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#at least i managed to draw his nose the way I wanted to
hikarinokusari · 6 months
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Somehow I managed to draw the portrait of VR for my game, his receeding hairline now that my players won’t see him because he left the tower for who-knows-where. I headcanon the man to wear little glass-chains instead of the classic holds that remains behind the ears. Anyway. I'm back to drawing the the remaining members of Ravenloft so maybe see you with them, if I stay motivated.
Coat's design is taken from DDO's design because I spent too much time trying to understand and redraw the coat from the portrait (._. )
Feel free to use in your own game,
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reverie-starlight · 4 months
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megumi loves…
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a collection of things megumi loves about you.
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. so sweet it’ll make your teeth rot tbh. he won the poll so here’s the fic as promised!! literally wrote this on the bus and train rides this morning after having this planned for weeks. I literally love him sm he is everything to me <3
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megumi loves when you play with his hair. the feel of your nails running along his scalp, playing with the nape of his neck- it’s calming. you do it most often when you’re both in his bed, cuddling after a mission or a long day of training. he’ll flop down on top of you, plant his head on your chest and sigh. he waits for you to do something, drawing the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from your lips (a laugh) as he glares up at you when you don’t move your hands. you’ll mumble out a soft “aw I’m sorry, baby,” before giving him exactly what he wants. he’ll press tender kisses to any patch of skin he can reach in thanks. you’d never make him ask twice because you know he truly appreciates this time spent with you and you’d never want him to shy away from you. you’re each other’s safe space after all, who would you be to deny him?
sometimes you’ll do it in public, too, but far less often. these are the times that you just can’t hold back- he’s so cute, why would you? he grumbles about it a bit, especially if you’re around people you know (he’s shy, after all), but can he really complain when you look at him so softly as you play with his dark locks? he’ll endure the teasing and reassure you that he’s fine with it if you start to pull away.
megumi loves running his fingers along your facial features. over the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, tracing your lips… he just loves your facial structure. it sounds like an odd compliment to give someone, especially if it’s the first compliment you give someone (and in his case, it was the first compliment he managed to stutter out after you offhandedly called him pretty when you were in the transition stage from friends to lovers), but he’s thankful that you seem to find it sweet.
he loves your face when you’re awake, so full of life and excitement that he can’t help but match when you’re both alone in the comfort of each other. the pretty smiles you’ll give him make his heart pump just a bit faster, the lovesick in your eyes after he kisses you… he wouldn’t trade it for the world. he’d do anything to keep you happy.
he loves your face when you’re asleep, too. especially after you’ve had a rough day. you look so serene and peaceful. even if you do drool or think you’re less than flattering, he always thinks you’re the most stunning thing ever. he loves when you scrunch your nose in your sleep, and he always places a hand on your cheek to smooth it out. he adores the look on your face as you slowly wake up and blink at him before cuddling into him further and sighing as you fall back asleep.
megumi loves when you get a bit clingy. everyone is a bit surprised when they see how all over each other the two of you can be (at least, as much as he is willing to show in public- which isn’t much, but for everyone else it’s huge) he loves it when you can’t help but wrap your arms around him because you missed him (you probably saw him less than an hour ago).
he adores the way you refuse to let him get out of bed on weekends, insisting that you need your fix of “never-ending affection” from him before can start his day. and he loves giving it to you. he’ll start with peppering quick kisses all over your face, smiling against your skin when you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, not at all tempted to squirm away, but rather to pull him in for more.
he’ll be convinced to lay with you for a bit longer, of course, and do it without complaining. because at the end of the day, he loves to feel needed by you. he likes having you close to him more than he hates getting teased by his friends and gojo for being all soft.
believe it or not, he enjoys it when you initiate play fights with him. neither of you go all out- you do that enough on missions- so it’s just the two of you rolling around in bed, laughing and pinning the other down. he’ll pick you up and throw you back down, he’ll summon his demon dog to jump all over you so he can have the upper hand, just to keep you smiling. he knows physical affection is important to you, so why would he deny you of that? he never wants to make you feel like you’re not getting what you need from him.
megumi loves when you tease him. this surprises even him to this day, because he doesn’t like the feeling of getting worked up at all. but his working theory is that he enjoys the intimacy of it. you don’t tease him about every little thing, you know he doesn’t like that, but you do tease him about things hyper-specific to your relationship. for example: that one time he messed up the pronunciation of that word in an argument? you never let him live it down, but you’ll also never disclose the inside joke to anyone else. you might be a nuisance on purpose, but you’re also his number one defender when it comes to anyone else teasing him.
you also like to fluster him. poking him all over when you want attention, blowing air into his face when he leans in to kiss you… it’s all so fun for you. you’ll get close enough to his face to make him blush, you’ll tease that spot on the back of his neck that he’s never told anyone but you about, and he hates how easily you get to him, but he’ll tolerate it because he knows you’re just as easy to fluster as he is.
he loves to tease you back. as soon as you’re back in your room after a full day of not letting up on him, he’s got his arms wrapped around you, and he’s walking you backwards until your laying on the bed, staring up at him wearily… and then you’re screaming because his skilled hands are all over your sides, your ribs and your hips. and once you’re spent, he’ll lean in close to your ear and whisper his own teasing remarks (normally compliments he knows you’d have trouble accepting otherwise) to get you whining and mumbling out laughter-filled apologies he won’t be accepting any time soon.
yeah, megumi just loves you.
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hope you enjoyed!!! it’s a different format from my other fics so lmk if you’d want this with any other characters!!
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witchywithwhiskey · 15 days
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Hey hey! How about...
16. trying something new
With...😏
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first-time plant parents
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pairing: husband!ari levinson x female reader
warnings: domestic fluff, referenced smut (not really 18+ but i'd always rather minors do not interact!), kissing, little bit of dry humping, non-graphic sex, pet names (sunshine)
word count: 1,500ish
a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Navy!!! i have no excuse for this except i just think starting a vegetable garden with ari would be neat 🤷🏼‍♀️ this is so so so so self-indulgent but i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡
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You were surprised by how good it felt to get your hands dirty, your fingers sinking into the rich soil as you scooped some up and patted it down around the tomato seedling you’d just planted. Sitting back on your heels, you looked down the row of tomatoes you’d finished planting, a sense of accomplishment settling deep into your body and making you smile to yourself. 
But it seemed you weren’t the only one to take pride in your efforts, as a warm, familiar voice called, “Lookin’ good, sunshine,” from the other side of the small vegetable garden you and your husband had set up in your backyard. 
Lifting your eyes from the row of tomato seedlings you’d carefully planted, your gaze collided with that of your husband, Ari Levinson, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the bright spring sunshine. His grin was wide as he used a hand to push his golden brown hair back from his face, pride and affection shining in his gaze as he looked at you. 
Your smile widened in return, and you raised a hand to shade your eyes so you could see his progress. “How’re the herbs coming?” you asked, your eyes skimming along the basil, rosemary and mint you’d decided to plant. They were in their own planter boxes to ensure they didn’t overrun the garden, and it looked like your husband was done with the task. “They look good.”
You’d never had a vegetable garden before—at least, not one of your own. Your grandmother had one when you were little, your father taking you into the impressively large garden to show you where they’d planted spinach and tomatoes and green beans and rhubarb. 
But with that garden long since gone and both your grandmother and father having passed, you’d told Ari you wanted to try your hand at growing some veggies of your own. Your husband had been excited to try it, even though he had less experience than you.
But he’d jumped into it as eagerly as you, digging up a little plot in your backyard and setting up a fence so that the animals didn’t get to your herbs and veggies. The garden was bigger than the meager crop you’d decided to plant that first year—just the herbs, your tomatoes and some spinach—but Ari said the two of you would grow into it.  
“Do they look as good as your husband?” Ari asked teasingly, drawing you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. 
You couldn’t help but smile as you got to your feet, brushing your hands off on your shorts and picking your way across the garden to your husband. You bent down to look at the planter boxes, making a show of assessing his work in planting the herbs. When you’d drawn it out long enough, you stood back up and looked to your husband, having to stifle a laugh when you saw he’d somehow managed to get streaks of dirt across his forehead.
“They look better than you,” you said, barely contained laughter making your voice waver as you reached up and tried to brush the dirt from Ari’s forehead, asking, “How did you manage to get dirt here?” However, since your hands were also covered in dirt, you only managed to make things worse. Ari laughed at your wince of apology. 
“I think you’ve got a little something, too,” he said playfully, brushing his dirty fingers over the tip of your nose. You were certain you didn’t have any dirt on your nose, which meant he’d just gotten you dirty for no good reason.
Gasping in mock outrage, you jumped back as he reached for your face again, knocking his hand away. “Don’t get me more dirty than I already am!” you cried, but you were laughing as you fended off your husband’s filthy, reaching hands. 
You danced around the garden, trying to avoid Ari and your plants, but after a few moments, you decided to go on the offensive. “Let’s see how you like getting dirty!” you yelled, darting close to your husband and swiping your fingers across Ari’s cheek, leaving behind a new streak of dirt above the line of his beard. 
However, Ari didn’t let you escape, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hauling you up against his chest. “Do your worst, sunshine,” he challenged, laughing right along with you. 
Since his hands were busy holding onto you and yours were free, you brushed even more dirt on his cheeks, giggling as you got him even dirtier. But it wasn’t long before your giggles died down and the two of you were left pressed against one another, your chests heaving as you caught your breath and stared into each other’s eyes.
You could feel your body warming, which seemed to be a natural reaction to your husband’s closeness, your nipples tightening and heat sinking low to settle in your core. Squirming in Ari’s arms, you could feel your expression change, your eyes turning pleading as an aching need built up in your body.
“Stop looking at me like that, sunshine,” Ari rumbled, a gruff warning in his tone. You could feel his body responding to you, his arousal digging into your belly and making your legs tremble beneath you. “Or I’m liable to take you right here—garden be damned.”
Ari’s words sent new tendrils of heat curling through your body, even as they knocked some sense into you and you managed a playful gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as you pretended to be scandalized. “Not in front of the plants, Ari,” you scolded, your tone more flirtatious than chastising. 
Your husband grinned, squeezing you tighter, and ducked down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that had you melting against his chest. Your fingers dove into Ari’s beard, clinging to him and holding him close while you devoured each other. When you whimpered into the kiss and rocked your body against Ari’s bulge, he pulled away with a groan.
“Sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and drawing in deep, heavy breaths that pushed his chest against yours in the most delicious way. “If you don’t want our little seedlings exposed to our dirty deeds so early in their lives, you’re gonna have to let me take you inside now,” he murmured in a serious tone, but you could see the corners of his mouth flickering with his need to grin. “Because the idea of seeing you blissed out and satisfied in the garden we made is sounding better by the second.”
“Then take me inside, husband,” you said huskily, a smirk tugging at the edges of your lips, “because you are not fucking me the dirt.”
Wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck, Ari held you still while he kissed you again, his tongue plundering your mouth until your mind was fuzzy and you’d mostly forgotten where you were. You knew that had been Ari’s intention when his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping and kissing your skin until his mouth brushed the edge of your ear.
“What if I made love to you in the grass?” he rumbled teasingly, bending down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip so he could press his bulge into the apex of your thighs. His grunt was loud in your ear, but it didn’t drown out the low, filthy moan that slipped from your lips.
Still, you weren’t so far gone that you’d let Ari have his way with you just anywhere. “What about the shower?” you countered, your voice high-pitched and breathy, making your husband chuckle as he kissed down your neck. 
Then you were shrieking in surprise and delight as Ari hauled you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you into the house to finish what you’d started. He took you in the shower, the two of you laughing as much as you kissed, taking turns washing the grime of dirt from each other’s skin before sinking into the familiar rhythm of your bodies coming together.
Later, when you were both sated and clean and the sun was sinking lower toward the horizon, you stood in the grass outside the fence of your humble little vegetable garden. Ari stood at your back, his arms circling your waist and holding you close as you both took pride in the work you’d accomplished that day. 
“Do you think we’ll be good first-time plant parents?” you asked softly, your fingers trailing idly through the hair on Ari’s arms. Tilting your head to the side, you wondered if you’d watered the newly transplanted seedlings enough to make the transition easier for them.
“I think we’ll do our best,” Ari murmured, curling his body around yours and pressing a kiss to your temple while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. “I think we’ll give them all the love they need, and I think they’ll flourish because of it.” 
A pleased smile curved your lips and you hummed in agreement, leaning back further against Ari, knowing your husband spoke the truth. After all, you’d done the same with each other—you’d given each other all the love in your hearts and both of you had flourished. Ari was your partner, your husband, the love of your life, and you wouldn’t want to be first-time plant parents with anyone but him.
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sxcret-garden · 8 months
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Seonghwa ღ 6:14pm [M]
ღ Ateez Seonghwa x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~800 ღ genre: smut (dom!Seonghwa, overstimulation, oral (reader receiving), a bit of hair pulling (idol receiving)) ღ warnings: none
Desc.: in which your boyfriend Seonghwa overstimulates you as he can't stop eating you out
Author’s note: i feel like every atz smut writer should write at least one fic about seonghwa using his tongue on reader in all the best ways lol - so here’s mine~
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Your juices glistening on his lips, he looks up at you from in between your shaking legs. With a smooth lick of his tongue he cleans himself up a bit, while you're trying to withstand the intense gaze in his darkened eyes.
"One more, baby," he mutters, placing a soothing kiss onto the inside of your thigh, but you can only whine in response, mind still clouded from the last orgasm he has given you.
"N-no, please... no more..." you babble as all strength has left you. "Can't take more..."
"I know you can," Seonghwa mutters and you feel his warm breath hitting your core. You whine at his words, your fingers tangled in his hair clenching around the strands as he carefully draws near again. A single lick of his tongue up between your folds has you crying out his name from the overstimulation and the pleasure, and tears are beginning to well up in your eyes. "Taste so sweet..." he mumbles, lips moving against your sensitive core and you try to escape his touches. However, with how he's quick to wrap his arms around your legs in order to get a hold of your hips, he manages to keep you in place. "I could do this all day..." he continues speaking. "Making you cum in my mouth over and over again."
"Seonghwa..." you breathe out his name as you dare to take another glance down on yourself to meet his stare.
"You like it too, don't you?" Your boyfriend is smirking now, perking up one eyebrow as he shoots you a challenging look. "When I make you cum like this until you can't walk anymore." The words hit you right in the gut, and despite your fucked out state you feel a wave of heat rushing to your core once again and all you can do is whine. Because he's right - you love it when he makes a mess out of you like this, you love it when he proves to you that he can drive you insane with only his tongue, and you love it when he doesn't stop until he's satisfied, even when you feel like you can't possibly take another round.
