost as teary as you. Remus tsked and reached one of his hands over you to take Regulus’ hand.
“I know what you’re thinking, love, and you’re wrong.” Remus insisted. “And I know you’re wrong, because your parents wouldn’t have fussed over you at all when you were sick; so there’s no way you could be acting like them right now.”
The fact that Regulus had spent any amount of time worrying that he’d been too harsh with you, that he’d been at all like his awful parents caused your few tears to turn into true crying.
“I’m sorry Reggie.” You cried, turning to look at him. His brows furrowed dramatically, and he looked just as close to crying. “If you weren’t here; I’d be sitting in bed with no food, no medicine, no cloths, and no love.”
“Well, you maybe would have had some love.” Remus argued from your other side.
“I would’ve died.” You insisted.
One tear did fall from Regulus’ eye as he smiled sadly at you. “I just hate to see you so poorly, amour. You should always be happy and lovely.”
“I am. I’m better when you’re here.” You insisted.
“How dare you insinuate that our sweet darling girl could ever possibly be not lovely, Regulus. Absolute blasphemy.” Remus scolded, causing both you and Regulus to chuckle. 
“Terribly sorry, you two. I seem to have forgotten myself.” He laughed, turning the cloth over on your head and trailing his fingers down your jaw to massage at your neck. 
“Don’t let it happen again.” Remus instructed.
You fell asleep to the sound of Regulus promising that he wouldn’t. 
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arielleslipgloss · 2 months
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How to Stop People Pleasing!!
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(none of these photos are mine)
“I don’t like studying. I hate studying. I like learning. Learning is beautiful.” - Natalie Portman
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Give it to yourself!! Why should you try to make others like you? You don’t even like other people. In fact, do you even like yourself? The person who is with you every second, do you like them? You keep abandoning yourself, yet you don’t even notice. All that attention you wish and crave for is right in the mirror. That attention you seek, you can give to yourself. All that pleasing, do it for yourself. You did good on a quiz? Tell yourself you’re proud of your accomplishment. You went out on a solo date? Tell yourself that you deserved that fun alone time. Give that love to YOURSELF, because you deserve it. All that pleasing should be used to please yourself!!
2. Stop over apologizing!! Start saying thank you instead. Someone listened to your rant and you want to say sorry? Don’t, just say “thank you for taking the time to listen.” If you ever think of apologizing, take a step back. Then, think of how you could thank that person. Expressing your gratitude to a person is an incredible healthy habit. Of course, when appropriate saying sorry is necessary though. Just try to think before you say sorry. Instead of immediately saying sorry, ask yourself “is it appropriate to say sorry?” You could even ask yourself “does this situation best fit a sorry or thank you?”
3. Embrace and grow from rejection!! Rejection happens to everyone. Every single person has went through it. Whether it’s a small or big rejection. It’s a normal thing that happens to all humans. A lot of rejections even result in life lessons. It can also help us learn and move forward. I promise, being afraid of rejection is perfectly normal. Now, how can you embrace it? Well, start thinking getting rejected is a gate to better opportunities. I mean, so many celebrities have been rejected. They have experienced it in relationships, publishing books, auditions, castings, etc. Despite of that, they are still famous and they’re still doing great! They still get many of better relationships, brand deals, movies to be in, etc. Overall, better opportunities come to them later. That means the same will happen to you! You just have to trust the process and believe. Believe not only in getting better opportunities, but in yourself.
4. Say no when necessary!! This means you need to have boundaries. You have to be able to say no. If you can’t say no you will be stuck in so many uncomfortable situations. Now, I promise that saying no is not rude. It’s actually a sign of self respect, which is amazing. However, how do we know when saying, no is necessary? For starters, think of the situation you’re in. Then, ask yourself “am I uncomfortable and in need of saying no?” If you are uncomfortable with whatever say no. You are not obligated to say yes to every single thing. You’re the one in charge of your life. So, take some action when needed and say no. Never ever, let people change your mind or peer pressure you.
5. The image you made…?!? Lastly, let’s discuss and transform this image you’ve made. Take a deep breath, because that image has gotta go. If you are constantly thinking of if this person and that person will like what you do? Then, knock it off and start doing what you wanna do. This is about to seem cliche, but life is too short. You need to stop and take a second to think about yourself. Do what you want to do. Do what makes you happy. Not what makes others like you more. Learn to be your true authentic self. If your true self is shy, extroverted, cold, bubbly, etc. Whatever it is, be yourself and if others don’t like it. So what? They are just projecting their insecurities on you. Learn not to take people’s opinions personally.
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” - Dr. Seuss
Love you so much dolls!! Remember to keep your head high and stay pretty 💋🎀
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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months
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✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 || nico hischier ♔
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summary: y/n suprises her kids with her brothers and her boyfriend and it makes nico realize he has to do something and do it soon
warnings: emma writing fluff
publish date: 02/18/24
notes: i thought this was longer because it was an 11 page document but i realized it's mostly just dialogue, so I'm sorry that it's kind of underwhelming. i can't believe i decided to write fluff tonight but i had to write nico because of all the content we got so... also the last part is for cam, because we have been talking about it | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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It wasn’t the first time the kids had talked about hockey, in fact, it was probably like the millionth time they’ve talked about hockey. She didn’t even know this many kids were a fan of the Devils, but low and behold, of course she could get a class full of hockey fans. On ‘Meet the Teacher’ night, she was pretty sure every kid had asked her if she was related to the Hughes brothers.
For the first day of school, she introduced herself, “Hi everyone! My name is Miss. Hughes and I’m so excited to teach you guys this year!”
“Miss. Hughes?” A hand popped up immediately after words and she looked over, “Yes?”
“Do you know Jack and Luke Hughes?”
She smiled, “I might, why?”
“Because they are so cool!” All the other kids agreed.
“Are you guys Devils fans?”
They all nodded excitedly, smiles plastered on their faces. She then looked at them seriously, “Do you guys think you can keep a secret?”
They all nodded again, “Jack and Luke are my brothers.”
“No way!” The kids all let out gasps, almost starstruck by her words.
She nodded, “Oh yeah. You guys want proof?”
She pulled up a photo of her, Jack, Quinn, and Luke, showing it to the kids, “This is us from this past summer.”
“Are they older than you?”
“Just Quinn, I’m older than Jack and Luke.”
“I have a younger brother too!”
“I have a sister!”
“My brother’s older than me!”
“That is so cool, you guys! How about at the end of the day you can ask me anything you want about hockey or my brothers, but for right now we need to learn about some classroom rules and other things. I might even have an activity for you to do.”
Ever since then, the kids loved to ask her questions about it no matter what. If they were supposed to be working on counting their numbers, they would ask her about them, if they were supposed to be learning about planets, they asked her about hockey, if they were supposed to be working on spelling, they asked her about the game last night.
She had adjusted some things to incorporate hockey and the Devils while learning. She would give them bonus spelling quizzes about hockey teams, she would use their numbers to help them add or subtract, she would use the teams as help for colors. Sometimes she even gets them to start learning a bit of geography and memorizing where each team is from.
Then she was begged to keep track of every game they lost and won. So each month she would set out a little portion of the whiteboard and write out the schedule, writing a ‘w’ or a ‘l’ next to it the following day or on Monday.
Come, January, the kids were super excited when they found out Quinn and Jack were going to the all-star game. It was all they were able to talk about. And after that, she decided she wanted to do something special for them. They had never even thought of the idea and she was glad that they didn’t. It took a lot of sweet talk from her to get all of the boys agree, and when they did she gave them hugs, practically squeezing them to death. She also was planning on a bonus surprise, knowing how much they would love it.
It was the week of the All-Star break, Quinn had flown to Jersey yesterday. She had decided to cut out the science portion of their day because the kids hated science, it was their least favorite thing ever. So she got the kids to sit in a circle on the carpet. The boys were standing outside the classroom listening to everything that she said, “Okay, you guys have been so good lately and I wanted to give you guys a surprise.”
Excited giggles and small screams echoed through the classroom and the boys outside started laughing a little. SHe shook her head and sat down on her chair, “You guys have to behave okay, because no other class is getting a surprise. You promise?”
They all nodded, “Okay, so you guys know how it’s All-Star break this week?”
“Yeah!”
“And you know how on Thursday Quinn and Jack are drafting their team?”
The kids once again said yes, excitedly nodding their heads, “Miss. Hughes?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s the surprise?”
“I’m getting there! Well they were talking about how much they didn’t get to see me and how much they missed me.” All the kids giggled and one girl popped up, “You’re being silly, Miss. Hughes.”
“You’re right, I am. They didn’t say that to me. But I asked them a little while ago if they wanted to hang out and if they wanted to ask me for a favor.”
“What’s a favor?”
“It’s where you ask someone to do something for you.”
“What did you ask them?”
“Do you guys really want to know?”
“Yes!!”
“Okay… I guess I can tell you.” She got up and walked out of the classroom, the kids looking at each other confused and started to whisper.
When she walked back in, Quinn, Jack, and Luke followed her, the kids immediately letting out screams of excitement, “Hey, what did I say about being loud?”
The kids quieted down a little but still were bouncing with excitement, all of them repeatedly saying their names over and over again. Y/n got the kids to settle down and told the three of them to sit in their seats, “Okay you guys. Do you know who these people are?”
One boy raised his hand, practically begging her to call on him, “Yes Liam?”
“They’re your brothers!”
“That’s right. Do you know their names?”
“Luke, Quinn, and Jack!”
“Do you guys have any questions for them?”
For the next ten minutes they answered questions until one of the kids softly called out her name. She got up and walked over to her, kneeling down to be at her height, “What’s up, kiddo?”
“Why is there an extra chair?”
“Oh that’s a good question. Should we let everyone else know the question, because I might have an exciting answer.”
She nodded and y/n sat down next to her, having everyone stop speaking, “Okay guys. Belle has a question.”
“Why is there an extra chair?”
“Well that’s because I have another surprise for you!”
“Another surprise?”
“Yeah, you guys wanna know?”
They all nodded, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Alright. Neeks, come on in!”
Nico walked in at the sound of his name and y.n could’ve sworn that the kids were more excited to see him then her brothers. A lot of them ran up and gave him a hug, y/n laughing a little bit at the interaction. She watched in awe as she watched her boyfriend interact with the kids, her heart warming a little bit. Belle, the girl who had asked her the question initially, turned around from where she stood and asked loudly, “Miss. Hughes, is he your boyfriend?”