"P-please..." you mewl without any clear intent, but your boyfriend latches onto it as if there was no tomorrow.
"Please what?" he repeats. "Do you want me to stop?"
"N-no..." you manage to say.
"Then what... do I get to taste you one more time, beautiful?" Warmth exploding in your chest upon hearing the petname, you can't but whine some more.
"Please... just have me."
"With pleasure," Seonghwa whispers, and without losing even the fraction of a second, he dives back in. You wince and shiver under his touch that's both so sweet and so overstimulating, and you know there's no way you would last long with how well he knows your body by now and how skillfully he uses his tongue. Lips wrapping around your clit, he sucks on it rather carefully, soft touches being more than enough to get you racing towards your next high at this point. And whenever he feels you trying to move around and to escape him in his grip he lets go for a second, giving you some time to breathe and then switching up his motions. His tongue lapping at your folds and drinking up your sweet taste, he soon reaches the point where he just can't stop himself anymore. Letting his wet muscle dive into your hole, you clench around it, and when the tip of his nose rubs against your clit, you cry out from the pleasure and a tear rolls down your face. 
"B-baby... won't last long... p-please...!" you whimper an incoherent sentence, but Seonghwa knows exactly how to handle you, even in a state like this. Pumping his tongue in and out of you and simply leaving it up to chance for when his nose brushes against your sensitive bud, he has you rolling your eyes back from all the sensations coursing through your body soon enough. And just when he moans at the way your juices are coating his lips and tongue, you tip over the edge, your high shaking you violently as you tear at his locks. 
Coming down from what's most likely your last orgasm for the day, you feel all strength leaving you at once, calmness washing over you as Seonghwa crawls towards you in order to wrap you into a safe embrace. 
"You did well, baby," he whispers as he caresses the skin on your arm and he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "Did I make you feel good?" 
"Y-yes..." you mumble, no power left behind your voice. "Made me feel amazing..."
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shibaraki · 1 year
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TURNING PAGE ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU
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tags: GN reader, quirk accident (dubcon <- just to be safe), pining, friends to lovers, a tiny bit of angst, so much fluff, requited feelings, confessions of love
wc: 1.3K
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Deku got hit with a quirk mid battle. You have long since learnt that assuming the worst before receiving more information isn’t helpful. Injuries and accidents are an inevitability in your line of work— if you started panicking every time a friend got hurt you’d send yourself to an early grave.
Love drunk, they called it. A quirk that inebriated it’s victims with overwhelming feelings of affection and lowered their inhibitions to a resounding zero. It was harmless, if not a little embarrassing, and it explained why the nurse you spoke to had steam coming out of her ears.
Getting Izuku back to his apartment was the hardest part. You couldn’t make it two minutes without him stopping to express his admiration. Always some innocuous thing; how the beech tree foliage dappled the sunlight, or a flock of birds danced in synchrony, or an elderly woman with a small dog travelled in her walker.
When he caught sight of Bakugo’s victorious snarl plastered across a billboard you had to fight tooth and nail to take his devices away, lest he start wailing down the phone about how proud he is.
That particular moment spiralled into an incoherent rant about what the word ‘best friend’ means to him and why it felt redundant— lacking, in a sense. “It’s not enough,” he slurred, a myriad of tears bubbling at his waterline that he valiantly tries to blink away. “I just care about them so much”.
You had almost lost your footing as he slung an arm around your shoulder, nose squished up against your temple and oblivious to the heat prickling over your cheeks. You count your blessings. At least it hadn’t been a sex quirk. Izuku loves hard and he feels with his whole body. You’re not sure you could handle him at lust. To get a taste of that would be irreversible; no doubt hurtful. This is difficult enough.
When you make it to his apartment Izuku seems to realise that if he releases the tension keeping him upright you’ll have to hold him at the waist and take his weight. Your abdomen clenches— his lips brush over the shell of your ear, muttering quiet praises, and a shiver rolls through you. You wished he would shut up and you wished he wouldn’t; your eyes, your laugh, your intelligence, your hands, the way your hips move, how you dance when you think nobody is looking, the smile you save for him, your courage and wit— you’ve heard enough.
It hurts.
You manage to get him to his bedroom. He's drunk, fumbling like he’d forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. You press your lips thin and try not to laugh as he struggles with the apparent loss of dexterity.
Izuku laughs as you drop him unceremoniously onto his bed and the sound is incredible. Soft, drunken, wholehearted fits of giggles. Pink splotches bloom up his neck and cheeks, his body pliant in honeyed repose. Mossy curls stark against the cotton sheets. Izuku holds out his arms and makes childish grabby motions with his fingers.
“C’mere,” he murmurs with a tone too intimate for your heart. A voice meant for lovers. Thoughts zip through your mind a mile a minute. What on earth do you do with your hands when everything you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you? You’re shaken by the gravity of it.
Your conscience whispers that this isn’t real. The quirk will wear off in a few hours. Izuku will stutter through a red faced apology and return to a normal you’ll never be wholly satisfied with.
The silence draws longer than intended. Your tongue sits heavy behind your teeth. You don’t know what to do with yourself, but Izuku is merciless. He pushes up onto his hands with a dissatisfied hum and scoots to the edge of the bed. A fragile breath is caught in your chest when you feel his palm smooth up your calf, cupping the back of your knee, his thumb stroking back and forth.
Izuku presses the flat of his throat against your midsection, his chin between your ribs. He looks up, detailing the subtleties in your face, eyes squinted and hazy; you aren’t sure what to do with the wonder in them, how unashamed he's being. You’ve seen it somewhere before. Stupid man. It’s a look saved for art museums or a full moon or the love of your life. Not— not you.
“You’re so unfair,” you tell him.
Thick in his mouth, he asks, “Did I do something wrong?”
Innate as breathing, your hands find his cheeks, seeking to reassure him before you realise what you’re doing, and he pins you in place with the most benevolent little noise.
Curse the quirk database. There had been next to no information about the quirk beyond its surface effects. You had no way to know whether the quirk conjured feelings of love, twisted them or amplified that which already existed.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” you affirmed, emphasised by the squashing of his cheeks. It forces his full lips into a pout. Izuku watches you, wide eyed and fraught. You exhale shakily and his head moves with the motion. “I promise”.
“But you look so sad,” he replies nasally. His fingers curled into your thigh, the other hand coming up to wrap around your wrist. Your eyes sting and you can’t help but to laugh at his swollen jutted mouth.
He responds well— practically glittering, sitting up straighter as though you had breathed new life into him. “I love it when you laugh,” he professed. “I love—”
“So you’ve said”.
Izuku frowns deeply. The strength behind his grip increases and it forces your knee to bend, bracing on the mattress beside his hip. It knocks you off balance, hands sliding down to his shoulders as you right yourself. “Izuku—?”
“You don’t believe me,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The world tilts on its axis and suddenly you are laid on your back, trapped by firm muscle. A leg slots between yours, locking in place; thick arms snake around your shoulders and bring you into his embrace.
Izuku holds you in the crook of his body and you fit like a missing half.
The collar of his shirt slips forward. Your eyes skim the shadows leading to his chest— sparse dark hair between his pecs, muscle pushed together to form a soft cleavage. You’re swathed in heat and the smell of his shampoo. Blood rushes loud in your ears as his adam’s apple bobs and he dips to nuzzle your cheeks together.
“Oh”. A mumble breaks the silence whilst you try to regain your bearings. “You think it’s the quirk, right?”
“It is the quirk, Izuku”.
“Silly. That’s silly. I always feel like this when I’m with you,” he vowed tipsily. Your heart aches and you want to cry.
“Then let’s sleep,” you lift your head, ignoring his small complaint, and meet his gaze. “Sleep for a few hours and tell me again”.
Something flits across his expression; brief and quick, leaving as swiftly as it came, mellowing into contentment. Face smooshed into the pillow, Izuku smiles happily, readjusting his hips to align with yours.
You do not sleep. You stay awake listening to his shallow breathing, the snuffling noises he makes, laughing quietly to yourself whenever his muscles jolt. You count every eyelash, every freckle, memorise the pattern of his scars— the faint lines that are only ever visible in summer when his skin has a little more colour. You soak in how his chest moves against yours, how his arms tighten if you try to pull away.
When he begins to stir, you close your eyes and brace for the impact. What comes next is this:
The tentative press of his lips to your forehead. A gentle whisper of your name. You peer up at him and his sheepish smile widens, entirely unchanged from the hours before.
“I really love it when you laugh,” he blurted, flushing from head to toe.
Hope flares in your chest, spirit buoyed. “So you’ve said,” you breathe.
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zordanna · 27 days
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𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮
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A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃
English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?
Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.
“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”
She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.
“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”
Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.
“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”
Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.
“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.
“The feeling is mutual”
She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.
“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”
His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!
On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 
Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.
Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.
Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.
Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.
“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”
He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 
Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.
And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.
He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…
Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.
He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 
He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.
Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.
For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.
“Hey…Birdie”
The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.
The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.
“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”
Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.
“No more like a goose.”
Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.
“Ouch- did I snore loud?”
“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”
Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 
“Was I annoying you?”
“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.
“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”
She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.
The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.
Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 
It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.
Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.
Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.
Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.
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grippingbeskar · 1 year
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: ̗̀➛ joel miller x fem!reader
warnings: explicit content 18+ (mxf, f receiving, dirty talk, joel being a king as per usual) swearing, mentions of death, mentions of canon typical violence!
a/n: hii! this was based on this request right here - oh my god. i am obsessed with this, i really hope i did this justice! i kind of just started writing and went where it took me lmao. its all just smut at this point so like don't look to hard. also thank you to @everybirdfellsilent for the title name and answering my question "how do i write this?" with a simple "why not write both?!" you are a queen.
✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩
“Joel… what time is it?” You keep your eyes screwed shut when you begin to fight the muddiness of deep sleep away, but the early morning sunlight in Jackson always sneaks it’s way through. You stretch out, reaching for him in a natural reflex, and instead of answering you he just presses closer. You keep your eyes shut, letting your other senses guide your hands to his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him under your palms.
You could hardly open your eyes right now, but you could do this. Lay here with him— you could do that easily. You and Joel had a string of long days recently, and you’d hoped, or at the very least expected that he’d be so tired he’d sleep up until the last possible second.
Apparently you were wrong, as you feel him shift under your hands to the point you lose your hold on him. He kisses you once on the lips, light and feather soft, and you smile sleepily, toes curling at the gentle touch.
“Mornin’.” His voice rumbles through you, low and brassy, waking your bones before your brain could catch up. As his hair tickles the skin of your neck, you can feel him moving lower, the warmth of his body leaving your chest and hovering over your stomach.
You reach for him blindly, and he guides you back even when you sit up on your elbows and peak one eye at him. You watch him move, his own eyes still half lidded, but his hands more awake than ever. They slowly slide over your hips, drawing faint patterns with his fingertips. The warmth of his rough palms move further up over your tummy, pawing at you to lay down on your back. ‘Relax’, he whispers, and your chest tightens. He moves you languidly, using your half conscious state to mould you where he wants to put you, and you let him, no resistance in your muscles.
With a hand still sliding up and down your bare skin, he leans down close enough you can feel the touch of his nose on your cheek. Before you can move to take control, he dips his head. First down to your jaw, the heat of his mouth making you shiver when he kisses along all the sensitive spots. He’s light and quick, your delayed reactions making it easy for him to move without interruption. You wonder how long he’d been awake. Waiting for you to stir, just so he could see you squirm.
His tongue licks indulgent lines further down your body, teasing your skin with his lips following suit. He starts at your collarbone, then tucks the fabric of your shirt higher so he can see you bare below him. The blanket covers over his head, but the light is strong enough that you can see his eyes watching your reaction as he plants soft kisses down your chest. You swear he smirks when you arch your back, nearly groaning at the light but not nearly enough pressure.
Your hands finally wake themselves when he mouths at the skin of your lower stomach, brushing through the soft curls on the top of his head. He hums against you, eyes flicking up with warmth lining them, and smiles slightly. The sight tugs at a string of your racing heart, and you keep your voice low when you manage to speak.
“Joel, let me…” You fade off, eyes fluttering as you attempt to bring him back up to you. You want him to feel good too— so as much as you love where this is going, you know the two of you can’t have very long this morning, and you want to make the most of it. “C’mere.”
He shakes his head, mouth too busy to reply as it dives into the newly exposed skin of your thighs. At some point he’d taken your underwear off— or maybe he’d done it in your sleep, making sure you were ready for him in the morning.
You’d both been exhausted last night, so as badly as you’d wanted him, you knew neither of you could keep your eyes open for more than twenty seconds. Joel had grumbled a few curse words at how he couldn’t even hold himself up, and as soon as your heads hit the pillow, and you curled in on his chest light a weighted blanket, you were both out like a light.
Joel was clearly making up for lost time. Slowly, he spreads your legs, his hot breath fanning against your core. The feeling makes you unconsciously try to close yourself from him— the feeling and the way his eyes were staring so intensely at the most intimate part of you.
“Joel, come here—“ You try again, and his hair brushes the inside of your thighs when his head shakes again. His eyes look to you, and they almost look… pleading.
“Please, baby. I need this. Let me.” He sounds half broken— his voice cracking and hands gripping your hips. His hold wasn’t harsh, still keeping those gentle, sweet touches he’d started with, but it was enough to hold you down and keep you right where he had you. “I’ll make you feel so good, I swear. So… so fuckin’ good. Don’t I always?”
His shoulders press you open wider, leaving no room for insecurity. You just nod your head as he stares up at you, wide eyed, waiting for permission. The lines of concern in his forehead disappear when he sees you agree, chest deflating like he was relieved.
He drags the tip of his nose lightly along your inner thigh, and you can feel your legs already shaking in anticipation. It was one thing Joel did so well; he almost didn’t know he did it. Making you wait. All day, he would work you up so subtly— soft touches, intense stares across the field. Words whispered only to you, so any reaction you had would seem out of line. And then here… indulging his every want and need while you sat patiently, waiting for him to decide when, and where, and how.
You’d do it over and over again, because you knew what came of it. What came when you did exactly what he wanted. Sometimes it was fun to fight him back, be a bit of a brat about it, but right here, when he was working you up so nice and asking so desperately— there wasn’t a damn thing in the world worth that.
“Fuck, baby you’re so pretty.” His teeth replace his nose, tracing the same line along the opposite thigh. His fingers massage circles into your hips as he feels you fidget and shake, the world still spinning slowly above you. “You’re gonna take it so well for me this mornin’, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah. A-anything you want. I just—“ Your breath hitches when he kisses closer to where you’re all but aching for him, right in the join between your leg and pussy. “I need—“
He groans into you, never giving you a chance to finish your sentence as he buries his tongue between your legs. You cry out louder than you mean to, the hand not buried in Joel’s messy hair slapping over your open mouth. Joel smiles against you, tongue swirling around your clit in the way he knows makes you dizzy with pleasure.
Everything was too hot. It was winter in Jackson, snow falling gently onto the windowsill, but the blanket over you mixed with the heat Joel was spreading up your stomach was too much. Your back arched and he took the change in direction with eagerness. Groaning your name, he flattened his tongue and caught your eyes before they rolled back into your head, his eyebrows furrowed and concentrated.
“Oh, god… Joel. Joel, Joel—“ It was all you could think of to say, the pleasure shooting white hot sparks up your spine and sliding you further down the bed into Joel’s onslaught.
He was messy. Joel ate you out with an enthusiasm you never found anywhere else. Maybe it was the fact that there was nothing good outside the four walls you’d both found yourself in, the rest of the world cold compared to the warmth of your bed— or maybe he just fucking loved it as much as he always said.
Whether he did this for you or for himself, Joel knew exactly how to build you up; it was so quick you couldn’t prepare for it. His hands held your hips tight as you squirmed— grinding your hips forward to match his pace as he let you use him to chase your release. The sounds he was making were only spurring you closer— slurred words of praise hardly audible, his voice horse and breaking like he could hardly manage them.
“Good— fuck, you taste good.” Each word is muffled underneath you, but it hits you hard in the chest. Being praised by anyone made your heart flutter, but when it was Joel? Capable, stoic, hard-as-nails Joel? It was entirely different. A whole other ball game. And he fucking knew it. “You close, baby. Fuck, I know you gotta be. So tight…”
“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m so close…” You whimper and he hums in response, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. Your fingers gripped his hair harshly, his mouth only working harder to keep its lock on you. He wrapped his lips around your clit, eyes fluttering open halfway to watch you, and the sight is what undid you.
“That’s it. Fuck, there’s those eyes…” You hear Joel mutter but you can’t form words to reply. Everything was on fire, your stomach locking tight as the waves of pleasure wrapped you into a ball and burst over every inch of skin. It was cliche, but it felt like fucking fireworks went off in your chest, Joel’s hands an anchor keeping you from taking off with them.
He was halfway up your body when you came back to it, kissing and touching you so gently you could have cried if you had the energy. It was moments like these that he was the most vulnerable— where he couldn’t get enough of you, indulged himself in you, but did it with such sweetness and… well, love, that you knew the man he didn’t think he was anymore was still in there.
“So pretty. Sound so damn pretty when you cum for me.” He whispers against your mouth before kissing you hungrily. It’s teeth and tongue, a mix of you and him on your lips as he pulls away to look at you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.
Your hands reach down to tug lightly at his boxers, and he huffs, shaking his head against your mouth.
“M’not done, baby.” His voice makes you shiver all over again, pleasure still stirring low and hot in your tummy. “S’fuckin’ good.”
“I can’t, Joel…” You whimper, his hand ever so slightly brushing between your legs. You jolt upwards, your body betraying your words.
“Yeah, you can. You can f’me, yeah?” He was already moving down, ignoring your whines as he made his way back to his favourite spot in this house. He was quicker this time, knowing you’d still be sensitive.
It was addicting. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made, the way you tasted— it was like the best game he’d ever played. Joel was an adrenaline junkie— he knew it. He was smart about it, but he longed for that rush of endorphins when he was winning a fight or putting bullets into bodies. Out of all the shit he’d done, though, nothing compared to this. The best adrenaline rush he’d ever felt was right here, hearing you scream his name as he tasted every fucking inch you of he could manage.
He was messier this time. Wrapping his mouth around you and swirling his tongue in quick, mind-numbing movements that had your fingers burying deeper into his hair. He nearly came at the feeling of it— you, trying your hardest not to hurt him but still yanking him into you, hardly giving him an inch to pull away. Not that he’d every fuckin’ dream of being dragged away from you now.
“Joel… too much. Fuck— I’m…I—“ He bucked his hips against the mattress, the way you whine his name is like a stab at his chest every time. His nose brushes against your clit again as he tastes you deeper, your voice broken and tapering off into barely there words.
He knows you’d stop him if it was really too much. He knows if he pulled away right now you’d drag him right back where he wants to be, where he knows he’s fucking good at being. Joel wants you closer— all day, he can’t fucking find it in himself to drag you under his arm or kiss you like he wants in front of all those people.
He was too possessive.
None of them get to see you like this, how your eyes get all soft when he kisses you, and how you sigh his name when your body moulds to his. No one else gets to see this. He’s the only one that can break you like this. So when he has you? He doesn’t stop until you make him.
“Just a little more f’me.” Joel’s low, cracking tone sends a violent wave of pleasure skittering across your stomach, butterflies erupting at the sound of him.
His movements weren’t timed anymore, still just as indulgent, but he was losing his control. His hands were tighter now, fighting against the surges of your body off the mattress. You hoped it would leave marks behind— proof of how badly he’d needed you this morning. How much he wanted you to Stay. Put.
“Baby, I can’t—“ You choke out, a hold on his hair so hard you swear you might rip it out.
“Mmhmm.” Is all he rumbles against you, and you think he speeds up, or does something different, or maybe he just looks at you again— because you drown in the onslaught of whatever it was as you feel the familiar rush of pleasure all over again.
This was something different. Everything tightened and released, and you could feel how wet you were— a damp mess underneath you only present when you could feel your heart begin to slow again. Joel doesn’t move from his spot, arms still wrapped around your thighs, fingers drawing slow circles into the shaking muscles.
“God, baby. Fuckin’… never get tired of seein’ that.” He wasn’t looking at you, at anything really. His eyes were shut, forehead pressed to your inner thigh as he tried and failed to catch his breath. “You feel good? You there?”
“Mm.” You push out, feeling the warmth of his laugh between your legs. “Can’t… can’t feel my legs.”
“S’okay. You’re not goin’ anywhere.” His eyes open again, half lidded, and he begins a slow descent, mouthing the bruises he’s left behind as he sinks down. Your back bends off the bed, but he presses you down with a gentle hand. “Lie back.”
“Joel… wait, I can’t. I—“ You can’t talk between small, shuddering breaths, and he just shakes his head, looking at the mess you’ve left behind.
“Keep sayin’ that, but here you are.” He stops, hovering over your stomach; waiting. Waiting for you to tell him to stop for real.
“Lemme keep goin’, darlin’. Just a little…” He groans at the way your hips shift lower, closer to his mouth despite your words. “Fuck. Little more. Need this.”
His nose brushes against your clit as he looks up, holding your eyes as he spits slowly down your centre.
“You like it, don’t you?” He says, a smile on his face even when his voice wavers. You whine, maybe in protest or impatience, but he coos at you either way. “I know. Shh. I know, baby. Just stay right…here.”
You think you black out when his mouth wraps around you again, sounds and colours all blending together in your mind in a way that nothing makes sense except for the way his tongue feels on you. Minutes or hours could go by— every responsibility you might have drifting to the back burner when he was here. Right here.
“M’right here. Never lettin’ you go.” He groans, his hips grinding into the soft covers, and you give in, knowing he’s got you.
✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩‧₊ ₊‧ ✩ ੈ * ⚬ ʚ♡ɞ ⚬ * ੈ✩
It might of been a good morning, but it was another shitty day.
Winter in Jackson was good and bad. Good, because clickers and runners couldn’t make their way through the thick snow, and froze before they ever got close to the gates. It meant less patrols, less waste of resources, less need for supply runs; it was the closest to normal you got.
Bad, because while clickers weren’t made for the heavy fall of winter, neither were the fucking fences.
Everything broke down, cracked and froze during winter. There wasn’t a single area that didn’t need repairs, so while you weren’t needed on patrols, it meant you’d be out in the field, dragging plywood or banging nails into something. Even with all the hours you'd spent on your area, it felt like there was still miles to go, your hands aching by the time you found a minute to rest.
You could see Joel the entire day, too, which only made it worse for your wandering mind.
You could see him getting pissed off, ordering the young guys he’d been posted with around and up ladders. You know he’d want to relieve all that built up tension when he got home. Sometimes it was a matter of talking it out, listening in a way Joel wasn’t really used to before you. Other times you sat in silence, pressed up behind him in a steaming bath until you could hear his breath start to slow.
Today, you had a feeling it would be something a little different.
You hadn’t gotten to continue things at all this morning. By the time Joel dragged himself away from between your legs, he was already 45 minutes late to his post. Still, he walked you into the shower, holding you up on wobbly legs, trying his best not to get too distracted with how you kept kissing his jaw and looking up at him all innocent. He managed to get you dressed, too, and with no time to spare he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and all too suddenly you were standing out in the snow, alone.
So that, and the fact you could see, and sometimes even hear his low voice grumbling orders all day was doing nothing to help your focus.
When you finally saw the sun begin to go down, you didn’t spare a second before you all but sprinted off, bursting through the door of your shared home. You quickly shook off your clothes, the warmth of your house making you strip down to just one of Joel’s old t-shirts. Now, you waited.
When the door burst open a few hours later, you were like a dog hearing a lead. You jumped out of the bed, watching Joel from the top of the stairs as he carefully stepped through the threshold. He’d found the carpets laying on your floor for you a few months ago, and he knows how much you love them, so he balances on one leg as best he can to take his muddy, snow covered shoes off before he called out to you.
“You home, darlin’?” He kept his voice soft in case you were sleeping, but smiled when he caught you basically hanging over the stairs. “There she is.”
“You’re late.” You say, squinting down at him with a smile and your arms crossed.
“Didn’t realise I had a curfew.” He smirked, shaking off his jacket and abandoning it over the couch. Playful Joel was one of your favourites. It made you as warm as the crackling fire behind you.
“Well, you do. And you’re late, so better get moving.” He raises his eyebrows, a bigger smile playing on his face as he walks to the bottom of the stairs.
“You know, I was gonna cook you dinner and everythin'. Do a real nice thing here. How longs it been since we did that?” He walks slow, every step groaning under the weight of him. Your heart swells at the idea, and if you weren’t so hell bent on jumping on him, you’d take him up on it.
"That sounds n-nice." You take a step back as he gets closer, something about him still intimidating you- even when you knew the man underneath. “Plenty of time to eat tomorrow, though."
When he finally clears the stairs, you don’t have time to blink before he’s surging in front of you. His hands find their home on your hips, staying light when they pull you toward him and make up the rest of the small distance between you. He must remember how hard he held you down this morning.
“Is that my shirt?” He mumbles into your hair, already knowing the answer. He nudges your face to his own, smirking confidently. "You miss me that bad?"
“Nope. It’s Mark’s from today. I just got sooo hot lifting all those planks of wood I had to take all my clothes off, so he—“ You’re cut off by your own squeal when he lifts you up, hands gripping your ass tightly.
“Very fuckin’ funny.” Joel growls low in your ear, but you can feel him smiling against your skin as he walks you to your bedroom, kissing you dizzy.
It’s a little embarrassing how easily he drives you to the brink. All he has to do is say your name a few times, whisper it against your skin, and kiss you like this, and you’re gone again. His. You’re his to mould and bend, your arms lifting as he drags the fabric of his old shirt up your stomach and chest.
He watches with an intense stare, goosebumps rising where the fabric brushes lightly over your sensitive skin. When he finally slips the shirt over your head his control snaps and he’s on top of you, and he’s everywhere.
His hands slide up your sides, spanning the entire space of your waist and ribs, coming over your chest and cupping your breasts in his hands. You arch your back, chasing his mouth as it presses hungry, quick kisses between movements, his fingers catching over your nipples making you moan his name.
“Thought about you all day.” You confess, nipping the skin of his jaw. He huffs a breath, your hands tangling once again in his hair. It’s still slightly wet from the cold, curling around your fingers in something like ringlets. “Needed you so bad, Joel.”
“Greedy little thing. Didn’t get enough this morning?” He laughs, and it's almost mean- teasing. You roll your hips into him slowly. It wipes the smirk off his face, turning it into an almost painful scrunch of his brow. “Fuck.”
“You didn’t let me touch you.” You whine, rolling into him again. He drops to hold himself up on his forearms, hands touching you where they can reach. “Always want to touch you, Joel.”
“Shit, you gotta stop talking like that or…” You repeat the slow movement of your hips, and he runs out of words, practically whining into your mouth.
“It’s true.” You bite his bottom lip, a little harder than necessary. “Wanna fuck you all the time. It’s distracting. Always… always think about it.”
Joel moans your name brokenly, and you take your chance. A small push with your leg collapses him on his back next to you, only that easy because he wasn’t expecting it. He’s sitting with his back against the headboard, and before he can shuffle down you straddle him, locking him in place underneath you.
One of his hands grabs the back of your neck, hauling you to his mouth, and you let him take control. You might be sitting on top of him, fiddling with his belt and tugging his pants down, but he is still in control. You know he could flip the switch in a second, and he’s just indulging you, but you take what you can get.
It’s so rare he lets you take care of him. You could count on one hand how many times he’s really let you do the work, but when the opportunity comes, you were going to take it and run with it.
He was still searching your body, fanning out his fingers and running them down your spine, leaning you closer. He takes off his shirt so he can feel you against him, his tongue licking into your mouth like he needs to learn you inside and out. When you finally get his pants off, you don’t waste a second, both of you gasping when you feel the thick head of him against your heat.
“H-hold on, you gotta… Jesus Christ.” Joel curses, his forehead pressed to yours. “Let me get you ready for me.”
“Mm-mm. Ready. Please…need it.” You shake your head, angling your hips just right, and he slumps forward in something like defeat when your hand snakes down and presses him inside of you. “Oh, god.”
"Fuck. Slow down, baby. Nice and slow." He stutters out, his hands coming to your hips to try and hold you up. Joel was... big. Big enough to the point where you should of taken your time, worked yourself up a bit more, but you just wanted him so bad-- "Hey, look at me."
Your eyes flutter up to him, and he kisses you quickly, like its an apology. You stay there, feeling the slight sharp pain fade quickly with how desperate you want him, how fucking wet you were already. In a few seconds you try to move again, and Joel's hands tighten around you.
"You can stop, baby. It's okay, you--"
"No! Don't want to. Just... fuck me, Joel." You say a little harsher, shaking your head where its now tucked into the crook of his neck. You sink down further against the push of his hands, and he groans your name lowly as you feel him split you open, taking the last inch of him.
Your hands were still tangled in his hair, and where you were rendered speechless, he couldn't seem to shut himself up.