All the kids looked at her expectantly and she blushed, “Yes. He is.”
All of them gasped in excitement, “No way! That’s soooo cool!”
She laughed at their comments and allowed them to continue asking questions to the four of them. When twenty more minutes had passed and it was time for them to go to lunch she had them sit back down on the carpet, “Now what do we say to Quinn, Luke, Nico, and Jack for coming?”
“Thank you!”
The four laughed and said ‘your welcome’ in unison. As another surprise, they all gave them a puck with their signatures on them. The kids gushed about it on their way to lunch and until the rest of the day. She was able to have lunch with the four of them in her classroom, eating whatever food they had bought for her.
THe joy on their faces was something she would never be able to reciprocate even if she tried, it made tears spring in her eyes, “Thank you guys for coming. It really means a lot.”
They all smiled at her, Quinn wrapping her in a hug, “It was really no problem, y/n/n.”
“Yeah, I know but it’s your guys’ all-star break and I know that you two have to be in Toronto soon. And Luke and Neeks probably want a day off.”
All four of them shook their heads, Nico coming to sit next to her, “If we wanted a day off, we would’ve said no schatzi.”
She nodded, still unable to control the few tears that formed in her eyes. She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached for his hand, “They literally never shut up about you guys.”
It was silent for a moment before a little voice startled them from the entryway, “Miss. Hughes?”
She jumped and wiped the tears from her eyes, “Hi, Victoria. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She got up and walked over to her, hearing her sniffle, “I’m not feeling good.”
“Did you go to the nurse, honey?”
She nodded back at her, “She told me that I was going home.”
“Okay, you want me to help you pack up your things?”
She nodded again, going to grab her folder from her cubby. Meanwhile, Nico was watching her with complete adortion in his eyes. Quinn noticed this and moved over to sit next to him, “You want kids with her don’t you?”
Nico looked at him with wide eyes, “What?”
“You want kids with her. It’s kind of obvious, dude.”
He nodded, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, we’re still kind of young.”
Quinn smiled, “Yeah, but when you know you know, man. She loves you, though. I know she does.”
Nico looked at him with a small grin, “You know, she didn’t even want me to come today. She said that the kids would be happy with just you guys and that she didn’t want to ruin my break.”
“That sounds like her.”
“When I told her I was coming no matter what she said I was pretty sure she was going to cry.”
“Trust me, Nico. Y/n could never go a day without you no matter how much she tries to deny it. One day when you guys had this little fight, it must’ve been when you guys just started dating, she called me crying and told me she wanted to marry you.”
“She did?”
“Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this happy.”
Victoria was finishing up putting the last thing in her bag and she looked at her teacher, “Mr. Hischier looking at you.”
“Oh he is?” She looked over her shoulder and saw him looking directly at her. Both of them blushed when their eyes locked and looked away, “He was wasn’t he?”
She nodded and smiled, “Miss. Hughes?”
“Yeah?”
“I think he loves you.”
“You think?”
“Yes! And I think you two are going to get married.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Okay, bye Miss. Hughes!”
“Bye, honey. Feel better!”
✧༺✎༻∞
Later that night, Nico laid in bed with y/n, arms wrapped around her tightly as they looked at each other. Y/n lightly traced his tattoo, sending shivers through him. It had been a quiet night, the two had eaten dinner and watched a movie. It was comfortable between them, no words had to be said. Both of them, however, were thinking the same thing, back to earlier. Quinn and Victoria’s words had an impact on the respective two, both of them coming to the same conclusion of wanting to marry the other. 
Nico looked up at her through his eyelashes, she was looking down at his arms as she ran her finger over the ink. He smiled and couldn’t help himself, “Do you wanna marry me?”
She paused, her finger stopping and her mouth opening just a little in shock. She looked up at him, “What?”
“Do you wanna get married?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. 100 percent.” He got up and walked over to his bag that sat at the foot of the bed, reaching in and grabbing something out, “You always told me you hated the way my bag smelled and that you wouldn't even take a step near it.”
She giggled a little, sitting up so her back was against the headboard. He walked back to the bed, sitting down by her legs, “I bought this for you a couple of months ago. It was the beginning of the season and I had just gotten back from a game. You were telling me about your day and how the kids wouldn’t stop talking about the teams win the previous night. I saw the way your face lit up when you talked about them and the game. You were so excited that they were interested in hockey. I don’t know. There was just something about the moment that made me realize that I needed to buy a ring for you. I always knew I wanted to marry you but I guess that moment just solidified it for me.”
He took a deep breath and risked a glance at her, she had tears in her eyes again, “Don’t cry, schatzi.” He held her hand before continuing, “Jack and Luke came with me the next day while you were at school. They kept pointing out random rings but none of them seemed right. The three of us were just about to give up and then I saw this one and I thought it was perfect.”
He opened the box and showed her, causing her to gasp in awe, “Oh my god, Neeks.”
“I love you, y/n and I want to be with you forever. I want to grow old with you and I want to have kids with you. I want to do it all with you.”
She nodded her head, almost screaming as she said yes. She launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
A couple of moments passed, both of them basking in the moment, “Victoria told me we were going to get married. When she came back in during lunch earlier.”
“Oh she did?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s funny, Quinn was telling me about how much you wanted to marry me earlier too.”
“He did?” A blush rose to her cheeks, “Yeah. He said that you called him after one of our small fights one day and you cried to him, saying that you wanted to marry me.”
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing.” Her head fell into his chest and he laughed, moving his hand to run through her hair.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it's adorable.”
She shook her head and looked up at him, “I love you, Nico Hischier.”
“And I love you, y/n Hughes.”
✧༺✎༻∞
The next day, y/n showed up to work and immediately thought about how she was going to tell her kids. When Victoria walked in she knew what she had to do. They went through their whole routine, no one suspecting a thing. At the end of the day, she beckoned Victoria over and she skipped to her, “Yes, Miss. Hughes.”
“You know how you told me that Mr. Hishcier and I were going to get married?”
She nodded confidently, “Yep!”
“Well can I tell you a secret?”
“Yeah!”
“He asked me to marry him last night.”
Victoria gasped excitedly, a smile gracing her lips, “Can I see the ring?”
Y/n nodded, grabbing the ring from her pocket, “It’s so pretty!”
“You wanna do me a big favor?”
“That’s when someone asks you to do something for them right?”
“Yep. You wanna tell everyone?”
She nodded excitedly, “Yeah!”
“Alright go on.”
“Hey guys! Mr. Hsichier and Miss. Hughes are getting married!”
All the kids ran around getting a huge rush of energy. They all came up to y/n and started asking her questions, “When are you getting married?”
“Sometime during the summer. Maybe next year?”
“But you hate the summer!”
“Yeah I know, but Mr. Hischier has to work during hockey season, remember? He plays from October to April every year. So I have to make a sacrifice.”
“What’s a sacrifice?”
“When you give up something for something else.”
“I’m so happy for you, Miss. Hughes.”
“Don’t you mean, Mrs. Hischier?!”
Y/n laughed and made them pack up to go home. When she got back to her and Nico’s apartment, she smiled when she saw him making a pre-dinner snack. She wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, “Hi Neeks.”
“Hi schatzi, how was your day?”
“Good. Told the kids what you asked me last night.” He turned around in her arms and smiled down at her, “Yeah?”
She rested her head on his chest, “Mhm. They were really excited.”
He wrapped his arms around her, “I’m not surprised.”
“I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“Me neither. But I’m so excited.”
“Me too. I love you.”
“I love you.”
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𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you
@jasminecaskry85 | @lilyevanswhore | @shoesjr13 | @Exonct07 | @dancerbailey3 | @if-my-heart-bleeds | @prettyinsatiable | @hearts-4-luke | @sarawinson78 | @pucks-goals-penalties | @elegieseulogise | @crazycat-ladys-blog | @privatemythss | @5secondsofonedirection222 | @piavettel33 | @bohemianrapshawty | @mikayladavis | @klkennedy | @hockeyboysarehot | @whoopwhoop123 | @dasiysthings | @rleigh-47 | @ivy-34 | @itsnotgray | @daisysnhl | @love4ldr | @love4lando | @dyslecticdutchman | @thescooby-gang | @biscuit-muffin05 | @toasttt11 | @fratboyharrysgf0201 | @http-aatp | @biggiesmallspots | @kei943 | @Studio_reader | @ru-kru | @zebraszegras | @sleepybesson | @lausdigitaldiary | @eleutherafairy | @hockeygirl101 | @fearfam69691 | @skoolnites | @bunting58 | @francesfarhadi | @fallinallincurls | @valluvsu | @cixrosie | @absolutelyhugh3s | @livelovefanfics | @love-like-woaah
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509 notes · View notes
rin-fukuroi · 4 months
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐞? [𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦]
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
The originals of my works can be read here
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Pairings: older brother!Alhaitham x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, incest, loss of virginity, size kink, cockwarming, creampie.
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Tommee Profitt feat. Jung Youth - Who's Gonna Stop Me
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq
Just let me be reborn as the younger sister of this divine man (っ˘ω˘ς )
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art: @eriimyon
You've never even thought about the fact that girls your age should be interested in guys. Every time you heard your friends enthusiastically discussing the looks of your classmates, you felt so far away from it. Your gaze has never clung to men passing by, and your heart has never even been touched by sympathy for anyone. That's how it was until it came to your brother.
«Your brother is so sexy! Does he have a girlfriend?»
Is it true? Perhaps… the only man you've ever looked at has always been him. Since childhood, you have secretly admired the success of your older brother, not missing the opportunity to ask him to pull you up in your studies when he had a free minute. It could hardly be said that Alhaitham enjoyed spending time with you when you were a child. This man is too difficult to understand. This stoically indifferent expression on his face, the cold gazes of emerald eyes and a monotonous low voice are what have accompanied you since birth.
As soon as Alhaitham saw tears welling up in your innocent eyes, he instantly silently left your room, before getting a clear answer who made you cry. You didn't know where he went or what he was doing, but any of your problems were solved the very next day, which gave rise to this feeling of unconditional security when you looked at his tall figure and heard these quiet sighs and banal phrases uttered in a quiet indifferent tone only to dismiss your obsessive questions about what suddenly happened to the classmates who bullied you. A certain modesty of your older brother has planted in your heart the belief that, no matter how distant Alhaitham may seem, he cares about you in his own way and will never allow his little sister to cope with difficulties alone, even if you'll hardly ever be able to hear words of support from him.