"Fuck. So fuckin' tight, Christ." You feel his palm on your ass, pushing you forward just slightly, creation a friction that has you whining. "Yeah, I know baby. Feels good. Fuck, you feel so good."
When you don't feel that pain anymore, you start to grow desperate for more. Joel was right. You were greedy tonight, and the friction of your hips against his just wasn't enough. You wrap your arms around his neck, shutting up his rambling with a lazy kiss, and use him to rise up just a little, before sinking down again.
He says something into your mouth, but the words are lost when you begin to repeat the same motion over and over again. Heat builds in waves, crashing higher and higher in your stomach until it makes your toes curl, your jaw dropping open to moan a broken version of Joel's name.
Your eyes roll back, head falling to the side, leaving you open to Joel's mouth who sucks harsh marks just below your jaw. You know you'll be covered in them tomorrow, but right now you don't care. You can't seem to care about anything else, except the way Joel is buried so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him everywhere.
"Focus on me. Need to see those pretty eyes, girl." He nudges you straight, your neck no longer able to support the weight of your head as it falls forward to rest on Joel. He groans again, matching your pace with his own movements, and you get louder with the added force. "Fuck, that's it. Let 'em hear you."
Everything turns molten inside of you, liquid heat spreading from the tips of your toes to your heavy head, and if Joel wasn't fucking you back so hard you don't think you'd be upright. As soon as he was inside you, you lost all sense of direction and control, like your body knew to trust him, to give yourself over to him.
His hands wrap tightly around your waist, bodies pressed together as he takes the work out of it for you. You move together— you’re so close you don’t have a choice, and when the hot, tingling feeling ripples up your spine you can only do exactly what he’s telling you.
“Take it, baby. Take it. Good— fuck, good girl.” His head drops from where it was pressed heavy against your forehead, dipping into the crook of your neck. Your palms can feel the release in his back, the way he relaxes as he finally gives himself to you. The noise he makes, and how he almost whines your name is a calling card, hauling you over the edge with him.
He rides it out. Makes it linger, all the pleasure and relief flooding your body in burning waves, and when his hips start to slow, his mouth trails kisses from your neck, all the way up your jaw and to your mouth. He breathes in when you breathe out, both of you wiped from exhaustion, but he can’t pull himself away.
It was like this morning, how even though his back was cramped and he was late as fuck to work, he couldn’t stop. At the expense of himself, he’d starve himself of everything if it meant being here with you.
“Christ, darlin’. Fuck, you’re so good t’me.” He says it like it’s a bad thing— words laced with an anxious wave, like you’d realise it wasn’t right, and leave. Even with him still buried inside of you. “Look at me.”
Your eyes blink open, hands still tangled in the curls of his hair. You can’t tell him all the things you want to— how he deserves this. How much you want to give him, and how if anything, you were the one who didn’t deserve this. Instead, you smile at him, and it seems to say everything all at once.
“You okay?" Joel's muffled voice asks, holding you tightly against him.
"Mhmm." You hum happily, a sleepy smile on your face as his hands cup your face. You feel his thumbs trace the high points of your cheeks, and his lips press to your nose before your eyes open.
You stay right there, his eyes watching you with no real purpose, just taking in the sight of you here with him. When the two of you finally muster the energy to go down stairs, Joel follows through with his promise to cook for you, and for this first time all day, your complete attention is captured.
2K notes · View notes
neopuppy · 9 months
Note
the jisung fic/hard hours…idk about everyone else but if it’s jisung i eat it up! like im blushing and giggling…it’s almost embarrassing 😅 I AM 100% ENCOURAGING YOU TO WRITE THAT!! if u want to ofc <333
*deep breath* alright….here we go
warning. omega Jisung+alpha y/n, thigh riding, messy orgasm
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“Jisung, I don’t fucking care that you’re not an Alpha.”
He stops abruptly, pinned under your hips, bridged over his stomach to diminish his chance of getting away. His fussing calms down long enough to lower your face into the crook of his neck. “This is why you never smell like anything?”
A struggled whimper pushes from the back of his throat, flinching at the contact as your nose grazes over his scent gland taking in deep inhales.
“Caramel, vanilla and caramel..”
Jisungs falls flat letting out a long deep sigh the more you take in the barely there hint of his Omegan scent, it’s faint, but enough to render you breathless as it traces past your tongue and fills your lungs. “You smell so..”
He flinches, reaching for your shoulders to push you away. His typical clumsiness and awkward behavior had surprised you, months of living a lie that had you convinced enough despite his abnormal mannerisms and traits.
The Omegas size over you swayed your apprehensive thoughts well enough, even now as he manages to overpower you enough to at least switch your positions in spite of your effort to keep him down.
“You have to stop!” Jisung says frantically, grabbing your wrists to pin by the sides of your head before you can take control over him again. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone!”
“You know I can’t do that, Omega.” You bristle, twisting your hips to push off the floor and free from his hold.
Jisung’s blown pupils dilate rapidly, grinding his teeth together in a panic as your thigh propels up and settles against his groin. “What do you want from me?” He gasps, sucking in a ragged breath. “Pack leader will have me killed.”
His grip on your wrists loosens enough to squirm your way out, inadvertently crushing your thigh between his legs to push yourself up into a sat position, circling around the same waist you always found oddly slim, too defined and miniscule for an Alpha. “You really think I’d let them touch you?”
Jisung’s cheeks flush, bright pink on the apples, a deeper shade of red making its way to his nose the more he succumbs to every desire he’s contained for so long now. Nights of shoving a towel between the crevice of his door, leaving his bedroom window open in hopes of not awakening any Alphas with his sweet delectable scent. Not even suppressants could stop him from biting into his fist, cock rubbed raw against his pillow for a petty taste of relief.
“There’s always been something about you.” Creeping beneath his shirt, you tickle across his back to the dip of his waist, greedily delving your fingers into the carved hollows until your thumbs nearly meet at his navel. “Too pretty for an Alpha.”
Jisung can’t stop the moan that draws out from his parted pouty mouth, left open to swallow in as much air as he can the more you inch closer to him until your chests stick together; heartbeats thrumming at a matched pace. “All this time wasted trying to convince myself that these sub-genders mean nothing.”
His head shakes, eyes wrinkling shut to stop tears from rolling down his cheeks. It’s useless from the moment your thigh nestled between his muscular limbs, bending at your knee to rut against his growing size in a rough manner. “When was your last heat?” You ask huskily, tracing up deep lines of lean muscle carved into his stomach. “It’s been a while hasn’t it baby? So desperate, humping against my leg like some pathetic pup.”
Jisung whines, dropping his face in heated shame as embarrassment scorches its way across his features. Even the tears streaming down his cheeks offer a cooling sense of relief as arousal and need for more take over his mind.
“Please,” he wheezes, arms thrown around your shoulders to lean his forehead against yours, panting out faster to match each adrenaline fueled pump of blood racing through his veins. “Don’t ask me, please.”
“That long?” You coo, smoothing your thumbs around his hardened perked nipples. “Think you can cum from this alone? Is that how long it’s been, pup?”
Jisung nods pitifully, bottom lip trembling as you tweak and pinch at his chest, tugging his peaked nipples roughly and successfully earning a chase from his hips. “So long Alpha.”
The whimpered cracks between his words hide his weak attempt to stay strong. Head too clouded by lust and the delicious abusive friction against his covered length. “More, need more than this.”
With thick pink lips hung open, he leans forward, nose to nose, blinking dumbly and whining. “Will you give me more? Touch me more?”
“Cum for me like this first.” Dragging your nails down his sides hard enough to leave stains of red behind, you grip around his narrow hips, firmly gathering the fabric of his jeans between your digits. “Wanna feel you make a mess on my thigh just like this, show me how good you listen.”
Jisung’s teeth chatter, biting down and shifting his weight lower on your thigh until the hot center between his legs sits half on your pelvis, hands moving to your shoulders to hold on tight and fuck against you in earnest.
“Is this what you wanted pup? What my Omega needed?”
He groans, eyes rolling back far enough to leave only the whites visible, long neck stretched back further enticing you to claim and ruin every pretty inch of clear smooth skin.
“Alpha, I’m—oh fuck, I’m cum—“ his hips jerk, gasping out harshly. Lower half thrashing against your thigh hard enough to leave marks and bruises behind. The rough texture of his boxers and jeans adding a different sensation with each rub and sloppy thrust.
“Cum for me.” You breathe, chest rising rapidly. “Pretty Omega, so pretty for me. Give it to me baby.”
Jisung gasps, stomach caving in as his limbs give out and he drops against your chest, losing his breath with the strike of powerful orgasm ripping through his body. The release drenching right through his bottoms and leaking out onto your thigh forming a huge stain of sugary wet slick and cum.
He’s easy to lay back down after, limp and dizzy, the exposed bottom half of his stomach twitching with the last bits of bliss exiting. Fresh tears have him blinking quickly, a dreamy gaze following your movements as you reach to unsnap the button of his jeans.
“Alpha..”
“Shh shh..” you whisper, slowly unzipping him. “Alpha wants a taste.”
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onlymingyus · 8 months
Text
Do Re Mi (70;teen Collab)
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pairing; wen junhui x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), fluff
warnings; unprotected sex, breeding kink, wife!reader, husband!jun, talk about having a baby, fingering, crying, mild dacryphilia, marking, scratching, cumplay, jun is able to lift the reader, there is a possibility i have missed some warnings
w/c; 4k and some change
70s;teen Collab Masterlist
a/n; hope you enjoy. this is my fic for the 70s:teen collab, please make sure you read all the other amazing fics on the masterlist! thank you to @onlyhuis and @wonwussy for proofreading.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
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Jun lets out a tired breath as he uses his heel to push the front door shut before leaning against it. It had been a long day and he had been longing for this moment at least half of the day. After countless hours of answering students’ questions and being at the beck and call of the professor, Jun was relieved to finally be safe in the home he shared with you. 
It didn’t matter to him that it was small or that the sinks leaked. It didn’t matter that the walls were thin and that the windows shook when the train went by. Because you didn’t have to travel for work, not when the apartment was right above the little record store you ran. The most important part was that no matter how many problems this place gave Jun, its biggest selling point was that you lived there with him. 
The sound of The Monkees causes Jun to smile a bit as he pushes off the wooden door stepping into the living room towards the sound. You were different from him and that was what made you so special in Jun’s eyes. Where he tried hard to be responsible, frugal, sensible. It oftentimes made him seem, to those on the outside, boring and reserved. 
You on the other hand were every bit a child of the times, a free spirit. A small breath of a laugh escapes Jun’s lips when he finally finds you in the kitchen. Your bare feet skate across the linoleum, a wooden spoon in your hand as you dance along with the music. The smell of the soup you were working so hard on filled the man’s nose and Jun finds himself falling even more in love with you.
There was no way that anyone could look at you and ever find you boring. To those who didn’t know you and Jun well, you two seemed like an impossible pair, but in truth, you were the reason he felt like he could breathe. You were the reason he knew how to dance. He was the reason you were stable. You were each other's balance. 
“Babe, you know how to make me smile. You know that?” 
Jun’s voice draws you out of your moment, but you don’t seem to mind. Instead, you find yourself unable to hide your enthusiasm. You could tell how tired he was, but the fact that he did this every day and still managed to make you feel like you were on top of the world every day showed how great of a man he was. 
Moving into his arms, you let the hand holding the spoon rest over his shoulder as you grip his loose tie resting under his sweater vest with the other to pull him down to your lips. Jun chuckles against your lips, his own hands finding your hips, fingers pressing into your flesh through your thin dress as he returns your kiss. 
“I missed you. Don’t leave me again. Quit your job, we can live off the land.” 
Laughing again, Jun gives you one last kiss having heard the same words from you every day for the past year. He wished he could tell you yes. As much as he’d love to spend everyday with you on some farm away from the city, he knew he didn’t want his studies to go to waste. 
“So tempting, but I have to take care of my pretty little wife. Start a family with her. You understand don’t you, my little bird?” 
Leaning back you just smile because it was almost the same conversation you shared every day and yet you never grew tired of it. You weren’t sure how you’d ever get tired of hearing Jun call you his wife or hearing how much he wanted to start a family with you. It seemed no matter how tight money was, that was still the most important thing to him in the world. 
“Mm, I do. Tell me about your day. The soup is almost done.” 
Jun lets you slip from his fingers though it feels like the most difficult thing he has done all day. Watching you move back to the stove, he leans against the counter with a small sigh before reaching up to undo his tie completely. His eyes never leave you though they move up and down your body as you still sway to the music. 
“It smells great. It was just another day at the university, honestly. I’m too pooped to pop. I’m sure some food and rest will do me some good.” 
You laugh at Jun’s words, shaking your head as you push the spoon through the mixture in front of you as it bubbles steadily. 
“You work too hard. You are a real catch, Jun. I got lucky, I know I should do more than the record store.” 
Shaking his head, Jun frowns a bit at your words. Pulling the tie from his neck, he wraps it around his hand as he speaks looking down at the red material. 
“Absolutely not. It makes you happy, I like you happy. We do alright. I won’t be an assistant forever. I’ll finish up this degree and I’ll be the professor. I’ll make bread. We’ll be more than comfortable. Don’t you worry about that. Promise?” 
Glancing over your shoulder, you let your eyes fall to Jun’s hands before you find his eyes so you can offer him a smile and a nod. You believed in him more than anyone in the world. 
“Yeah, of course. Go get changed. Not that I don’t like seeing you all decked out, but maybe being comfortable might help you relax.” 
Jun can’t help but grin at your suggestion. He knew you were right. Pushing away from the counter, he nods, stepping in behind you. You are the one smiling when you feel his lips brush against your neck and his fingers against your stomach pulling your ass back against his hips. 
“Mmkay. I’ll be right back. I love you.” 
A smile stays on his lips as he hears you repeat the words back to him even as he trudges toward the bedroom leaving you to do what you were doing. It doesn’t take long before he is back in the kitchen with you. Instead of trousers, a button-up, a sweater vest, and a tie you smile as your husband sets the table wearing loose pants and a sweater you had bought for him. The day’s stress already seemed to melt from him with each passing moment. 
Dinner conversation passes with ease as always. Jun talks about his day but is always more interested in yours. His smile never ceases to make you feel warm and a bit shy at times no matter how long you have been with him. 
“That sounds like a great day, babe. Business is good then.” 
You laugh into a final bite of your food allowing Jun to take your dishes. The man never seemed to allow you to both cook and clean. Biting your lip, you tilt your head watching as he pushes his sleeves up moving towards the sink to go about his task as he still stays attentive to your words. 
“Yeah, it’s bitchin’. I love the store. Just music all day long, Jun. It’s like heaven on earth.” 
Jun grins, his hands covered in soap as he carefully washes the bowls knowing he has broken more than one in the past by accident. 
“Well, you own it. How can it not be heaven?” 
Rolling your eyes, you move from your seat to push in the chairs before making your way over to your husband. Wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, you can almost hear the smile on his breath when you lay your cheek against his back. 
“You are really certified. You know that right? Nobody talks like that. You’re cheesy.” 
Laughing, Jun washes the soap from his hands and dries them before lifting his arms and turning in his embrace to face you. With a smirk on his face, he goes as far as to bite on his bottom lip and shrug his shoulders. 
He was your ground in this chaotic world and right now this was all that mattered. Shaking your head you take a step back towards the living room causing him to laugh as you sway your hips to the music playing low on the record player. It was different from before. This was music for slow dancing, music for lovers. 
“Are you trying to tell me something?” 
Jun smiles brightly when a smile spreads across your pretty face. It didn’t matter how tired he was. Your smile was like a shot of vitamin c injected right into his veins. 
“Maybe. I got good vibes about things lately. I’m thinking you should take me to bed,..” 
His smile only falters for a moment as Jun licks his lips, his brows furrowing at your words. You made it hard for him to keep his cool around you. It didn’t matter if you two had been married for two years or twenty…Jun felt it in his soul you were going to keep him on his toes. 
“You sayin’...” 
It’s when you nod, your footstep still walking the two of you backwards closer to the bedroom that Jun’s breath hitches in his throat. The two of you had talked about starting a family a hundred times but the financial situation was never right. It still wasn’t in Jun’s mind… but you saying what you had, Jun couldn’t think about anything else. 
A gasping laugh finds your lips when Jun moves quickly picking you up in his arms. Your hands on his shoulders, you kick your legs only to stop when you feel his lips press against the rising fabric of your shirt. A short huff of breath escapes him and you find yourself suddenly furrowing your brows. Your fingers running through his hair as he takes the last few steps through the door to your shared bedroom to lay you on the bed. 
Your fingers still threading through your husband’s soft locks, you find your eyes closing to the feeling of his lips finding purchase on your skin as his fingers gently work the button of your jeans loose in the dimly lit room. The only sounds are that of your soft moans, panting breaths, and his strategic kisses that seem to mesh with the music from the living room.
Lifting your hips to the feeling of Jun’s fingers pushing against your hips, you smile finally looking down at him in the low light to find his eyes on you. He had a way about making you feel shy by doing something so simple. Just his eyes on your face as he worked your jeans over your thighs, his breath fanning over your abdomen was enough to cause your cheeks to feel like you were standing too close to an open flame. 
“Jun…” 
Now he was smiling at your tiny whimper of his name. God, you were like a dream. How had he landed you, Jun would never understand, but he counted his blessings each and every day and especially any chance he had the privilege to between your thighs. 
“What is it, little bird? You sound so pretty tonight.” 
A soft happy sigh on your lips causes Jun’s eyes to close momentarily as he drops your jeans onto the floor and his hands slide along your legs towards your hips once again. You were better than music. He knew that you’d argue with him on that. There was little that you enjoyed more than your records, but there was nothing he enjoyed more than the little sounds that slipped out of your lips when he was touching you. 
“I want you to make love to me Jun. Wanna have a baby…” 
The last sentence is spoken much quieter than the first. It’s almost as if you are afraid to say it too loudly. Either out of embarrassment or more that if you say it too loud it might not happen. His hands begin to shake, Jun presses his fingers into the top of your panties as his eyes finally move over your face once again. You watch him take in a steading breath, his eyes somewhat darker even noticeable in the dim light. 
“That’s what you want? Me to make love to you in our bed?” 
Jun watches you nod, your fingers moving to your lip as you smile shyly at his words as if they are dirty. He could talk dirty when he wanted to and he hadn’t even started. Biting at his bottom lip, Jun’s eyes fall on your hips as you rock them back and forth while his hands work your panties downwards. You were still dancing for him, even in the bed. 
“You want me to put a baby in you?” 
Your cheeks burn as you nod quickly, your fingers finding the comforter under your body to hold onto tightly as Jun’s nails scratch along your legs, your panties ending up at your ankles. Your husband grins to himself at how you are acting, how desperate you have become even as he feels his cock pulsing with need in his jeans. 
“Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll fuck you slow and sweet.” 
Jun’s name is whispered on your lips and he smiles into his words once your bottom half is completely exposed to him. Raising his eyebrows, Jun slides his arm around your waist, lifting you up to sit on the bed so he can shimmy your shirt over your head. You whine, your fingers pulling at his shirt once you are naked in front of him, wanting him to join you. 
“I’m working on it, baby. I said slow and sweet. Did you want something different?” 
Jun watches you smile, your fingers trailing after his own as he finally loses his sweater among the clothes on the floor. 
“Maybe…what if slow and sweet doesn’t win the race, Jun.” 
Laughing, Jun lets your fingers play with the top of his pants before he uses your hands to push them down along with his underwear, making you suck in a breath. It didn’t matter how many times you saw your husband naked it always felt like the first time. His body was perfect. The way his hips led in a perfect v to his cock. 
“I think it does, but I promise you…my pace won’t matter, little bird. What is going to matter is that I’m going to fill you full of me.” 
Jun meant that in every meaning of the phrase. He knew that he was just the right size to fill your pussy completely. He couldn’t wait to feel you around him. He could also already feel his mind going crazy at the idea of his cum inside of you. The idea of it dripping out of you so that he could push it back in, keeping you full of him. 
His hand sliding along your side, Jun rests his knee between your thighs on the bed as he hovers over you. The man’s eyes move over your face before he brings his hand to your face, letting his thumb trace your soft bottom lip lightly. 
Your body vibrates with desire. Your back arches as you feel the heat of his body radiating towards your own wanting more contact with him, and yet Jun takes his time. You watch your husband smile as his thumb strums along your jaw, his fingers sliding along the side of your head when he finally leans down to press his lips to yours in a breathtaking kiss. 
No thoughts, only your mind repeating the same name over and over again as your nails rake along his sides. 
‘Jun, Jun, Jun…’ 
The thoughts are so loud it surprises you that his name doesn’t slip out between moans that Jun claims as his own. Smiling against your lips briefly, Jun’s brows furrow, feeling his abdomen tighten with want when your tongue begs for entrance into his mouth and glides along his own. Between the passion of your kiss and the way you were pressing against his leg now nestled between your thighs, Jun’s brain felt like it was spinning. 
“Fuck–you are so good, baby. I love you so much.” 
You can’t help but whimper to Jun’s words that are spoken against your lips and jaw as his kisses dance along your skin to your neck. You were clinging to your husband, soft whispered begs falling from your lips as his leg slides from your thighs leaving you feeling too empty. 
“Pl–lease…Jun. I need you. I love you. I can’t wait anymore.” 
Jun grins against the column of your neck hearing your words against the shell of his ear. Your breath was hot and your words made his body shiver. You needed him. He needed you. Always and forever. That had been the promise made at an altar in front of family and friends. He had promised to love and take care of you for always and forever… 
“Mm, so beautiful. My pretty wife. You need me?” 
Tears on the rims of your eyes, you nod firmly to Jun’s question knowing he already knew the answer. His fingers brush under your eye, a small cooing sound slipping from his lips as he nods in return. 
Your eyes are so beautiful, he thought causing him to move slower than he would have on a normal night. Jun watches your lips fall open to the feeling of his fingers sliding between your wet folds. He relishes in the soft whimpered moans that meet his ears as he circles his middle finger around your wanting entrance. 
“You are so wet… You want me that bad?” 
The tears that had been on the rim of your eyes now trail along your cheeks as you nod and mutter yes to answer Jun’s question, feeling just his finger to the first knuckle teasing you. No matter how much you moved your hips trying to feel more, it managed to only tease you and praise you for your patience. 
Placing a kiss on your cheek, Jun smiles against your skin as he brushes away your tears with his fingers. He knew you weren’t sad. You just needed him that much and he wouldn’t make you wait any longer. With his breath warm against your jaw, Jun listens to your moans changing pitch when he lines himself up with you and pushes in slowly. His eyes close and goosebumps spread along his skin not only to the feeling of your warm walls clenching every inch of him but also to the way the rest of your body molds to him. 
Your right knee slides to Jun’s hip as your left foot rests over his hip allowing him to thrust into you deep and hard. He was keeping his promise of going slow. You could feel every ridge of his cock as he slid from you only to be swallowed back by you inch by inch. 
“Perfect… you’re perfect, baby. God, you are holding me so tight. Wanna fill you up, little bird.” 
Jun’s lips find yours though he keeps speaking against them between kisses. His words made your head spin with more desire. It was exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to fill you up. That was his promise. 
“Do it, Jun… please? Know what I said, remember? Know what I want, what we want.”  
Moving his head down, Jun can’t help but groan low and deep against the crook of your neck at your words. His pace picks up speed as he feels his climax quickening in his abdomen like a glass about to shatter. 
“I–I… fuck, I know, babe. I know… I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you a baby.” 
Your nails scratch at Jun’s shoulder when his thrusts become more intense. Your eyes closed tightly, you can’t hide the soft happy sound that leaves your lips when Jun says he will give you a baby. You knew he would. You had a good feeling about tonight. 
Hand flat against his shoulder, you arch hard off the bed, feeling your orgasm rip through you like waves against the rocks during a storm. Jun groans your name, sweat rolling from his temples as he feels your walls clench and flutter around him as you cum. 
There was no way he could keep himself from following you as your body seemed to want him to do so. His mouth latching to your soft skin, Jun hisses against your neck as he leaves a small mark that will bloom darker by the morning as he spills into you. 
With each thrust towards your hips, Jun’s groans fill your ears as his cum begins to drip from you only to be pushed back in by the next thrust. Meeting your eyes, Jun sucks on his bottom lip before letting it fall from between his teeth as he mutters your name and his hips come to a stop between your thighs. 
Your fingers slide along his back and down his arms as Jun’s nose nuzzles against your jaw pushing your head back against the pillows. A laugh slips from your lips, and he smiles against your neck between tender kisses. He gently slips his softening length from you and leans back to look between your legs. 
Shaking his head, Jun mutters a curse under his breath at the sight of you, at how perfect you are with his cum slowly dripping from between your folds. The feeling of his fingers sliding over your swollen folds causes you to jump, but the soft sound of his calming voice keeps you grounded as Jun pushes his cum back into you making sure not a drop is wasted. 
“All of it baby… mmm, make my head go crazy looking like this. I could almost go again.” 
Biting on your lips, you stifle a laugh. Your thighs shake as the heel of Jun’s hand rocks over your clit. A sly grin spreads over his face as you try to keep the moan at bay when he knows your body almost as well as you do. 
“But I’ll be good…” 
Kissing your shoulder, Jun lazily pushes his fingers into you as he thinks about what you had said that had led the two of you to bed in the first place. His smile softens as he feels your hand wrap around his wrist and your cheek resting against his forehead. 
“You can’t keep it inside me forever, Jun…”
He disagreed but he was also a smart enough man to know it wouldn’t change the outcome, no matter how much enjoyed the feeling or the sight of it. 
“Mm, I could. You are just so pretty, but you are right. We need to get cleaned up. I can make love to you again tomorrow and the next day… and the next…” 
Your giddy laugh causes Jun to laugh along with you, his fingers slipping from between your legs so he can pull you into his arms. You find yourself smiling against his kiss before melting into it as his hand glides along your back holding you as closely as he can manage. 
“You want a baby that bad, Jun?” 
Smiling against your lips, Jun nods. He listens to your soft whines that he swallows with his kiss as his nails scratch along your hip. He wanted a family with you more than anything. He wanted to make you happier than you were today. Tomorrow he would want to make you happier the next day and the next. He’d never stop, and if he was lucky enough to be a dad he’d work even harder to make you and that baby happy. 
Turning on his back, Jun lets you rest your chin on his chest as he looks up at the ceiling. His fingers trailing along your back as the record player plays the last song. You can’t help but run your fingers over your lower stomach as you feel your heart tighten at the sight of your husband happy and content. You really did have a good feeling about today. 
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© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
404 notes · View notes
celestialprincesse · 2 months
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𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫
I'm so so sorry this took so long to get out! It's here now!
as usual, slight nsfw 💕 mdni please
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Your dinner date comes in the form of a candlelit booth in the darkest corner of one of the nicest restaurants in town. Even in all your giddy, feet swinging, cheek hurting beaming, you can't miss the way Nikto's hands shake as he withdraws a pair of thick framed glasses from the inner pocket of his jacket before turning away from you to remove the black material of his mask.
"I'm not going to judge you." The sound of your soft admission has his shoulders bunching with a deep breath to slow the thundering of his heart. "I do not wish to frighten you." He murmurs lowly, sliding his glasses over his nose before turning back in his seat to face you.
There's a split second where you just stare, clenching your teeth until they creak in protest as you attempt not to gape over at him. You want to reach out and touch him - to run your fingers over the dipping craters and lines of raised, pale skin, to trace over the constellations of suffering etched into the face of the man sitting so self consciously before you. You don't, but god you want to. Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. You've never felt so safe.
Instead of saying anything, you simply reach for his hand across the clean white tablecloth, an encouraging squeeze given before you return to peering at the menu you've set out before you. "I've never had lobster bisque before." You hum, absently chewing at the pink paint of your nails, realising how very out of your depths you are when most of the items on the menu don't spark any sort of recognition in the depths of your mind. What the fuck is a fregotto?
"Do you like shellfish?" Nikto clearly sees your suffering, your wide eyed gaze as you stare down at the menu, and manages to pull himself from his thoughts in order to rescue you from your own. "I guess." You shrug, chewing on your glossy bottom lip nervously.
You've always subconsciously known that the man next door has money - not that he's the ostentatious type - but the neighbourhood is expensive, and the car in his garage, from what you can tell at least, is new and shiny. The watch around his wrist, though functional at first glance, is clearly expensive too. The only reason you live next door is because you'd inherited your little house from some aunt you'd barely remembered. You're not exactly struggling, but you don't fit in all too well either.
"The wagyu here is excellent." He continues, noticing the way you bounce your leg and fiddle with your pretty little hoop earrings, eyes darting across the off-white card of the menu pages. Your attempt at nonchalance is obvious as you rest your cheek in the crook of your palm, looking over at your date. "I can order for you, if you would like." Nikto shoots you a look he hopes comes off as considerate, practically praying that his actions are helpful, as opposed to controlling. He's never been too god with women. "Yes. Please." You sigh, the weight on your shoulders suddenly disappearing as your eyes flit to the drinks menu, relief evident when you gaze down to the 'house' cocktail menu, immediately settling on the fruitiest thing there.