And now, ten years later, you still look at Alhaitham with unspoken gratitude and adoration, despite the fact that his presence in your life is barely noticeable. You always sneak a peek into your brother's room when he's not at home, carefully examining the few things he left on the table. Everything that belongs to Alhaitham always arouses your genuine interest, although the entire contents of his room, perhaps, can be classified as essential items and mountains of books filling the shelves of tall cabinets. Every time your fingers slide over the numerous book spines, and your eyes memorize several titles in order to secretly read them. Maybe this way you can get closer to him — that's what you always thought.
But still, is your obsession with him really normal? This question has been in your head since the image of Alhaitham began to pop up in your thoughts more often when you were alone with yourself. Loving your older brother is absolutely normal, isn't it? And remembering how you once saw Alhaitham tired after work, throwing off his shirt and exposing his muscular back and broad shoulders in his room while you were passing by the ajar door is also normal. You only had a moment to capture in your memory the elastic muscles of his chest and the V-shaped line of his abs disappearing behind his lowered trousers, but it was more than enough to keep this image in your thoughts for several weeks.
«Your brother is so sexy...»
Is this the real reason why a blush now sticks to your cheeks when your eyes meet Alhaitham's gaze? Is this the reason why you're touching yourself so obscenely for the first time, replaying over and over in your memory what you probably shouldn't have seen? But you comfort yourself with the thought that men often strip to the waist and there is nothing indecent about it. You've already seen him in this form as a child, but why does it bother you so much now and seem so wrong?
You need to stop this.
You've spent hours watching guys your age, trying to awaken those emotions that should torment a girl's heart when looking at admittedly attractive members of the opposite sex, but you don't feel anything. Just boredom.
You've also never heard of Alhaitham having a relationship with anyone. Of course, if you had asked him a question, he would have replied that he is too busy or that he isn't interested, but then what about you? Are you also not interested in relationships, or is there another reason why you can't keep up a conversation with friends who are so immersed in matters of the heart that you don't understand? The answer seemed so close, somewhere on the surface. You only have to stretch out your hand and you'll see what you are trying so desperately not to notice.
Therefore, now you try not to make noise, sneaking back to Alhaitham's door when you hear him enter his room late at night, probably tired after a hard day's work. You need to look at him again, but your heart is so restless every time you even try to imagine how you start a conversation with him. Since when did it become so difficult for you to communicate with your own brother?
You peek cautiously through the half-open door, noticing Alhaitham lounging in an armchair with a book in his hand. His long fingers cling to his black tie, getting rid of the suffocating pressure on his neck in one light practiced movement. His lips are slightly parted as your brother sighs heavily, unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on his slightly rumpled shirt before leaning back in his chair.
Long eyelashes barely touch the skin of Alhaitham's face when he closes his eyes, combing the unruly strands of silver bangs with his palm. He's really handsome, you can't deny that. But you've seen enough men that you could call beautiful, but just looking at Alhaitham causes a thrill in your chest, the nature of which you are so desperate to understand.
— How long are you going to stand in the doorway? If you need anything, come in.
Your eyes widen with fright, and your muscles seem to turn to stone, not allowing you to move from your place, when you hurriedly shift your gaze from Alhaitham's chest slightly peeking out from under the cotton fabric to the emerald irises looking at you with slight irritation.
— I, uh… I'm sorry, I don't need anything! — you almost take off, ready to run back to your room, when you notice Alhaitham getting up from his chair, approaching your confused figure.
It all happened so fast. You didn't even have time to understand anything, as Alhaitham's big hand wrapped around your shoulder, forcing you to go inside, when you heard the slam of the door behind you, to which your back is now pressed. Your brother's free hand presses into the wooden surface, enclosing you between him and the door, while the fingers of his other hand cling to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one by one and exposing the relief of Alhaitham's body right in front of your face.
— Wh-what are you doing?! — you turn away, blunting your gaze to the floor, trying to hide the way your cheeks instantly flushed when the pleasant scent of his perfume hit your nose.
— Huh? Isn't that what you were just looking at?
— I don't…
The words get stuck somewhere deep in your throat when Alhaitham's long fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your hand to his chest. As soon as the pads touch your brother's skin, this aching pain comes back to your lower abdomen. He's so warm. You can feel the muscles tense under your touch, becoming even harder, you can feel his heart beating steadily, as if absolutely nothing unusual is happening right now. Alhaitham is calm, as always, carefully watching your funny reaction from his height. Your hand trembles in his grip, but your fingers lightly press on the elastic flesh, causing embarrassment to tingle the skin of your face even more.
— Do you think I don't notice the way you look at me? I always assumed that my sister was a diligent good girl, but what do I see now? — Alhaitham leans towards your ear, guiding your palm lower over his prominent abs as his hot breath touches your face. — Now you're just as spoiled as all adults.
His words make your stomach churn with fear. The way the pads of your fingers slide over every bump of his tense stomach, the way his lips are close to your face, the way Alhaitham's breathing becomes more ragged when your hand stops on the belt of his trousers, it seems so wrong, but for some reason you just stay silent, letting him do it to you. You can feel the heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach when Alhaitham guides your fingers to his groin. You've never touched anyone… there before. Even through the dense fabric, the warmth emanating from his dick touches your hand, which unconsciously wraps around the hard bulge, causing your heart to pound wildly, pulsating in your ears.
— H-Haitham, stop it, I don't understand what you want… — the volume of your voice drops to a whisper.
It's so damn hard. Your body heats up treacherously, and moisture begins to accumulate between your clenching thighs. You press against the door, trying to escape at least somewhere from the cage in which Alhaitham imprisoned you, but he sees how your legs are shaking and feels your pulse quicken, quietly grinning at how something your body tells him goes against the words that come unsteadily from your tongue.
— I don't remember teaching you to lie. Didn't you spy on me a few weeks ago because you wanted to? And that's what you came for today.
— No! I would never…
— You're too bad at hiding your desires for a girl who knows better than anyone that I'm observant enough. Can't any of your peers meet your needs, huh?
— How do you…
— I know everything I need to know. I even know you're still a virgin, but you still want me to fuck you. But it's reasonable.
— What are you talking about?! Is it okay to want something like this with own brother? — you pull your hand back, ostentatiously clenching your fingers into a fist and pulling away from Alhaitham's face, almost buried in the curve of your neck. Your brother straightens up, towering over you like a heavy shadow, now looking into your eyes, desperately trying not to break eye contact. What do you want to prove to him if your other hand is now nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown, and your teeth are unconsciously biting your lower lip, trying hard to remain calm even when the fabric of your underwear is soaked with warm moisture?
— Yes, — your heart sank in your chest when you heard such a short and clear answer, uttered with a completely serious expression on your brother's face. — There's no one who knows you better than I do. It makes sense that you want your first time to be with me. Objectively, I think girls your age really find me attractive, so that doesn't raise any questions either. I don't understand why you're so puzzled, Y/N, given the fact that, obviously for both of us, you've wanted this for a long time, which means you've had time to weigh all the pros and cons since you came to me today.
His words sound like this… makes sense, but then why do you feel that your desires are so obscene? Is the problem that he's your brother? But Alhaitham is right, you spent almost every day of your life with him, shared your most intimate things with him, even if he wasn't interested, he was always there for you, and what's strange about the fact that you are... in love with him?
— I… I think I'm just confused… I need to be alone and think about this...
— There's no need for that.
The randomly scattered pieces of the puzzle finally came together in a clear picture. You can feel your brother's soft lips pressing against yours, the warmth of his palm sliding up your thigh, making its way under the fabric of your homemade shorts. And it doesn't seem wrong. It's so good. Finally, the warmth that your friends seemed to be talking about spread in your chest. When a loved one touches you, when he presses his lips to yours for the first time. Your body answered all the questions swarming in your head for you as your arms wrapped around Alhaitham's neck, deepening the kiss. So clumsily, but your tongue meets his, more insistently dominating your mouth. What an indescribable feeling.
It's so hot, it's so hard to breathe, but you want more when you pull your brother closer, and his knee settles so vulgarly between your legs, pressing into the heat of your crotch. You wanted to push Alhaitham away so as not to stain his trousers with the moisture that your shorts must have soaked through, but there was nothing you could do with how damn pleasant this friction feels caused by his knee pushing against your writhing body.
Alhaitham's fingertips hook into the waistband of your shorts, hastily sliding the soft fabric down your thighs until it crumples on the floor under your feet. A moan escapes from your chest, muffled by his lips, when you feel your toes lift off the floor, and your back presses harder against the door of your brother's room while he scoops you up in his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. A hard cock presses against your crotch through the fabric separating you from the hot flesh.
It's only when his lips finally leave yours that you realize what's going on. Alhaitham's green eyes seemed to look as clouded as yours. You've never seen him like this before. Although his face still didn't express a single emotion, something had clearly changed. Your brother is looking at you with a desire you've never seen in anyone's eyes. It's so strange, so unusual, but the only thing you know is that you like it. You like to feel desired, you like to feel his dick throbbing with another unobtrusive thrust between your legs spread for him, you like to hold on to Alhaitham's muscular shoulders like this while he hastily unbuttons the belt and zipper of his trousers, then pushing aside the lace fabric of your underwear.
The hot head of the cock slides up your slippery crotch, covering the base with sticky moisture. Even without looking down, you could feel with your own body how impressive Alhaitham's dick is. If it weren't for the intoxicating pleasure caused by the delicious friction of his throbbing erection, you'd probably be terrified even at the thought of him entering you. But there was another good reason for your calmness. You know your brother will never hurt you. Perhaps he was right again, as always. You only want him because no one will take care of you like Alhaitham is.
Your throat is bursting with moans that you are desperately trying to hold back so that your parents on the ground floor won't hear you, and it gets even harder when you feel Alhaitham's cock slowly begin to stretch you, sinking inch by inch into your warm insides.
— You're damn tight, Y/N. I'm even flattered that you saved yourself for me.
— Haitham, stop embarrassing me! — you whisper loudly, barely managing to cover your mouth with your hand when his hips meet your ass in one sharp thrust. It… hurts a little, but how perfectly his cock filled your insides. You can feel the blood pulsing in the veins running along the base of his hard organ while he remains motionless, causing your walls to involuntarily contract.
— Why are you confused by such simple facts? I find such emotions inappropriate when my cock is already inside you.
— Just… move… — you look away, tightening your arms around his neck.
— Hm-m? You got used to it so quickly, it's commendable, — you feel Alhaitham's dick pushing even harder into your cervix, which seemed impossible when he pressed his hips even tighter against yours.