After the waitress has come and taken the order of the odd pair in the corner, you and Nikto sit in a strangely comforting - albeit awkward - silence. "You look beautiful tonight." His voice is the first to carry through the quiet, drawing you back to him as your eyes glaze over, coming out in a way he's seen you do countless times before. "Thank you." The candlelight does little to hide the way you blush under his obvious, piercing admiration of you.
In your panicked browsing of the menu, you'd not even noticed the lack of pricing. The last time you'd been somewhere as fancy as this had been to celebrate your graduation, where you and your family had shared appetisers and some artistically crafted dessert, before promptly heading to the nearest gas station to stock up on chips and sodas which you'd sat eating in front of the TV. What Nikto knows, and you don't, is that places like this tend to provide the priced menus to the men, and he'd ordered you just about the most expensive thing on there. To him, you're nothing short of a princess, and it's only right that he should treat you as such.
He knows he's made the right decision when you take the first bite of your meal, which leaves your lashes fluttering and your eyes rolling back with a hum of appreciation. He hopes that one day maybe he'll see the same sight under him as he fucks you. "You like it?" He inquires, not even bothering to hide his obvious admiration for you and your animated reactions. "I don't even know what it is. But it's delicious." You breathe, taking another bite, savouring the way every flavour melts on your palate.
Dessert comes and goes, and you feel so blissfully full and happy by the time the waitress comes with a small leather folio, containing the bill. "Oh!" You chirp, rooting around in your inconveniently tiny purse to try and find your card. "Sorry, two seconds." Again, you're blushing with obvious embarrassment as you empty tubes of lipgloss and bubble gum packets out onto the table, your card nowhere to be found. "We are not splitting the bill." Nikto states firmly, removing a card from his wallet, before handing the folio back to the waitress, who promptly disappears to scan his card. "But-" "No. I invited you for dinner. I do not expect you to pay."
Nikto even walks you home, stands there on your porch as you fumble with your purse again, trying to find your keys. "Would you - uh - would you like to come in?" The hope in your eyes makes his gut wrench, but he holds firm. "Maybe another time."
You feel like a fool, some kind of a slut inviting him upstairs after the first date. He probably thinks you're some overzealous little girl as you stand there gawking. The kiss he gives you, tilting your chin up to capture your lips with his, soon fixes this perception. You melt into him just as he pulls away, using his thumb to wipe away some errant gloss on your chin. "When I fuck you, princess, I will do it properly. Yes?" You nod, utterly gormless at his words, at his reciprocation of your feelings made clear. "Goodnight, princess. Sleep well."
You don't sleep well that night. Not in the slightest. You toss and turn under the white silk of your sheets, pyjamas tossed to the floor as you desperately fuck your fingers to the thought of him. He does the same.
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Finally here !!! I'm sorry for the wait!!!! I hope you enjoyed !!! Mwah!!!!!!!! Also, tell me you like my new badge🤭
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magneticflower · 4 months
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When is it not raining in Ketterdam?
I got rather inspired and wanted to draw Kanej since it had been a while. It snowballed into me also writing a little thing to go along with it. I hope you enjoy both sjsj. The rest of the writing will be under readmore~
 It almost feels like old times, being out on the streets of the Barrel in the wee hours of the morning instead of at the Crow Club to meet her. Almost. Except he wasn't making his way through the Barrel to scout out a target or to discuss intel without the risk of being heard with her, and they weren't teenagers anymore. He was heading towards the docks for a goodbye. It wasn't the first time he had done so in the last five years, and provided her Saints kept watch like she said they did, it wouldn't be the last. 
He made his way down to berth twenty-two and could already see her waiting for him at the railing on the side of her ship, her familiar figure silhouetted by what streams of moonlight could make it through the smoggy sky that encased the Barrel most evenings. He preferred the times when she was silhouetted by the sunsets that only seemed to be visible when she returned, but he couldn't begrudge her for leaving to where she was at her best. He just hated how he felt in the hours leading up to and after her departure. Kaz pulled himself together just fine after, but he had never entirely managed to shake himself of those hours. Maybe one day.
"Punctual as always, Kaz," she said as he made his way to stand in front of her along the railing.
"I know how you like your sleep. I won't keep you long."
"I don't mind losing some sleep, not if it is for you. Saints know I have done it plenty of times before."
"I distinctly remember several instances of you grumbling about that."
Inej rolled her eyes, "Are you trying to keep this brief because you've got somewhere you would rather be, Kaz?"
No, there wasn't a place in the Barrel that he would rather be than right here, right now. Perhaps only his office, but only if she was there with him. "I am trying out being considerate."
"Not what I asked."
Kaz exhaled through his nose, "You know the answer to that, Inej."
Luckily for him, she wasn't keen on being as obstinate as he usually was, so instead of insisting on a real answer, she simply asked, "Then why are you so far?"
He eyed her momentarily, "How could I be closer than I already am while on the dock?"
Inej's eyes looked down and his own followed suit. "Are you telling me you want me to climb up those crates?"
She looked back up, "Well, I may or may not have had my crew leave those right there for that very reason. Come to whatever conclusion that gives you."
"It was raining earlier. They're wet."
"When is it not raining in Ketterdam?"
"Right now."
"Kaz." She gives him a familiar look that tells him she is done with the back and forth. He either does it or doesn't. Of course he does it.
"If I fall on my ass climbing these..." he muttered as he made his way up the boxes to fulfill her request to come closer.
Inej laughed, "If you do perhaps you'll gain greater appreciation for what I used to do for you. At the very least you will leave me with a great memory to reflect on during the less than favorable nights when I'm gone."
Kaz was too busy making his way up to give a retort. It wasn't as if these were particularly difficult, they were just a few measly crates, but his leg never liked this sort of weather and it was proving to stand by that.
"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" She said once he fully made it up, no unceremonious fall to be had.
"It wasn't particularly good either. We're not teenagers anymore," he countered, shifting his weight to better accommodate his leg.
Inej rested her arms on the railing so that she could lean closer to him, a grin on her face. She still had to look down at him even though he stood on the crates now. Regardless, they were closer, just like she wanted. He had wanted it too.
"You're only twenty two, Kaz, you're hardly ancient. Besides, you are the one that declines to simply come on the ship when we say our goodbyes. I know you said it is because it might wake the others, but one day you will have to oblige me, since you are giving being considerate a chance." He knew the last sentence wasn't just a request to come aboard for goodbyes. One day she wanted him to come with her. Maybe one day he would.
"It would be louder. I am not the Wraith."
"No, I suppose you are not. You're just the crow that keeps coming by because she didn't have the good sense not to feed him," she retorts, leaning forward a little more.
"I don't recall you giving me any information recently, Wraith."
"I suppose not," she said as she moved her hands down to place them on either side of his face to prompt him to lean up as she leaned closer to him as well, "Give me a minute to think of something," she finished as she closed the gap between their lips. It was soft and slow. perhaps because the two knew that this was where the goodbye started.
Almost as if Ketterdam couldn't handle the silence of their moment, Inej began to hear the pattering of the beginning of the rainy morning ahead of her. She pulled back, though only enough to stop the kiss, but not enough to let the rain hit his face. Not enough to ruin this.
"Kaz, it's raining."
"When is it not raining in Ketterdam?"
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prythianpages · 6 months
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Stuck On You | Part Three
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cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.
“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”
[series masterlist]
A/N: I debated on splitting this into two parts since it came out longer than intended but I wanted to leave the bulk of the angst in this part. Some more scenes and quotes from Lilo & Stitch since I couldn't help myself. just one more part! I have a rough outline of it so I probably won't be able to finish it tonight but definitely by some time this coming week.
Warnings: angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of violence/abuse
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“Cassian said he would take me out for ice cream if you said yes!” Seraphine beamed, removing her boots at the foyer of your small, humble home. “I’ve never had ice cream before. Have you?”
“Sera,” you said with a sigh, concern laced into your tone over how attached she was to him. His month-long absence had given you a glimpse of the consequence of the effect he had on not just you but Seraphine as well and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t understand. 
“I think it’s best if we don’t see Cas anymore.”
She turned to you with a pout. “He’s our friend! You have to say yes.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Seraphine’s lip quivered, her tired eyes brimming with tears.
You didn’t answer, couldn’t bring yourself to.
Instead, you threw your aching body onto the small loveseat in the living room. This week had taken both an emotional and physical toll on you, as you tirelessly kept Seraphine up to date with her studies, managed the tavern’s monthly expenses and wrestled with your inner turmoil concerning Cassian. The constant restlessness in Seraphine only added to the mountain of exhaustion, her unbridled excitement buzzing incessantly over everything.
You knew you should draw a bath for the both of you and then head to bed, considering your fatigue.
However, you were well aware of your little sister’s stubborn nature as it was one you also exhibited. It must run in the family. Once she was fixated on something, there was no distracting her and judging by the intensity of her little sister’s sobs, you braced yourself for a long and challenging night.
“You’re so mean!” She cried. “I hate you!”
“Please don’t be a pain tonight,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“You should just sell me and buy a rabbit instead!” Sara shouted at you with her finger pointed at you, referring to your empty threat of replacing her with a rabbit every time she misbehaved. You hadn’t brought it up in months, years even, and were surprised she remembered.
“At least a rabbit would behave better than you,” you muttered. 
“Go ahead!” Seraphine exclaimed, making you wince at her sharp tone. You hoped your neighbors could not hear her, fearing what they’d do if they did. You heard her angry stomps as she made her way to her room. “Then you’ll be happy! It will be smarter than me too.”
“And quieter!”
“You’ll like it because it’s stinky like you!”
“Go to your room!”
“I’m already in my room!” Seraphine screamed as she opened her door just to slam it shut again, irritating you further.
You grabbed the nearest pillow and brought it to your face to muffle your scream.
**
Guilt began to settle as your initial anger faded away. You knew you had overreacted. For many years, it had just been you and the small family your mother had created. Neither you or Seraphine had made any friends in Ironcrest yet, unless you counted the friendly old male who you purchased spices and groceries from every Sunday. 
Your small family of four had unexpectedly and significantly reduced to half, leaving just you and Seraphine. Of course, she was excited when Cassian came along. You’d deny it if asked but a part of you was excited too.
He was sweet and kind but your worries crept in about what it meant to allow him into your tightly-knit world. What if things didn’t work out between you? What if the burdens you carried were too much for him to bear? You couldn’t allow him in further when your sister was already so attached to him, unable to bear the thought of having her witness another loved one disappear from her life.
You had to end this, whatever it was that you and Cassian had and you had to end it soon. Before any further damage could be provoked.
Throughout your life, stability had been a luxury, and the haunting fear of attachment loomed over you. The constant uprooting had instilled a deep seated fear of getting close to people. Every bond you had forged was inevitably followed by a painful goodbye. The walls safeguarding your heart, constructed since childhood, grew higher and stronger with every move. You had hoped that your mother’s marriage would bring a lasting change, a nice and needed break from moving, and for a while, it had.
However, the universe had a cruel way of reminding you that stability was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You would’ve never expected your one night stand with Cassian would lead to something more–to this. 
Cassian, with his unwavering determination, posed a threat to the walls you had carefully built around your heart. Love. It seemed like a beautiful risk but the fear of losing what was gained, overshadowed its allure for you. Your heart had never felt so heavy.
You took a deep breath before knocking on your sister’s door. The lack of response didn’t surprise you. She must still be upset. The soft glow of faelight seeping from beneath her door confirmed she was awake. Balancing the two mugs of hot cocoa in one arm, you opened the door and slipped inside.
Your stomach churned at the sight of your little sister, clutching the pegasus doll that Cassian had gifted her. Tears streaked her face as she gazed down solemnly.
“I brought you, your favorite. Hot cocoa,” you offered, hoping to bring a glimmer of cheer to her troubled expression.
“We’re a broken family, aren’t we?”
You frowned, setting the tray down on the nightstand, hesitating before answering. “Maybe but only a little…”
You settled yourself onto Seraphine’s bed, gently cradling her into your lap. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”
“I like you better as a sister than a mother…” Seraphine sniffled.
“Yeah?” You tenderly brushed her long, dark hair away from her face in contemplation.
 A pang tugged at your heart–the weight of becoming a mother figure pressed on your shoulders. As a sister, you also played a nurturing and protective role in Seraphine’s upbringing, offering support when it was needed. You were the one Seraphine would run to for comfort after your mother's scolding or being stern with her, but now you were the one that had to be stern. It was a struggle finding the delicate balance between fulfilling the motherly duties Seraphine needed and preserving the sibling bond that meant the world to you.
“And you like me better as a sister than a rabbit, right?”
“Oh, my sweet Sera.” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your arms wrapping around her smaller form with a gentle squeeze. “Of course I do! I would not make my special hot cocoa for just anyone. Only you.”
You handed one of the mugs to her, smiling fondly as she inhaled the rich aroma of the hot cocoa.
“Cassian says ice cream is like frozen milk,” she mused softly. “I wonder what hot cocoa would taste like frozen but then it would no longer be hot cocoa, right? We would have to come up with a new name for it but I don’t think I like the sound of frozen cocoa…”
Her innocent dilemma made you laugh, finding it utterly endearing. You wanted her worries to always be like this. Small and trivial.
“Perhaps we should leave the cocoa out to freeze and find out for ourselves? We can decide on a name then.”
**
The night air was chilling, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. You hugged your coat closer to you, sparing at glance at Seraphine to make sure she still had hers on and the scarf you had bought her was snug to keep her neck warm. You couldn’t help but giggle when you caught Cassian, who had been persistent on walking you home, was constantly blowing his hair out of his face.
“Did you lose all your hair ties?” You quipped, digging into the pocket of your pants and offering a hair tie to him to alleviate his struggle. He reluctantly took the elastic from you and tied his hair up into his usual bun. You noticed he wore it down more recently. “You can keep it, too.”
“I just wanted to let it loose, try something different.” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
You let out a small hum, stuffing your hands back into your pockets to keep them hidden and fell into a thoughtful silence once more. There was a knot in your stomach as you three neared your house.
Seraphine, who once again had chosen to skip ahead of you two, paused. She turned around with a knowing gleam in her eye. Her lips curled up and she opened her mouth to speak and if you hadn’t been occupied in the tempest of your thoughts, you wouldn’t have missed Cassian bringing his finger to his lips to keep her from exposing him.
“Fancy hair,” she giggled, despite his plea.