It's so unusual to feel him so deep inside. His cock is so huge that it feels like he's forced all the organs in your body to make room. But it's so damn little. Your walls spasm around the hard flesh over and over again, wanting to feel more stimulation, which Alhaitham deprives you of just watching you squirm in his arms, and tears come to your eyes.
— Haitham! — you scream, digging your nails into the skin of the back of his head, when footsteps begin to be heard approaching the door.
— Y/N! Y/N, are you at your brother's?
Shit. As soon as you hear your mother's voice, your stomach twists painfully, and you freeze, holding your breath, casting a frightened look at Alhaitham.
The corners of your brother's lips turn up in a slight smile as he brings his index finger to his lips, motioning for you to be quiet.
«What the hell is that supposed to mean?!»
— Yes, mom, she's in my room.
You exhale with relief, seeming to understand what he meant, but your calm is instantly disrupted when Alhaitham's cock abruptly bursts out of your insides, then stretching and filling you to the limit again. Your eyes widen in mute shock as you press your palm tightly to your mouth, trying to swallow any sound that intends to escape from your throat. Your back is pressed against the door over and over again, the only barrier between the dirty sight that is happening in your brother's room from the eyes of an unsuspecting mother, while Alhaitham's hips slam into your ass with a soft thud at a rough impatient pace.
— Oh, then I'll come to you now!
Your brother is silent, not stopping for a second, further terrifying your poor pounding heart. You tremble, shaking your head in panic, trying to convey to Alhaitham without words what he himself should understand, but for some reason his lips stretch into an even wider smile when one of his palms moves to your crotch, and his fingers press on your clitoris, sending a treacherous wave through your body pleasure.
The moment it took your mother to get to the door seemed to last forever, while your lower abdomen was bursting with delicious spasms that you couldn't resist. Your back arches and your hips shake as the knot in your stomach unties. This orgasm isn't comparable to the ones you brought yourself to on your own. The heat settling in every cell of your body is so intoxicating that it seems as if you are about to lose consciousness. The walls of your vagina clenched so tightly around Alhaitham's cock, still not slowing down, that even he couldn't restrain the quiet moan that escaped from his lips while his fingers continued to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves, only prolonging this magical feeling that causes addiction.
The handle twitches, and you feel a slight pressure from the other side of the door.
— Haitham? Is your door closed?
Your mother's worried voice dispels the fog that has enveloped your consciousness.
— I'll be down in a minute, mom! Brother, n-gh… Helps me with the preparation for the test, — you needed all the self-control you had left so that at least your voice didn't tremble, sounding confident enough without arousing suspicion.
— Are you all right? You sound kind of upset...
— Yes, it's all right! Just wait for me downstairs!
It's unbearable. You are so sensitive, but your brother's cock continues to persistently penetrate you, touching all the right points in your insides to make you feel that heady heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach again, even when his hand, covered with your moisture, returns to your thigh. You can hear your mother muttering to herself before you hear soft, retreating footsteps in the hallway.
— What the fuck, Haitham?! — you snap back, weakly slapping your brother, who is apparently amused by your outburst, on the shoulders.
— You did a great job. It would be awkward if she insisted on coming in.
— Awkward?! D-damn it! — you no longer hold back your moans, desperately biting your lower lip to somehow muffle your sounds, when your hands cling to Alhaitham's neck again, gaining an even more careless and rude pace.
The door knocks softly under the pressure of erratic thrusts. Your brother's cock seemed to get even bigger and harder, stretching your tight walls almost painfully. For the first time, the soft sounds of Alhaitham's hoarse moans cut into your ears, which sound even more beautiful than you could have imagined in your dirtiest fantasies. His lips are open, and the muscles of his forearms are so sexually tense when he literally hammers you into the door, chasing his own orgasm. You don't know how it should feel, but you're sure that he's as close as you are, teetering on the edge of a high that seems to drive you crazy.
A second orgasm hits your poor body just when you feel something warm and sticky spreading in your insides, and Alhaitham's hips are pressed tightly against your ass, remaining almost motionless. He rests his head on your shoulder, exhaling heavily from his lungs as you both try to relive the intense pleasure spreading somewhere under your skin.
You barely come to your senses when you feel your brother's cock leaving your insides, and he gently lowers you to the floor, barely standing on your feet and instantly grabbing his arm to keep from losing your balance. Sticky drops of semen trickle down the inside of your thighs, and you watch in fascination as they settle on the floor, gradually coming out of a state of intoxication and digesting what just happened.
— So you need help with the test? — Alhaitham's voice sounds as cold and indifferent as usual again, as if nothing unusual has happened right now, as he takes off his shirt and slides his trousers down his muscular, seductive thighs. You give an awkward glance at his cock as he walks past, heading to the closet to change into his home clothes. How did he fit in you anyway…
— Very funny… — you adjust your underwear, awkwardly trying to pick up the cream drops from your feet before you see your brother handing you a napkin. — Thanks.
Alhaitham silently turns away, pulling a T-shirt over his magnificent body, and you are mesmerized by watching him now at a close distance, and not hiding behind the door of his room.
— Listen… You're going to move away from here, aren't you? Well, someday.
— Huh? Why do you ask? — your brother turns around, looking at you through slightly narrowed eyelids. — Yes. I've only stayed in this house to keep an eye on you sometimes, but I guess my help won't be needed anymore.
— Take me with you! — you grab the soft fabric of his T-shirt, looking up at Alhaitham with a pleading look.
— Ho-oh, I didn't think you didn't like to be here so much, — your brother crosses his arms over his chest, taking in your petite figure with an appraising glance. — What if I ever get into a relationship?
You're sulking, hastily pulling your hand away, about to just leave, when Alhaitham's big palm touches your jaw, pulling your face down for a kiss. Now your beloved brother's lips are touching yours not with the same desire that they touched the first time. Is he kissing you now… tenderly?
As soon as his lips leave yours, you feel your face turn red again when your gaze meets his cold aquamarine eyes.
— If that's what you want, I don't mind.
374 notes · View notes
thatdeadaquarius · 11 months
Note
Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot
Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...
Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.
Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.
Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?
WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-
On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs
But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-
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Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader
Planet: Language Shenanigans
Orbit: Scenario
Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),
& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.
You were not a very confident writer.
This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.
You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.
things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.
If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…
So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,
You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.
Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.
Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.
You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world
After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)
Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???
you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-
and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-
His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,
“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”
…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),
and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all
you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!
Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.
You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???
You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???
(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)
You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:
you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-
you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-
oh my god-
Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-
You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.
You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.
“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”
Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)
and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!
Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-
But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??
Like he’s done nothing wrong???
You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!
He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.
Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.
“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”
….Motherfucker.
Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,
1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!
Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!
Safe Travels Anon,
That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]
Iced coffee?? :0
💀♒
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche
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qawcamiz · 1 year
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A Reward
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VAL + MLIST ; Happy Valentine's! It doesn't intrude on anyone if you'll be spending the particular day this month brings in, alone, we can spend it together with these one-shots I've prepared just for you, hoping it would send passion to you.
NSFW : office sex, secretary x ceo, humiliation, dominance, cockwarming, teasing, fingering, exhibitionism, praise, teasing, pet names, riding, cursing, degradation, penetration, etc.
note : I was only gonna do one character but since I've been inactive, yall take this, Happy Valentine's! The poll's ending and so far, secretary y/n x ceo is in the lead, whatever won would be the result for the female version as well. 💗
[ male ver. ] — Al Haitham, Ayato, Dainsleif, Diluc, & Tartaglia
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│ AL HAITHAM
doing something nasty with your boss was something you never thought would ever happen to you in your lifetime of work at a publishing company, especially in your life as a bitter individual, but here we are, with the most recent edition in progress. you felt your stomach flip whenever he would thrust up his cock inside you further, the warmth radiating off his body seeping into yours, and that one thing you had always been discreetly craving for came right back again.
it's funny how all those sexual thoughts about him that you have never really let yourself admit to anyone, in particular, come rushing to mind when you think about what it might be like to fuck him, to have sex with him, it’s almost enough to make you feel ashamed from your desires.
"S-Sir... Please..." you begged him, and though it was difficult for you not to plead with him since he liked edging and teasing you like this to get you into positions where you would just do what he said or say something he wanted you to, you pushed your best to the limit to withstand him.
"Can't even wait until I finish my work, huh? Like a naughty thing you are, entering my office without even knocking first." He whispered seductively, You bit your lip, hoping you didn't make things worse for yourself by refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry... I-It won't happen again... I... Was just in hurry to- to get the work done as fast as p-possible so you'd get off early, s-sir..." you explained, your voice quivering and barely audible, but you were doing everything you could to hide how flustered and embarrassed you were at that moment. You didn't want to seem weak before him, it would only make him more determined to have you as his cocksleeve,
He hummed in reply, and you heard the shuffling of papers behind you, "So what? You want me to award you or something for doing that? I never asked you to rush the work, but if you must insist on having your head held down, then I can't deny you this." he told you. You gulped and looked at him sheepishly, You weren't exactly sure what he meant, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't refuse anything he asked, especially if it involved getting to kiss him or touch him, you just couldn't help yourself sometimes, you had fallen hard for him. "if you can wait for me to finish this, who knows? I might even consider rewarding you."
│ KAMISATO AYATO
The sound of skins clapping and your wails are the only voices that permeate the room. You’ve lost trail of time after all this. In a way, You wouldn't lie, it was kind of nice though, being so immersed in the sensation of someone else or rather your 'boss' who's doing you to such a great extent that it leaves you feeling like a mess.
The chimes that come out of your mouth were loud enough to drown out any thoughts and doubts that might come to the surface, even if you try not to think about them at all. You're not certain how long you've been laying there with your hands clutched together, but all you could think at the moment is how much satisfaction he had given your body from the inside.
"You've been working pretty hard, (y/n)," You felt an arm caress your waist, Ayato pressed his lips against your neck. "And for that, You deserve a reward." His lips move to smooch your skin as he speaks to you, sending shivers down your spine every time. It's almost like he knows precisely what you feel and how to please your body just right, leaving you unable to move on your pact.
the way his cock moved inside your tight walls while he fucked you into thoughtlessness and made you enjoy the moment better... It made your heart beat faster, He was so fine, the way he would move with his lips on your neck and his cock into you made everything more severe than it should have been.
"A-Ayato~" you couldn't help but whine loudly when he started moving slowly in and out of you from behind. The oscillations of his hips against your own caused warmness to pool between your legs, stretching out through your whole body and making you want more. He groaned and bit your earlobe. "Normally, I'd be furious for you calling me by my name informally just like that, but today I'm just too busy here to care," Ayato said in between heavy pants. Your mind went blank as you felt him hit that particular spot, causing you to arch up and let out another moan that sounded less like a word and more like a plea.
│ DAINSLEIF, & DILUC
you were always curious about his reputation, in fact, you never get how your workmates are drawn into him! He was all cold and mysterious, always working at his desk and barely interacting with his employees. But then again, there is no shortage of people who are frigid and bizarre, to begin with. You know this. everyone was envious of you for being taken the yield of as his 'assistant' but that's just how things are between the two of you. It's not like he behaves toward you differently or anything, it's just that you can see right through the facade he puts up when it comes to his emotions toward others.
so now it's all weird to say that you're giving your boss the best day ever, How did it happen? it was because you had an argument with him and now with his dick inside your mouth, it felt really good, especially when you heard some sounds coming from his pretty lips. He sounded like he was having trouble controlling himself and you thought he would stop you but he didn't. so that's when your brain finally clicked. you were both horny, and the only way to relieve that pain would be to do something to each other.
but no, you were being disciplined for speaking disrespectfully toward him, and now would you even call this punishment? giving him a head like this makes you feel incredible, especially when your hands roam around his body, touching what you could brush. you don’t know how to describe his body, he has a ton of muscles that move with every movement he makes. it’s all amazing to you. you wish this feeling will last permanently because right now you think you could fall asleep with this man's cock inside your mouth, your lips wrapped around his shaft.
you’ve been sighing softly and he seems to be getting a kick out of this too. maybe he finds it as arousing as you do, maybe he's aware of what you want, or maybe he doesn’t give a damn either. you don’t know but he seems to be getting more impatient, and soon his hand is on your hair, pulling slightly so you open up further to take a better hold of his cock. “oh... your mouth... Fuck” he mutters breathlessly before thrusting into your throat harder than before. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second and you don’t think that’s fair because this isn’t even fucking you yet.
the noises he makes and how his dick slides into your mouth smoothly feel like heaven in the best way possible. he’s almost completely out of breath by now and looks like he might collapse any moment. you have him now, your fingers tightly wrapped around his shaft, pumping him with your mouth as hard as you can just to earn his forgiveness.
| TARTAGLIA
Your tight walls hugged his cock as if they were the very walls of your heart. Your hands held resting on his shoulder with your weight as you pressed your body onto him. You rode him hard until he cried out in euphoria. His face was buried in your neck, his hair was soft, and his scent was intoxicating.
He felt you squeezing his hips to keep his cock deep inside of you. He was aching for discharge, you could sense it. But the instant his hand wrapped around your waist, you gasped. His touch left an ice-cold trail across your back. The way his fingers traced circles on your skin made you shudder. He had that effect on you that no one else ever could. It was so powerful, so captivating. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized how much you liked this.
You like all of the noises he's making, the feeling of your thighs against each other, the roughness of your bare legs digging into his chest. You're sure that it makes him think of other things too when you're fucking him, but you don't mind at all. There's just something about having someone so passionate about sex, but so careful with everything else as well. "You're so tight..." he groaned, It's like you're in sync with each other, both of you moving in perfect tandem. You want to be as close to him as possible. So when he touches your shoulders or your ass, you let go and take his hand wherever you can reach. And that feels good. You love his big strong hands roaming over you. They are bigger than your own but softer. Like when he caresses you from behind, his touch lingers as it travels upwards.
"Not only were you good at seducing others," he says, "But you also knew what you were doing." His breath tickles your ear and you shiver. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your hole has you moaning softly. It seems like the only thing that sounds louder than your breathing, and that alone makes you crave more. Your body aches for more. Your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you. You move your hips up again and again, pushing yourself against him as if trying to draw every bit of his cock into you. It drives both of you insane. All of it. Everything.
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morrieandlicky · 6 months
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Sweet Moments Between Maurice and Alec That You Have Not Seen Before (From E.M. Forster's 1st Draft for Maurice)
Context: Forster's first version of Maurice, finished in 1914, has a rather different ending than the final published version (no hotel scene, and no boathouse reunion). See here.
Forster's first draft for Maurice is, in my opinion, the rawest in terms of boldly displaying the love shared between Maurice and Alec. This version shows much more of Alec's emotion and tenderness, as well as of Maurice's sentiments and affection towards Alec. It is definitely not as subtle as the final version, with quite a few straightforward declarations of love.
Hence, I'm disappointed that Forster did not manage to integrate at least some of these 1914 texts into the final version: it would've made the love between Maurice and Alec much more pronounced and convincing, as well as made Alec a character with more depth and feelings.
Having read Forster's first draft for Maurice, I share below some of these moments between Maurice and Alec that are not in the final version (ordered on how lovely I think each moment is. Bolded texts are the highlights).
1. After running into Mr. Ducie in the museum and Maurice bursting out to Alec.
M: "I'd possibly have blown out my own brains."
A: "Why?" he asked, stopping dead.
M: "I should have known by that time that I loved you."
A: "You can't, sir, you couldn't."
M: "I love you, sir be damned."
A: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel."
M: "I don't want to hear that."
A: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?"
M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled." (Maurice is referring to the moment when Alec ran in the rain across the rose bushes at Penge just to see Maurice's face.)
2. The conversation after Maurice refuses to stay the night with Alec—a scenario that only happens in the first draft in 1914. Be prepared for tears.
A: "Come just for a little to me."
M: "If I came it would be for ever."
A: "Ever's the best."
M: "Why, man, you sail Thursday."
Alec found no answer.
...: here's when Maurice explains in a long paragraph why they can't be together because of their class difference and the fact that they're both men. But in this long paragraph Maurice pretty much brings up wanting to marry Alec—"We can't have the particular thing we want (which is roughly speaking marriage) unless we sacrifice something else"
M: I thought from that letter of yours you might want me to come. But, Alec, come where to?"
A: "I'd know if you weren't a gentleman," Alec said. "We'd a' found work together as mates."
M: "Yes, and if you were a gentleman, I'd take you this minute to my home.
A: "I'd a' been what young Clive was to you, then."
M: "He's a saint and we aren't. Leave out him."
A: "I'd a' been yours till death, then." ("I would've been yours till death, then")
M: "Out there if you get a chance to marry, take it. That's what I wish.
A: "Maurice, what'll you do without me, dear? Have you no other friends?"
Maurice dared not look forward to his own future. He rushed on the parting.
M: "And if there's ever a child, I shan't ever have that, so remember me."
A: "I'll remember you, child or none. God bless you. O God bless you, and be with you if I can't."
3. Right after Maurice puts his hand on Alec's back in the museum
"Yes, awfully serious," remarked Maurice, and rested his hand on Alec's shoulder, so that the fingers touched the back of the neck, doing this merely because he knew that he loved Alec, that he loved him not as a second Dickie Barry, but deeply, tenderly, for his own sake, beneath weakness and vulgarity.
4. In the museum, Alec in pain and acting cute
[Alec] had bitten his lip, his eyes were red too; face and body were cramped with pain.
M: "Alec -"
A: "Alec am I?"
M: "I'm sorry I used that other name of yours."
A: "Don't speak to me," he growled, "let me go, you calling me Alec when I"
M: "Did you give me away then on purpose?"
A: "You're correct.
M: "Was it to get money - or only to do me harm?"
A: "I couldn't say."
M: "Come, let's get away where we can finish our talk."
A: "What? What do you say?"
M: "Come along, Alec."
A: "Do you call me that still?"
M: "Come away, man, don't break down for God's sake...." He took hold of [Alec's] arm. The touch was not reminiscent; it hinted at a relation to come.
A: "Oh but you must, I want it." Alec yielded.
5. Maurice at night thinking about Alec's letter
He tried to forget the treacherous letter, but it stole back to his mind, and he suffered most during moments in bed, when it masqueraded as a real love letter, and offered him the completeness that Clive enjoyed with Anne.
(This is brilliant writing because we, as readers, know that Alec's letter is a love letter, yet Maurice's "muddles" prevent him from seeing it as a love letter, and it is only at night, when he's craving Alec's presence, that he's able to allow himself to see the truth and succumb to his feelings for Alec.
Here, again, is also a suggestion of Maurice wanting to marry Alec, like how Clive married Anne)
6. One version of Maurice's and Alec's first night together
A: "Good evening - sir, said the low voice. Was you wanting something? Couldn't you sleep?" It was the gamekeeper.
On your rounds? gasped Maurice, trying to sound natural, and felt corduroys. Their touch disconcerted him. Whither was he tending from Clive into what companionship?
A: "Just wait till I've set down my gun - eh aren't you trembling?"
M: "So are you - ah don't."
A: "Don't you like that?"
M: "I don't know."
A: "Christ you're fussy. Don't you like me to touch you."
M: "That's you lad."
A: "Yes."
Side notes: hopefully these will shut all the detractors (of the relationship between Maurice and Alec) up—namely Clive apologists, Clive+Maurice shippers, and all of those dark academia classist out there.
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yawntu · 1 year
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ASS OR TITS FOR THE ATWOW GUYS RN IM BEGGING IT CAN BE QUICK 💳💥💳💥💳💥 Rotxo, Aonung, Neteyam and Lo’ak please please please
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a/n: alright, i’m going to be hearing you out this time. I was working on a totally different request about these specific guys so if that one’s yours too I promise it’ll be done by the end of the night but I got a little carried away with how each of them feel about your tongue ring and it’s way longer than this. This ask was quicker for me and I could publish it while I ate a little snack (this took me less then a half hour and I did it while I ate I promise i’ll get around to editing and proofreading LMAO). Fem body descriptions to fit the nature of the prompt. warning: tumblr mobile eats the end of my fucking posts for some reason
pairing(s): Ao’nung x f!Reader, Neteyam x f!Reader, Rotxo x f!Reader, Lo’ak x f!Reader
word count: ~ 100 words each
warnings: NSFW / MDNI. Female bodily descriptions, Spicy but not extremely explicit smut, Fondling, Public display of affection / public play (Ao’nung), Breeding? (Ao’nung), Impact play (Neteyam), Rough doggy (Rotxo), Analingus if u squint (Rotxo), Nipple play (Lo’ak), lmk if I miss pls I suck at warnings
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꧁ Ao’nung: Can not help but love your boobs. Everything about them. Between their shape, the intoxicating weight of them in his palms, and the fact that they'll feed his kids one day it is obvious why he would obsess over them. These reasons are all valid in his mind, but more importantly to him- other people notice them as well. He can't help but make sure you know they belong to him.