“What was that?” You said, turning your head toward your sister.
Both Seraphine and Cassian exchanged a look before turning to you, responding in unison:
“Nothing!”
Your eyes narrowed at the two in suspicion but you decided not to question it.
When you three finally reached your home, Cassian was surprised at your invitation to come inside. You had never invited him inside, always bidding your farewells at your door. He walked in, overwhelmed by the sweet and delightful scent. It smelled just like you. His eyes darted around the living area curiously, taking in all the small touches you incorporated to make this place feel like a warm and inviting home.
 You instructed Seraphine to change and pick a book for you to read to her before bed. She politely said her goodbye and goodnight to Cassian, her movements slow as she was reluctant to follow your instructions. She had no desire to go to bed, not when Cassian was inside your home for the first time and you found the glare she sent you amusing.
Cassian was staring at the wilted and dead flowers resting in a small vase you had placed on the kitchen table, recognizing them as the ones he had gifted you so long ago. You never threw them away.
“Cassian.”
He loved the way you said his name. But it was different this time. He pulled his attention away from the kitchen table to look back at you. You leaned against the back of the loveseat in hesitation, your eyes revealing the weight of the decision you were about to make.
His throat tightened. “Yes?”
“I think it’s best if you stop coming here.” Your voice was laced with a vulnerability you hated and before Cassian could reply, you were speaking again. “I have to take care of my sister. I can’t risk her getting attached, more so than she already is and–and neither can I. We’ve lost so much already…”
A tear escaped your eye. You brushed it away with a trembling hand and then Cassian was bridging the distance between you both, his hand gently cupping your cheek and coaxing your gaze to his. 
“Y/n,” he gently whispered. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“How can you say that? What if something happens and–”
“Please don’t push me away.”
 “They call you the Lord of Bloodshed. You’re the commander of the High Lord’s armies. You made a name for yourself. And me? I am no one. I’m not worthy of love. Of you. You’ll soon realize it and grow tired of me–”
“Stop.” Cassian interrupted, bringing his other hand up to cup your face. His touch was both comforting and agonizing. “You are worthy of love and so much more and I want to prove it to you. There could be a room full of others but just like that night at the bonfire, I want you. I choose you.”
A heavy sigh escaped you as you gently removed his hands from your face. “But I can’t choose you. I have to choose Seraphine. I always will and right now, I can’t afford to have you both.”
The weight of your words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that anchored you, pulling you away from the love that beckoned.
Cassian grasped your hands in his, refusing to let them slip away. He did not want to let go of you. He understood the depth of your worries and the distress etched onto your features was breaking his heart. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way he saw you?
“I won’t force you into something that scares you, y/n.” He reassured you with a soft tone, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “I only want what’s best for you and Seraphine.”
Your lips trembled as you managed a small, strained smile.
“But you have to know that I love you–both of you. And this love, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a constant. A promise that will never waver.”
**
Cassian hadn’t returned and although you had asked for it, you couldn’t deny the lingering void in your heart. Seraphine sensed something was amiss when your voice wavered as you read her a bedtime story shortly after he left. Surprisingly, she refrained from asking about Cassian until a week later, almost as if she dreaded hearing the news that he wouldn’t be coming back. 
When she finally did, tears welled in her eyes and you comforted her, convincing yourself it was for the best. However, the attempt of reassurance was futile and did little to ease your own pain.
Seraphine sighed, absentmindedly nudging the green vegetable on her plate. Scrumps was propped on the table, facing her with its stitched eyes. “At least I still have you,” she murmured to the pegasus plush. “You’ll never leave me, right?”
You frowned at the sight, feeling helpless and unsure how to alleviate your sister’s sorrow. This was precisely what you had tried to shield her from and it stung to realize it was too late. The damage had already been done.
Your attention was then pulled away as the creaking door to the tavern swung open. The room fell into silence. The dining Illyrians, previously immersed in their conversations, cast furtive glances toward the entrance.
In stepped the formidable son of Ironcrest’s war-lord, Kallon. Another Illyrian stepped in behind him but he was overshadowed by Kallon’s commanding presence. His gaze swept over the room, eyes like steel, assessing every face, every corner of the establishment. The tension in the air was palpable. He was looking for someone.
The regulars exchanged subtle nods, acknowledging the unspoken command to show respect. Whispers died down, and the muted sound of footsteps echoed as he advanced further into the tavern. The atmosphere had shifted from one of amiability to one of quiet deference, all eyes now focused on the figure who seemed to hold the establishment in the palm of his hand.
Your eyes were wide and you felt your body tense. You almost forgot how to breathe when Kallon’s cold eyes found yours. Seraphine, who sensed your distress, hopped off her chair and ran to you. Her tiny hand found yours and you guided her to stand behind you as Kallon continued his approach.
“Kallon,” you managed to find your voice, forcing a smile onto your face as you bowed your head in respect. “Should I prepare a table for you and your companion?”
“There’s no need.” He replied. He then turned his head at the eavesdropping Illryians, his gaze a silent warning to them. It wasn’t until the menacing look on his face prompted a couple to abandon their tables and those that remained to resume their conversations that he turned his attention back to you. “I came here to speak to you.”
“Me?” You echoed, your voice daring to break. The male behind Kallon remained quiet but you caught the way his gaze had flickered to your little sister, who hid behind your skirts. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with an Illyrian male from Windhaven–” Kallon’s lips curled up in disgust and you felt Seraphine’s grip on you tighten. “– who just so happens to also be the High Lord’s general.”
“His name is Cassian.” Seraphine said, peeking out from behind you to scowl at Kallon.
Kallon looked toward your sister with a scoff. You pressed Seraphine into your hip to keep her from speaking again, worried of the consequences that may unfold. “He’s just a friend.”
Kallon’s attention drifted back to you, his gaze burning into you. “It seems you and I have different understandings of a friend because friends don’t kiss each other now do they?”
Your breath hitched. The two of you seldom interacted with each other. The last time you did was to report your mother’s murder. You cursed yourself at that moment, disappointed with yourself. You had failed to recognize that Cassian was well known throughout Illyria and to make it worse, he was from Windhaven. A rival camp to Ironcrest. You wondered how long Kallon had been following you and why he waited to confront you about it now, several months later since Cassian’s first visit. 
“I–”
“It’s not a good look for you, y/n.” Kallon shook his head in disapproval with a small tut. “You of all people should know the consequences of whoring yourself out. Finding a husband will be troublesome for you and if you continue down this path, it is not a good example for your dear little sister.”
Your blood grew cold at the insult and you forced yourself to look up to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay. “I’m s–”
“It seems I may have failed you in some aspects.” Kallon interrupted, raising a finger at you in warning. He turned his attention to the empty glasses lined at the counter. “It is my job, after all, to help my father run this camp and it seems that I have overlooked you. Poor little y/n. You have been running this business and raising your sister all on your own.”
His fingers danced along the counter, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air, a sharp and crystalline shatter that reverberated through your bones and had Seraphine wincing into your body. You stared at the shattered glass at your feet, heart pounding through your ears.
“But it is not your place to do so.” Kallon reprimanded, his voice seething with a barely contained intensity. “It is his.”
You lifted your gaze.
The Illyrian male that had been quietly observant finally stepped forward. His features held a strange familiarity you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were cold and distant, lips pressed into a taut line.
“This is Aerik. Seraphine’s uncle.”
**
The wind was knocked out of you as the day you had dreaded finally came. Kallon had tracked down your step father’s only living relative– his brother, Aerik. The illusion you had so carefully crafted was unraveling and you found yourself at the precipice, forced to surrender the tavern and Seraphine, as if she were a mere object, to him.
But you knew the future that laid ahead for Seraphine if she stayed with her uncle. To you, she was your precious little sister, the one you had devoted your life to. To him, she was disposable, reduced to nothing but a bargaining tool once she was of marrying age. 
She would not have the freedom to be a child as she did with you. She would be groomed to become a submissive wife and soon enough, her wings would be clipped. A tradition that had been banned but not enforced in Ironcrest. You could not allow any harm to fall to your sister, not when you were alive and capable of taking care of her. You wondered if this is how your mother had felt when she had you, cornered by the cruel world.
Kallon had left moments ago, along with the remaining customers, but now without a warning. A threat to harm you and Cassian in unimaginable ways if Kallon heard of Cassian meeting with you again.
"I don't give a fuck if he's the High Lord's pet. This is my father's camp and as his son, I have the authority to punish those who dare cross us as needed."
You had instructed Seraphine to go to the kitchens to help tidy up, leaving you and Aerik alone. Your eyebrows knitted together in an exasperated manner, bewildered by his demands. 
You were a half breed–half high fae, half Illyrian–and a bastard. You were of little significance to Aerik–to any male in this damned camp, if you were being honest–and his plans with Seraphine did not include you. He wanted to take her away from you. For good.
He shifted, directing himself toward the kitchen and you were stopping him. Your hand gripped his arm desperately. “Seraphine needs me.”
Aerik tore his arm from your grasp with a snarl, using it to grip yours instead in retribution. His grip was hard and bruising and had you grimacing. “Is this what she needs?” He seethed, vividly gesturing to the tavern and lack of order in Seraphine’s life.
 “It seems clear to me that you need her a lot more than she needs you.”
**
Cassian told himself he would give you space, as tortuous as it was for him. It’s what you had asked him for. He missed you dearly, often wondering if you were feeling that painful ache in your heart too. Despite the temptation, he resisted the urge to ask Azriel to check in on you with his shadows, not wanting to bring his friend into this tangled messy emotions he found himself grappling with. He couldn’t shake the desire to check up on you one more time, hoping that you might've change your mind.
A week later, when an overwhelming sense of unease gripped him, he set off for Ironcrest.
Cassian pushed open the door to the familiar tavern, his second home as Rhysand had teased him weeks ago. His eyes scanned the room in search of you like they always did, but he couldn't spot the one person he was hoping to see. His head was then turning to the table Seraphine often occupied only to find it empty. 
An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach when he couldn’t spot either of you, not missing the glare the male behind the counter had sent his way. It confirmed his suspicion that you weren’t here. Growing concerned, he decided to look for you, hoping you were safe and sound at home.
The journey was swift as it was one he knew by heart, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. When he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment. He could see the subtle glow of a light, coming from the small window that he knew faced your living room. He heard a squeak come from inside, recognizing it as Seraphine’s, and then he was knocking on your door.
There was a faint rustling inside and then the door creaked open. Cassian’s confusion set in as he initially saw no one at the other side. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that his gaze shifted downward, relief washing over him as he spotted Seraphine.  
“Cas Cas!” Seraphine’s expression brightened, reveling in his presence and wrapping her tiny arms around him when he crouched down. “I thought I’d never see you again!”
“It’s good to see you too, munchkin.” Cassian smiled fondly, lifting her up with ease. He had missed her so much too.
“Sera, it’s time for your ba–Cassian?” You blinked, your grip on the towel in your hand tightening. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Can I come in?”
You looked past his shoulders worriedly and hesitantly nodded.
Cassian stepped into the foyer, crouching down to let Seraphine down. She grasped at his hand, guiding him to the living room where you stood with a forced smile on your face.
His worry deepened as he looked at you. "You weren’t at the tavern so I came to–to see you.”
To make sure you’re alright, is what he wanted to say but within seconds of seeing you, he knew you weren’t. Yet, you still attempted to dismiss his concern with a casual shrug. “My step-uncle is taking over the tavern now.”
“Oh yeah, Cas! I have a step-uncle now and he’s so nice to me. He bought me a new coloring book and so many toys! Do you want to see?”
Cassian realized that the glaring male from the tavern must be Seraphine’s step-uncle. He caught the way you bit the inside of your cheek at your little sister’s words, sensing something more beneath the surface.
“Sure.” He replied to Seraphine.
He waited until she disappeared down the hallway to take a step closer to you. “Is everything okay?”
A fleeting moment of hesitation flickered in your eyes that you quickly concealed, hoping he didn’t notice. But he did.
 "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired but thankfully Aerik offered to step in to help.”
Despite her attempt to reassure him, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The lines of worry etched on his face as he spoke, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"
“Yeah,” you nodded your head nonchalantly at him.
“Y/n.” His voice was gentle but stern and he reached out for your hands.
His fingers accidentally brushed against the bruise Aerik had left the other night and you couldn’t mask the wince that followed. Cassian stilled, eyes glancing down and widening at the marking of your skin. “Y/n, Sweetheart–”
“It’s nothing.” You were pulling your arm from his grasp and out of his view, clasping them behind your back. “I tripped and hit my arm against the counter the other night.”
Cassian felt a burning feeling in his chest, his teeth clenching. Someone had touched you--hurt you.
“Does this have anything to do with the sudden appearance of Seraphine’s uncle?”
“No.” Your response was too quick to be anything but a lie. “Aerik has been kind to us. So kind that he offered to help me find a husband.”
More lies. Your fear and anxiety grew with every passing moment that Cassian remained in Ironcrest. Kallon’s menacing warnings echoed in your mind, threatening dire consequences for both you and Cassian, if he ever returned. Since he had gone to the tavern to look for you, you were sure Aerik had seen him. Cassian was not one to easily blend into the crowd with his imposing stature, striking features and seven siphons. It was only a matter of time before he would run off to go tell Kallon.
You knew Cassian was a formidable warrior from all the gossip and tales you'd heard at the bonfire. Still, you couldn't shake your fear. Cassian was in enemy territory. Vastly outnumbered. He had to leave.
Cassian shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard. “What?”
Stepping forward, he closed the distance between you, his intense gaze burning into your skin as you actively avoided it. “Is this what you want?”
“It’s what is best,” you told him, sidestepping his question. “So please leave. I don’t want Aerik to get the wrong idea by having you here in the house alone with me.”
“Y/N–”
“I’m so sorry, Cassian.”
Walking away, you felt your heart begin to shatter, unaware that you had also shattered his. You wiped at your eyes once you knew you were out of his view, holding your breath as you moved down the hallway. Seraphine ran past you with her coloring book and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.
Seraphine paused, her chest heaving as she caught up with her breath. Her lips curved into a deep frown when she spotted Cassian heading for the door. “Cas Cas, where are you going? I was going to show you my coloring book…"
"I thought you were here to stay.”
Cassian couldn’t bring himself to answer her and as young as she was, she recognized the look in his eyes. It mirrored the expression on your face before you had to deliver bad news. 
“You can leave again if you want.” Seraphine said as realization dawned on her. She casted her head down.
“I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.”
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[series masterlist]
A/N: don't hate me for breaking Cas's heart. I just live for the angst 🫠 if it's any consolation, this will have a happy ending 🩷
tagging: @kemillyfreitas
325 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 11 months
Text
☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. all my life i’ve dreamed of you.