Everyone thinks Ao'nung is an ass man and while I'm sure Ao'nung loves pulling you back by your pretty little tail so he can listen to the sound of your pretty ass bounce against his thick thighs and toned lower stomach- but Ao'nung is a boob man. There's something hypnotizing about the way the fat of your breasts bounces anytime you jump into the water or the way your colorful little tops always rise from your breasts when you convince him to play in said water with you on your shared downtime.
He can't help wrapping one of his big palms around them- squishing and kneading at the flesh anytime he finds the chance. Not only does he get to squeeze your very pretty boobs, but he also gets to hear the pretty annoyed whine you always give him. Some half-hearted comment about how people could see what he was doing. As if Ao'nung could possibly care what anyone thinks; it's bold of you to act as if you do not know that his favorite thing in all of Pandora is leaving wine-stained bruises all over the expanse of your tits for everyone to see.
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꧁ Neteyam: loves everything about you, he couldn’t possibly favor one part of your pretty little body could he?
How can he pick? If someone had told him to choose the best part of your body or die he might just have to say a prayer and meet Eywa. He spends a concerning amount of time thinking about groping at every inch of you. Out of all of the people in Pandora, he is definitely the most enamored with you. So enamored he genuinely does not have a conscious preference. If he reflects on the way he naturally reacts to your body though, he would have to say that he was an ass man.
What can he say? He grew up with pretty strict rules and his own self-imposed regulations. Something is just so satisfying when either on purpose or accidentally, you break said rules. He relishes in the domineering feeling that blossoms in his wide chest and sinks down into his twitching stomach as he gets to toss you down over his legs. Relish in the sharp sound of his smack at the round of your ass while you blabbed and moaned about how sorry you were. Neteyam can never bring himself to truly listen to you though. Too busy watching your skin change colors for him at the command of his controlled strikes.
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꧁ Rotxo: is the most ass man to ever appreciate ass. You can convince him to do just about anything if you bend over and flick your tail at him.
It's embarrassing how quickly he'll say ass. He's obsessed with it. He can't even hide it from your close circle of friends. Unapologetically zoned out, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet as he watches your pretty little form walk down the beach and away from him. It's why he is so enthusiastically ruthless when he's got your frame bent over in front of him in doggy. Eyes feasting on the ripple of your ass as he slams into you. He can't even hear how you beg him to slow down over the clap of your ass and the thud of his own heart in his blushing ears. He swears the undulation of the way the skin ripples against the force of him makes you prettier than the sea herself.
Walking next to you just doesn't feel right if he isn't grasping at the fat of your hips or thighs. He has to force himself to be decent in public, but to him, it's just not fair. Why would his mate have such a nice ass if it wasn't for him to hold? Eywa forbid he isn't laying his head on the plump of your ass any time you lay on your stomach, it's to make up for how little he can touch you during the day. He'll bite, lick, and paw at it all night if you'd let him.
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꧁ Lo’ak: Knows what he likes. He doesn't hide how much he likes you, but you know how much he likes loving you in the privacy of your own home. There's nothing that gets him through the day quite like knowing he gets to lay down with your boobs in his face and you're sweet enough to let him use you how he wants.
Tits. He'd have to put a lot of thought into it because to anyone who has ever had the misfortune of watching the two of you interact would have sworn your mate was utterly obsessed with the fat of your ass considering how often his hands were attached to it. Lo'ak is not shy in the slightest with you, so playful smacks and grabs are commonplace no matter where you happen to be bent over. That, however, is only what he lets people see. This was only him being considerate of those forced to endure being in the same area as the two of you.
What people do not know however, is the second the two of you are wrapped in the comfort of privacy his pretty plump lips are almost always leaving sloppy open-mouth kisses up the expanse of your pretty azure chest and toying your nipples with his tongue until his spit is dripping off of you. He can't help but find comfort in listening to the flutter of your erratic heartbeat and your pretty little sighs as he tries his very best to make you cum just like that. It helps him unwind from his often busy days and it even helps you relax and drift off to sleep. How is he meant to spend a single night without your pretty boobs in his mouth?
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lynderman · 1 year
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𝘼 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙀𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 (Xavier Thorpe)
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Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k+
Date Published: 12/9/22
Synopsis: You’ve always been 2nd place. First place for losers. Attending Nevermore was supposed to change that.
A/N: (I was so confident writing this, and I feel like I went down a rabbit hole because some shit doesn't even make sense. So idk if it’s good or not. It also isn’t proofread 💀)
Part 2
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Vi, are you still free after fencing today? I thought I’d take you up on that offer and go down to Jericho to get-“
“Sorry. I told Wednesday I’d meet her in the nightshades library to look for a certain book.” My smile instantly vanished as he said her name. It’s not that I hate her, no. I could never. We’re best friends! Well, as close as best friends could be to Wednesday Addams. I didn’t have a reason to hate her; But I did have more than enough to be jealous. Ever since we were kids she’s always been able to one-up me.
It started with small things like getting better grades in school. Then to committing higher and bigger crimes. And it eventually reached the point where I felt like everyone in the family preferred her to me. Even my own dad! Her precious ‘Uncle Fester’, the only one who made her smile. He made everyone smile though. Every time he came home from one of his jobs, I’d get a pat on the head and Wednesday would get a hug. His niece got more love and affection from him than his own daughter did.
I thought maybe, just maybe when I came to Nevermore I’d be able to fit in. Be my own person! Make my own friends, be someone who I wanted to be. Not living in the shadows of my cousin; Being known as ‘The other Addams?’ Or ‘Wednesdays’ Cousin!’ And I was for a while. For a whole year I was just known as Me. I wasn’t compared to anyone or told to be better. In fact I was great! Fantastic, even.
I’d made captain of the fencing team, like aunt Morticia. I was first chair in almost all my classes. I had friends of my own and was always asked to hang out. People were interested in me. They wanted me for me. Especially Xavier. God, Xavier. He was drop dead gorgeous. His long hair that framed his face so perfectly. His hazel eyes so full of hope and warmth. The smile that was always on his face when I walked up to him or when we hung out. He made me feel so happy and appreciated. Just loved and seen. I would do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me!
Or so I thought.
The second that Wednesday showed up to Nevermore, any hopes I had of asking him out or just anything suddenly vanished. Like everyone else in my life, I was soon replaced by her darkening and compelling image. He became so infatuated with her. Our afternoon runs were taken away and replaced with him hanging out with her. He sat through and listened to her crazy theories all day and looked at her like she hung the stars herself. The same way he looked at me once.
My fists clenched my bag and I held back the urge to scream on the spot. Now the one time we were both free was taken away by her again? She wasn’t even a nightshade so that isn’t fair. “Have fun with that. I’ll be by the lake if you feel like I’m worth your time today.” My words seemed to get his attention because he finally looked up from his sketchbook. I caught a glimpse and saw it was an another drawing of Wednesday. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked off before he got the chance to. Or cry. Whichever came first at this point.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The sun shone directly onto my face as I continued to write down the finishing lyrics to my song. My plan for the day was to hang out with Xavier and show him my new music for my violin. He knew I played an instrument but he didn’t know what it was or that I sang. So I thought it’d be a good time to surprise him! But of course my plans were ruined thanks to Wednesday. Again.
Letting out a grunt of frustration, I threw my pen into the lake. “What’d the pen ever do to you?” My attention turned to Xavier’s voice behind me. I listened to the sound of the leaves crunch and stop before he sat down on my blanket beside me. I didn’t ask him to, but I always found it hard to be upset or angry with him. Peering over my shoulder he asked what I’d been writing. “Just some music. I was gonna go back to my dorm and see how it turned out.” He didn’t need to know I wanted him to go back with me.
“Really? Can I see it?” Hesitation filled my body but I still gave him the notebook. His hands flipped through my pages and the words. I prayed to god he didn’t under Latin. “You never told me you write music.” I shrugged and turned back to the lake. “You never bothered to ask.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
We sat at the lake for a while and just talked. It was nice; Feeling like I got my old friend back. The way he laughed at each joke I made and seemed to be genuinely interested in my topics made me realize how hard I’d fallen for him again. “Speaking of hair-“ He reached out to twirl the white strand in my black head of hair between his fingers. “Did you just decide it was a cool fashion statement or something?” I laughed lightly and shook my head.
“No, no. Back in 6th grade I was doing a science experiment, Y’know the one where you dissect frogs right? I was cutting him open and i just electrocuted myself without realizing it. That’s when I found out I’m like my dad. The whole lightning and shit. But I can do this weird thing with weather too where-“ I paused when I realized I was getting off track. “Anyways. I zapped myself and some shit happened with my hair when I did. It was only this piece though.” Laughing I turned the other way and buried my head into my knees. “I’ve tried to dye it back but it never works. All the other kids would make fun of me and say I’d get cancer or go bald. I dunno why though, that doesn’t make sense.”
What didn’t make sense was that I was basically Trauma dumping on Xavier for no reason. All he asked about was my hair and got some sob story in return. There was silence for a moment. I knew I overshared and he’d think I’m just some attention whore. It took me by surprise when he put his hand on mine, making me turn to face him. “I think it’s cool. Makes you stand out.” The blush that spread across my face was inevitable. Like an idiot I asked: “Really?”
A smile broke out in his face as he nodded. “Do you still wanna go to Jericho? The shuttle leaves in about 20 minuets? We can go to the weathervane and maybe check out that new music store?” My stomach was filled to the brim with butterfly’s, warmth spreading throughout it. Play it cool, play it cool. Don’t freak out. Just say that sounds fun. “Yes! Of course. I’d love to.” I mentally face palmed myself with the joy in my voice. It felt like a movie moment. Was this him asking me out on a date? Xavier finally got the balls to be the one to initiate it? No thoughts were going through my mind as my body leaned closer to his, him doing the same.
I could smell his cologne and feel his breath on my face; A mere 6 inches between my lips and his. Just as mine were to meet his, a phone rang. His phone. He blinked and apologized before picking it up.
“Hello? Enid? Since when did you call me? No, I’m not. She was busy so I’m at the lake, hanging out with-“ Xavier paused as Enid’s voice rose over the line, his brows furrowing as she spoke. I couldn’t hear what was going on. “Yeah, sure. Give me 7-8 minuets and I can. The quad or the courtyard? Mhm, sure.” He lowered his phone and hung up. “What’d Enid call about?” Standing up he began to brush himself off. “Wednesday asked her to call me since she doesn’t ‘want to be a slave to technology’. Said something about her finding a new lead on the monster and to meet her in the nightshades library.”
“But didn’t you earlier?” He shook his head. “No, she needed to do something else and talk to someone.” My lips pursed and watched as he grabbed his sketchbook from beside my bag. “Can we uh- rain check on Jericho?” All the butterflies and warmth my stomach were replaced with dread and insect repellent. “Again?” I muttered. “It’s nothing personal, I just need to-“
“No it never is with you is it? I mean do you even care about anyone or anything other than Wednesday?” The words left my mouth before I could process what I said. “Sorry?” Now I was standing up, arms crossed as I spoke. “Sorry? Oh shut up; Stop playing dumb. We both know you’re not so don’t try to bullshit your way out of this.” He took a step closer to me and looked down, irritation and confusion clouding his eyes. “What’re you talking about? What’s this even coming from? Why’re you getting so worked up about us hanging out?” Scoffing I took a step back from him.
“I’m getting worked up about this because you hang out with her all the time and not me! I’m constantly being ditched and put to the side cause you wanna go waste your time who doesn’t give a single fuck about you!”
“Don’t say that. She does but just act-“
“Acts distant and cold? Stand-offish and uninterested? She’s like that with everyone. What makes you think you’re any different to her? Do you think you’re special or some shit? Wednesday’s been like this her entire life and she’s certainly not going to change for some moron of a dude.” Xavier’s face only showed confusion as I spoke. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you can’t put two and two together? Wednesday Addams; (Y/n) Addams? How many Addams’s in this school do you know? If you named more, I wouldn’t be surprised since you seem to pay attention to everyone else other than me.” “Not everything is about you (Y/n).” He snapped.
“You’re right. It’s not! It’s always about Wednesday. Everything is. It’s always ‘Oh, have you seen Wednesday? I’m looking for her.’ Or ‘Do you wanna see this new drawing of her? It looks better than the last!’ Anything that comes out of your mouth is about her! Have you ever noticed how you put me next to her? Below, If you will. She plays cello and you draw her. I play violin, but you never bothered to ask because you’re too busy talking about how good she sounds. You go with her to Jericho to get coffee while I’m left behind doing schoolwork. Everywhere I go I’m beneath her. I’m compared to her, I’m belittled because I’m not as edgy or mysterious as she is. My family seems to like her more too. My own father loves her more than me! Can you imagine that, Xavier? Having to live in the shadow of your little cousin because she’s so much better than you at everything? I thought the name I made for myself at Nevermore would stick! I’d have my own friends and interests and not be known as the other Addams girl. I thought that I could get away and have shit of my own! BUT NO. I CAN’T.”
The air around me felt chilly and vast, a small breeze inclining as my voice got louder. “But it’s never going to happen. Everyone will always choose her over me. I’ll always be second to her. And it’s not fair. It’s not. I try to hard at everything. Especially when making friends. I’m almost on my knees trying to get people to approach me but she just has to stand and glare at people and suddenly they’re wrapped around her finger. Like you. You’re just another string waiting to be pulled by her; Following and doing what she says like a lost puppy. You look at her with such admiration and longing in your eyes. Maybe if you turned your head the other way and fixed your eyesight, you’d see that’s how I look at you! If you weren’t so fucking blinded by her borderline manipulative tendencies you’d notice I’m the way with you you are with her.”
My hands were moving with immense exaggeration as I spoke. The feeling of static shooting through my veins when I threw them down to my sides in anger. “Look, I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about this and-“ A short circuit of lighting extended from my fingers when I held my hand up to him. “This isn’t a two way conversation right now. It’s one where you listen to every word I say because that’s all I’ve ever done for you, especially ever since Wednesday’s gotten here-“
Speak of the devil, and she’ll arrive. Looking to my left I could see her standing a few feet away from us. “I think your feelings for Xavier are getting in the way of our goal, (Y/n).” I deadpanned. “Our goal?” She didn’t answer my question, only asking another one in its place.
“How would your father feel if he knew you were letting your emotions get the better of you?”
“Gee, I dunno. Why don’t you ask him since he was with you early in the nightshade’s library!” She said nothing. “He finally shows up after being on the run again and stops to say hi! Not to his daughter, but his niece.”
“It’s not my fault if Fester approached me and not you.”
“It’s never your fault is it? Nothing ever is. You’re just perfect Wednesday who’s above all others. Especially her cousin who’s done everything in her power to help her with her bullshit conspiracies. I’ve been on your side since day one. Believing in your shit when no one else would. And how do you thank me? By stealing the few people I have In my life away from me. Again and again. It’s a never ending cycle. And I never bother to break it because we’re family, Wednesday.” The overwhelming emotion of anger and hatred died down, the slight breeze fading completely. Now it was just cold and quiet. Water began to drop onto my clothes and belongings. When I looked up I realized It was raining; But only on me. As cliché as it sounds, there was a small storm cloud hovering above my head. Hence the weather thing I was telling Xavier about earlier.
“Do you know what you struggle with, (Y/n?).” Laughing, I faced Wednesday again. “No, but I’d love to hear your piercing insight on it!” “You don’t know when to turn your emotions on and off. You let them consume and confuse you. How you’re just a fool with a slow heart; Putting out love for others only to never get any back.” The rain became heavier as she spoke, each drop hitting harder against my face. “I understand that emotions are a foreign concept for you, Wednesday, but you don’t have a right to talk about mine if you don’t have any.” Is what I’d like to have said. But it isn’t. It was more along the lines of:
“Maybe you’re right. I do love too much because no one has ever given me any. I hope that one day you’ll think about all of the love I’ve given you, and maybe feel generous to reciprocate it.” Turning from her I grabbed my bag off the now drenched blanket and sling it over my bag. “The same goes for you, Vi. When you come to your senses and realize that I have and will still do anything to get a small sliver of your validation or time, my dorm room door will be open.” I meant to passive aggressively hand him his sketchbook back, but it was really just me shoving it into his chest. I didn’t dare look back at the two as I literally stormed off into the forest.
The sun still was shining around me even as I made my way back to the courtyard, through the quad, and up to my dorm. The cloud only got bigger when I was alone in my dorm room. Sitting in my shower I thought. Thought about how Wednesdays’ right. Despite ending up with nothing, I’ll still give everyone else everything I’ve never gotten in hopes someone will one day do the same.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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chansabsfanclub · 4 months
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Minho NSFW Alphabet
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Genre : suggestive smut, gender neutral reader
Words count : 1422
Warning : suggestive and some smutty content
A/n : This has been requested on both my Wattpad and Tumblr, so here I am writing and publishing this from my local Starbucks :) The things I do for Tumblr.
Aftercare :
Minho would be sweet when it comes to aftercare.  He likes to take care of you, run a bath for the both of you to enjoy, light a candle or two.  Cuddle in bed with the cats.
Body Part:
Minho loves his thighs, they're strong and sturdy and he loves you touching them and holding them and riding them.  On you, he loves your smile. Your mouth in general, wether it's smiling from him or with a his dick in your mouth.
Cum:
He's messy when it comes to cum. He has a thing for cream pies, but only does them if you’re okey with them. He also likes to finish in your mouth and watch it drip down your chin, or seeing his cum cover your chest.
Dirty Secret :
He would never admit it, but secretly he wants you to call him master. He'll want to try putting as collar around your neck during sex, but he's not sure if that's crossing a line, so he'll just stick to wrapping his hand around your throat.
Experience :
I can't see him being too incredibly experienced, not a virgin, but not too many partners, maybe 1 to 3.  He does (lee) know what he's doing though, and loves taking control.
Favourite position :
Minho loves being in control, so he prefers positions that give him that control.  One of his favourites is missionary, where he holds your legs up as he pounds into you.  Or doggy, where he can grip your hips and move you easily. 
Goofy :
He's not that goofy when it comes to sex.  For him sex is sensual and serious, and he takes it serious.  When he's getting down and dirty his focus is being sexy, turning you on and fucking you good, there's no time for jokes or giggles, he's too concentrated on the feeling and sensuality of sex.
Hair :
His hair isn't grown out, fo him as a dancer especially having lots of hair is uncomfortable, however its worse when it's completely bare and then has to grow back.  Minho usually maintains his hair at the perfect length where it doesn't irritate him while he's dancing and performing.
Intimacy :
Lee know loves intimacy, being close to you and loving you, celebrating ever little part of your body.  For him intimacy is important, and in the bedroom he reflects that by lots of foreplay and touching, as well as a slow, good fuck.  But don't get me wrong, he also loves the fast rough messy sex where he can destroy your insides.
Jack off :
Minho jerks off a lot.  Is it everyday?  No not quite that much, but every other day he's doing it. He can’t help the fact his libido is high.
Kink :
This man for sure has a bondage kink. Tying his partner up brings him pleasure, and he gets to do whatever he wants to them as they’re helpless and at his mercy. I feel like he, as a dancer, would also love having some music playing so he can pace himself, although I’m not sure you’d consider that a kink.
Location :
As long as you guys are in the privacy of your apartment he will fuck you everywhere. On the kitchen counter, shower, couch, you name it. He does not to public though, he could never risk someone finding you two and then having to deal with the embarrassment.
Motivation :
His motivation is your sounds, your moans and whimpers as his cock slides in and out of you. The way your eyes close and your mouth hangs open, and the sounds that escape. They’re music to his ears and it motivates him to keep going and making you feel bliss.
N0 :
No, absolutely no animal play. No kitten pet names, no acting like an animal and their owner. He is a cat dad and he could never imagine or play into that. Yes his dirty secret is a collar and being called master, but that’s more of a sex slave than an animal and owner. Whatever you do don’t act like an animal during sex or he will stop everything and go watch tv away from you.
Oral :
His favourite is receiving. Even though you’re the one doing it, he has all the power and control, thrusting his hips up and face fucking the shit out of you. He is all about dominance. He’ll give oral, but he’ll tease you the whole time, enjoying how you squirm for him.
Pace :
Whatever the music pace is. He’s similar to Chan in that way, except he’s a dancer and so music helps him stay on beat and get a good pace going. The playlists are his fun, he can go fast and hard, or slow and sensual depending on the song.
Quickies :
When Minho does quickies they’re because he desperately wants to get off (high libido kicking in). And you’re completely fine with it, they’re usually before leaving in the house and he gets a sudden boner and just can’t let it go.
Risk :
His teasing knows no bounds in public. His hand will “accidentally” graze your ass, or he’ll whisper what he plans to do when you get home. He won’t act on anything in public though or do anything that would risk you two being caught doing something, his pride could never recover after that.
Stamina :
He. Has. Dancer. Stamina. Prepare for Lee Know to fuck you for hoursssssss. His stamina lets him not feel tired easily so he’s good to go for a long time.
Toys :
Bondage by handcuffs, ropes, and other things. Your toys mostly consist of fluffy handcuffs and ropes for restricting your movement, so he can do whatever he likes to you. He’s chill if you have your own vibrators, he knows when he goes on tour you’ll be missing him and as long as he gets texts of details of how good you feel jerking off to the thoughts of him he loves it.
Unfair :
Lee know is a huge huge tease. He’s hot and he knows it and he uses it against you all the time. Teasing you when you’re out with friends, at home on the couch or waking up in the morning.
Volume :
His volume stays minimal, he doesn’t get too loud except for when he’s close to cumming he’ll moan your name and make lots of sounds. But for the most part his volume is low when you guys are fucking.
Wild card :
“Is my little slut excited for their reward?” Minho cocked his head at you as you laid on the bed. Your hands handcuffed together and rest above your head, all your clothes had been removed and you were completely exposed to him. You nodded your head rapidly, you were itching for his cock in side you.
He dropped his pants to the floor and made his way over to you, bending down and rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.
“I want to see these pretty lips take my dick.” He moves so that he’s on the bed and his cock is in your face, he holds it and waits for you to open your mouth, which you do and he slides his dick in. He lets out a low groan as you slide your tongue along his shaft. “Fuck that’s good.”
His hands finds your hair and clenches is tightly, moving your head for you as he thrusts into your throat and pulling your lips off of him, he takes a moment to admire them before shoving his cock back down your throat.
With a few more thrusts he lets out another groan and you feel your mouth fill up with his warm cum. Out of instinct you swallow it, and look up at him, seeing the wide grin on his face.
“That’s my slut.” He says, and he works his way down your body.
X-ray :
I’d say he has a pretty average sized dick, about 6” hard, he knows how to use it tho and how to manipulate your bodies to reach the deepest parts.
Yearning :
As mentioned before, he has a pretty high libido. Almost every night you’re doing something, it’s rare where you have a break, and even when hes away on tour sending photos is a ritual.
Zzz :
He’ll fall asleep almost immediately, holding you in his arms. Unless you two decide to shower and wash up, but if you’re both too tired you’ll cuddle together and fall asleep quickly.
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honey-flustered · 9 months
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Made With Love (Fluff)
Eddie Munson x Crocheter!Soft!GF!Plus!Reader
Summary: You love making gifts for your boyfriend and his cool uncle. And Eddie just simply adores you.
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A/N: Just short draft that ive kept for a while now because i just didn’t know what to do with it. So ive decided to publish it as it is so that in the meantime i can get my shit together.
Word Count: 1.5k+
Summary: inexperienced!reader and eddie, plus size reader, hinted!autistic reader, eddie being a simp for reader, lots of fluff, wayne being reader’s number 1 supporter (don’t tell eddie 🤭), sexually suggestive language and behavior, some body worship, kissing, cuddling
Eddie Munson is the luckiest man in the world. No really because just how did he manage to get a girl like you in his arms? You went beyond his criteria of a perfect girl which was simply to be a woman. But you’ve exceeded in ways he could have never imagined.
For one, you’ve got amazing taste in music. Despite the differences in your music genres, you both appreciate the variety and exchange songs all the time. Second, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Eddie knew he loved rubenesque women but you were all that and more. He swears could die and go to heaven at the feeling of your thick thighs and soft belly as you’d lay his head on either part. And not to mention that beautiful face he yearns to see smiling at him constantly with those enchanting eyes that seem to twinkle endlessly.
Lastly—a fact about you that has both facts, one and two, beat—you’re awfully talented. You bake, paint, and, best of all, you crochet.
You crochet just about everything and he admires it. The best part is you always came up with the most interesting things that even Eddie wasn’t sure he needed.
Currently, you and Eddie were curled up on his couch. Your eyes wandering his shaky lean frame while his eyes stays glued to the television set, a gentle hand caressing your thigh.
You pride yourself for being an observant one, a skill you’ve had to perfect throughout your childhood in order to understand the world around you. And because you’re so observant, nothing gets passed you including the way he continues to shiver beside you.
“Something wrong?” You ask, concerned.
“Just my unusually cold wrists as always,” Eddie sighs. “Strangely specific, I know. It’s the chain bracelet and leather cuffs. The silver and leather are like ice against my skin with this freezing ass weather.”
You smile brightly, clapping your hands in excitement. “Actually, I have just the thing for this little issue.”
“Oh, do you?” Eddie smirks, nose scrunching up in amusement.
“Mhm,” You nod as you began rummaging through your bumblebee bag (crocheted by yours truly). “Close you eyes.”
“‘Kay.” He obeys with a smile never leaving his face.
Rushing up to stand in front of the television set, you held the items behind your back before commanding your boyfriend to open his eyes once more.
“So…I’ve noticed the way you rub your wrists for the friction to radiate some heat because they’re always so cold lately. And I also notice that when the cold becomes to unbearable you’re forced to remove your wrist accessories,” You began your spiel as if you’re in an infomercial. “Why should you sacrifice style or possibly losing your accessories because of naked wrists? Well not anymore with my handy dandy…wrist bands!”
You shoot your hands up and out in front of you, dangling each red and white patterned wristband in either hand. “I also call them Eds Bracelet Warmers as a placeholder product name.”
“That’s metal!” Eddie praises, standing up to study the bands closely. You release them into his hands and he stares down at them in awe, sliding each onto his arm and making a little show of them before his attention resumes back on you.
“Do you like it?” You say rocking back and forth on your heels anxiously.
“I love it! It’s the best gift you’ve ever given me.”
You snort out a giggle. “You say that with every crochet I’ve made you.”
“I was wrong all the other times. I mean, as much as I love the crocheted mug warmers, pillows, and seat cover…I’m thinking this might top them all. Just look at the detailing on this. You’re like a goddamn Picasso. Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a hand on his chest, letting you know just how much you’ve touched his heart. Then he suddenly grows shy, tapping his index fingers together as he avoids your gaze. “Permission to hold you. Maybe…kiss you a little.”
“You don’t have to ask,” You run into his embrace, cupping his face in your hands to plant a searing hot kiss onto his lips. With the mixture of your forwardness and his knee-buckling reaction, he’s sent falling back against the couch with you still in his arms.
You scramble to peel yourself off from above him, not wanting to put to much pressure on his slender frame. And yet he interlocks his fingers together right on your lower back, keeping you still. “Wait, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never, baby,” Eddie says, bringing a hand up to your face to caress your cheek. He then traces his thumb faintly around your lips. “I want you on me all the time.”
He suddenly becomes nervous, a tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. He’s nervous under your alluring gaze, aware that you’re clocking every shift and change in his facial features and mood. Embarrassingly, he had an erection that you no doubt felt in between your bodies and pressing against your belly. Eddie decides to release you from his full grasp.
Instead of pulling away, you draw his thumb into your mouth slowly, pursing your lips around them as you look him through your lashes and half-lidded eyes.
He chokes out an audible whine, even the inside of your mouth felt good. He’s never wanted to explore it this badly. When you pull your mouth around the digit with a pop, Eddie’s quick to cup your face now and shoves his tongue into your mouth. He takes control of the motions, gradually rolling your bodies over so that he’d end up on top.
His eager hands glide up your smooth skin of your thighs, pushing up your dress that fit snug around you. Your hands entangle themselves in his hair, letting your long nails lightly scratch his scalp.
You and Eddie have been soft lovers with one another, taking your time and being patient with one another regarding physical affection. It took a lot for the two of you to feel comfortable enough to ask each other for touches and eventual kisses. You’d say you’ve gotten pretty far.
Sometimes, things would get heated and you’d be concerned that it might lead to sex considering you’re both virgins. However, aside from your anxieties and insecurities, you actually did feel as if you’re ready to give yourself to him. But ever the gentleman, Eddie is usually one to call it quits.
But with his lips moving against your own so passionately, you couldn’t see how he’d pull away now. Especially not when you’ve got fistful of his Hellfire club shirt in your hands to prevent him from doing so.
Nonetheless, he pulls away much to your chagrin. The faint reminder of his lips against yours still felt by you in the span of a millisecond. You wish that feeling could linger forever.
He stares down at you, examining the look on your face. It’s your turn to hold him still against you, your nails burrowing in his exposed lower back.
“Sweetheart…” Eddie begins as if in a trance.
“Yes…Eddie.”
“I think…that I—”
The swinging of the creaky, trailer door is enough to lurch you both apart, sitting in your designated seats on the couch. Uncle Wayne enters the room with a hand over one eye and an outstretched hand to guide himself into the home.
“All clear?” He asks.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “All clear, Waydog. We’ve been good.”
Wayne opens his eyes slowly, his gaze landing on you on the couch. He perks up with a bright smile. “Oh, y/n, what a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t sure you’d be here. I was actually worried I was going to walk into Eddie watching—“
“Dude!” Eddie interrupts, staring at his uncle in incredulous betrayal.
“Aw come on. I kid, I kid. You know that’s what we Munson men do. She’s used to that by now.” Wayne chuckles, placing some bags of grocery on the counter.
You giggle, soothing Eddie’s hair as way of ensuring him that it’s okay. Going over to the kitchen, you and Eddie help Wayne unload the groceries when Wayne notices the crochet bands around his nephew’s wrists.
“Those look neat! You think you could make me a pair?” Wayne asks you with hopeful eyes.
“Of course! And don’t you worry, I’ll even get them to match the beanie hat I’m still making for you.” You beam.
“Woah, woah. Wait a minute. He gets a matching hat?” Eddie inquires with a pout.
“Oh, like you haven’t stolen the first hat she’s made me.” Wayne chuckles.
“I didn’t steal. I borrowed.”
“For 4 whole months?”
“There isn’t a time limit for borrowing something. If there is, I’d like to see the rule.” Eddie challenges.
“I think you’re just jealous of us,” Wayne says, standing beside you with you nodding in agreement. “Why else would you take my gifts if not to have them all to yourself?”
“My girlfriend and my uncle in alliance against me.” Eddie laughs, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Didn’t think I’d see the day coming so soon.”
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