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about. you think that he was made for you. im in the mood for some fluffy husband!bakugou !!
warnings. none. sfw, fluff & gn!reader.
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“i don’t mean to be corny,” you say late one night, nosing up the side of katsuki’s neck. “but i think i dreamt you up.”
it’s routine for the two of you to be up together for at least an hour before your husband drifts off — bakugou is old fashioned, he doesn’t believe in blue light and phone screens before bed so you’ll often catch him reading a book recommended by momo in the time leading up to his beauty sleep.
you’ll never understand how he manages to fall asleep upright, but for tonight you convince him to lay back with you in the sheets so you can nuzzle your face into his plush chest.
you feel his ruby gaze on you before you meet it — pulled away from the words in his book. “whaddya mean by that, gorgeous?” bakugou chuffs in amusement, a faint smile tugging on the corner of his lips while he shoves his thumb into the spine of his book to bookmark the page.
“when i was little, i dreamt of someone who loved me,” you start by choosing your words carefully — bakugou has always been a man spooked by love he doesn’t think he deserves and even after all this time together, he still has his doubts as to whether or not he believes you should waste an ounce of time on him. he’s come a long way since when you first started dating. but sometimes even the strongest of people need convincing of why they should get to be loved.
bakugou doesn’t run or flinch away, instead he stills his lungs locked away in his chest and waits with baited breath for the blow you might deal him. the doubts start to cloud his mind. “someone who cared for me the way that they do on tv, someone who adored me the way my grandpa loved my grandma…you get it.” you continue, drawing a heart on his stomach with invisible ink.
“yeah, i get it.” the blonde rasps apprehensively.
you push yourself up, bracing yourself on the tussled fabric on bakugou’s side of the bed to cage him in — glassy, tired eyes searching through the soul that swirls in his own. “what i’m trying to say, is that i’ve dreamt of moments like this all my life and now i’ve finally found the person to share it with. no one has ever loved me the way i wanted to be,” from this position you can see the faded constellation of barely there freckles that decorate bakugou’s skin. you see the war he lived and died through etched into worry lines and creases in his skin. you see it all and you love it all. perfectly imperfect just how you imagined it to be.
“not until i met you, kats. you’re the only person who’s loved me enough for me.”
the exhale your husband lets out expels the fear from his chest and replaces it with a glowing feeling — a happiness in the shade of warm toned yellows and oranges. it illuminates katsuki’s face, eases his stress lines and fills him with reassurance.
“i’ll love you enough f’the both of us. always.” he respond, folding a doggy-ear into the corner of the last-read page in his book. bakugou shoves it to the side and let’s his calloused hand cup the back of your neck — it’s weight reminding you of his presence, letting you know that he’s not going anywhere. katsuki is your dream and yours alone.
swooping down, you paint his lips with a feather light kiss and hum at the taste of minty fresh toothpaste intertwined with his promise of forever on them.
“you’ll have to let me give some of that love back,” you say, contentedly. “i need you to know how much of me still loves and dreams of you.”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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Note
What do you think Katniss and Peeta’s unexpected turn ons are? Like a small innocent thing about the other that drives them wild just because they really love them so much? And makes the other one go “really? 😉”
This was way too much fun to answer and got out of hand. I could probably think up a thousand more of these if I had the time.
<3 kdnfb
Canonically, Peeta cannot lie to Katniss and look her in the eyes. When she figures out that he still can’t post-mj, she uses it to her advantage. She can always tell when he’s trying to fib his way out of accidentally revealing an innocuous secret or a surprise he’s planning, like what he’s getting her for her birthday. And it drives her a little insane. Like “either look me in the eyes when you try to lie to me or take me to bed right now, since you won’t give me my present right now.”
Katniss is a consummate caretaker, to an almost annoying degree. Fortunately for her, she husbanded someone with a caretaker kink. That boy was dying of blood poisoning, raging with fever in a deathmatch arena, and he was still laying down the lines and making her laugh. Every time she fusses over him or bosses him around when he’s got a minor injury or just a little sniffling cold, that man is in full on flirt mode and dragging her into bed with him. “I’ve got a surefire way you can make me feel better.” “If we have sex, will you stop whining and get up so I can wash the sheets afterwards?” she sighs in exasperation as she’s stripping off her clothes and crawling under the covers with him.
Meanwhile, Katniss goes feral whenever Peeta gets a little protective of her. Some whackadoo from the Capitol comes out to Twelve to check on the progress of the new medicine factory and brings a limousine with him on the train, but the roads in Twelve are not made for cars like that and the idiot almost runs people over. So of course, Peeta wraps his arm around his wife and bodily lifts her out of the path. One second she’s walking through town, reciting her shopping list, the next she’s pressed up against a storefront with Peeta’s body caging her in and some idiot driver is careening past, honking his horn. And if you think Katniss doesn’t almost climb him right there and he has to toss her over his shoulder to drag her home before she tears his clothes off, I cannot help you.
Both of them become unhinged morons whenever the other one is a complete mess. 
By this I mean Katniss comes in from tending the garden, her shirt all sweaty and clinging to her. Her hair’s a mess and she’s got a little sunburn on her nose and cheeks and Peeta’s already naked, demanding she take him on the spot. 
Similar response when she comes home a little disheveled from a hunt. “At least let me put the meat in the freezer first, Peeta.” Nope. She gets railed up against said freezer and can’t keep a straight face when they have to invite Haymitch over to eat all this meat because they had to cook it immediately after or it would’ve gone bad.
Peeta starts coming home from the bakery deliberately a little messy. Flour in his hair, sugar stuck to his neck. A random smear of frosting on his arm. Why? Because Katniss starts squirming the instant she sees him and honestly, he really likes it when she mounts him in the hallway because she couldn’t make it the five extra feet to the bedroom.
He’s lost count of how many times they’ve had sex because he didn’t get all the paint washed off his hands before a meal or before bed. And he almost never notices the smear of paint or pencil dust that winds up on his left temple because he brushed back his hair at some point while he was painting/drawing and why is that so hot? She has no clue, all she knows is that she wants to bathe in him. Usually, she manages to wait a little while for that one, mainly because she wants to see what he was painting before she jumps him. What he was painting often dictates the flavor of their sex.
He doesn’t paint the Games as much, after the first time she tells him “Real,” but when he does, the sex is tender and usually happens in the art studio itself, on a paint splattered sofa or on the floor, rolling around on his floor tarps so that both of them are smeared with paint afterwards.
If he’s painting her or other people that they love, they’ll make it up to the bedroom before clothes start flying, laughing and teasing each other the entire way. Katniss will be laughing so hard she snorts while she’s moaning and coming at the same time. Peeta lives to make her snort laughing while she’s coming, btw. Huge turn on, switch flipped to feral mode as soon as she's done coming, and Katniss feels like she won’t be able to walk straight for a day after he finishes inside her.
He uses her as a canvas? Well eventually he's gonna wind up covered in paint too. They go until the paint starts to dry and by then, they're sleepy and content and can barely move anymore.
Painting landscapes and nature scenes? Absolutely feral pig sex where the neighbors worry about them and ask each other if they should… knock? Make sure everyone is still alive in there? Katniss really can’t walk straight for a day after that, but she’s not complaining. Instead she’s demanding her husband carry her around, because he did that to her, after all.
Sadly for Katniss, Peeta carrying her around is something she absolutely loves for the tenderness and silliness of it, but also at times it turns her into a raving madwoman "take me to bed and throw me on it then fuck me this instant before I pull out all my hair, husband!"
And ho buddy, when the two of them come home all sweaty and gross from rebuilding the district? Round one on the floor in the entryway. Round two with skin squealing on shower walls and borderline screaming moans echoing off the bathroom walls. Hair pulling, biting, clawing sex. Let me inside your skin, ten minutes later we’re still actively sweating well damn it that shower was fucking pointless in terms of getting clean sex.
Katniss eats her pie backwards, crust first and Peeta doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he thinks it’s adorable and needs to have her instantly. Haymitch wonders why he no longer gets pie on nights when he eats dinner with them. There’s always dessert… but no pie. So Peeta starts baking Haymitch his own pies and dropping them off, because he’s not giving up his absolute need to toss Katniss on the table and eat her out like he’s a dying man whenever she eats her pie like that.
Peeta looks like he’s solving all of the world’s problems when he’s brushing his teeth. So serious. Sometimes, Katniss will throw small objects at his prosthetic until he notices and giggles when he does, looking at her like she’s an annoying brat. Sometimes, she sneaks up behind him and makes faces at him over his shoulder until he laughs and spits out the toothpaste. Other times, her hands on him are incredibly naughty and the next thing he knows, he looks like a rabid animal in the mirror while he’s bent over the sink, holding on for dear life with her hands on his dick, unraveling him one caress and stroke at a time. But whatever she does, it ends with their sheets an absolute wreck and both of them naked and sweaty and staring at the ceiling going “Wow. So that… happened…”
Katniss bites her nails when she’s nervous and Peeta fixes it by snatching her hand and kissing her from her fingertips up her arms to her neck… where he blows a raspberry until she’s laughing. Do smutty things happen after that? Depends on the setting.
Peeta still flirts with her. Like blatantly, let's see how red I can get my wife’s face flirting with her over the bakery counter or in the town square, in front of literally everyone’s salad. And Katniss just melts like a loon but is secretly plotting how to get him naked asap. She’s not against throwing him against the nearest tree if only there weren’t so many people in the district. Oh but she’s absolutely savaged him against several trees in the woods because he was flirting.
Peeta whistles when he’s working in the bakery. Katniss thinks it’s adorable and sexy as hell. She sings in the shower and Peeta never misses the show, sitting on the toilet or just standing against the sink just to hear her sing. It’s the only time he manages to move silently.
Katniss cannot keep her hands out of Peeta’s hair. Girl is obsessed. And Peeta finds it at turns, adorable, adorably annoying, a mild turn on, or holy hell hot. Like “pull my hair again when I make you come” hot. Conversely, she absolutely loves it when Peeta brushes and braids her hair for her. He’s trying to have a tender, loving moment, and she’s often “are you done yet because as soon as that hair tie is on, i’m gonna be all over you.”
Both of them absolutely love it when the other one laughs. It’s not always a turn on, per se, but when it is… lord have mercy they broke a whole ass bed one time because Peeta laughed at something Katniss said.
Peeta wearing loose, soft pajama pants or the like. Katniss is all hot and bothered and “i’m not that big you can definitely fit me in there with you…” Peeta looks at her like she’s lost it, but they actually do try it once or twice. Numerous pairs of pants have been ripped and sewn back together in this pursuit, and not because she couldn’t fit in there with him.
He’s long since accepted that if they’re dressing up for some occasion, he has to get dressed two hours early. To give Katniss enough time to rip it all off and have her way with him and still have time for them to shower and get dressed again so they’re not late.
Anytime Katniss wears one of his shirts, sweaters, etc, he’s pretty sure he’s going to die unless he gets his mouth or hands on her and then his cock inside her because half the time, she’s not wearing a bra or pants with them, just panties, and he just… has to have her. NOW. While said garment is still on her body. Especially a particular red sweater he was wearing the day they had sex the first time and she wore it the morning after.
She absolutely has a sunset orange nightie that nearly gets removed (or not removed) every time she wears it, but removed or not… either way, Katniss can’t feel her toes after Peeta makes her come as many times as he can whenever she wears it. 
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sebsbarnes · 4 months
Note
Hi there!
I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!
Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?
Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?
Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.
So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭
I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!
Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33
heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!
bar fight || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
warnings: harassment, fighting
word count: 1.6k+
masterlist
a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely
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"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.
"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.
lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"
the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."
lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.
"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.
"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.
the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.
"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.
"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.
"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.
"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.
it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.
"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.
"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.
"thanks."
"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.
"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.
"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.
"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.
you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.
there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.
"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.
"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."
tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.
you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.
you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.
tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.
"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.
"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"
tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.
tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"
you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."
"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.
"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.
"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.
"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.
tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.
"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.
you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."
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princessfbi · 1 month
Note
Cuddling with caretaker in a warm shower/bath + buddie
Buck shuddered against him, making the water ripple around them in tiny waves against the porcelain of the tub. The smallest of whimpers croaked past dry swollen lips and Eddie shushed the noise as it puffed against the hollow skin of his throat.
“I know, baby,” he said, dipping the washcloth into the water before squeezing it at the base of Buck’s shoulders so the water would cascade down his spine.
Eddie had tried to talk Buck into letting him stay out on the side so he could have the complete space of the tub for his long limbs to curl into. But one choked plea and a pair of red rimmed, exhausted blue eyes had had Eddie stripping off his clothes and joining him. Buck had barely let Eddie get situated before he turned on his front and curled into Eddie’s chest, shivering from the fever induced chill that had been wrecking his system for over forty-eight hours.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Buck so sick. Worry had prickled under his skin and latched on with nettles so he couldn’t shake it off, practically drawing blood the longer and longer Buck’s fever raged on.
At least he wasn’t heaving though. Not that Eddie thought he could. Buck had barely been able to stand let alone work up the bile and empty air and the very few sips of water he’d managed to get down.
His stomach, however, hadn’t seemed to get the picture.
Every chance Buck drifted off to sleep had been interrupted with a whine and a curl of his body. He’d thought the hot bath would help. Or, if anything, would allow Buck’s body to unclench so he wasn’t in so much pain!
It had worked for a while. Eddie’s butt had gone numb and the water lukewarm that he’d had to add some more hot water by stretching up to the turn the faucet with his toe. But Buck had relaxed against his chest and hid his too cold nose against the base of Eddie’s throat. Eddie had kept up his ministrations, trickling water down his back and sweeping his hands so he could give him just a little bit of warmth; so he could take the pain away for just a little bit longer. Eventually, Buck had drifted and if he hadn’t been asleep then he’d at least gotten close. Eddie would’ve happily stayed there for ever.
Buck twitched against him and Eddie braced himself for the worst of it. His arm was half way out of the tub to grab the trash can he’d pulled over before they got in. Eddie locked down the panic in his throat that wanted to claw its way to his heart with all the racing thoughts in his head.
No. No please. He can’t keep doing this. He needs these fluids. He’s already suffered enough. Please. Please. Please!
He’d promised Buck no hospital but that creeping realization that the very real possibility that he may have to break that promise very soon was getting closer and closer each second Buck didn’t get better.
Buck pressed his face into the hollow of Eddie’s throat, stiffening like he was frozen in time, and Eddie waited.
There wasn’t much else he could do. Not without IVs and people with more medical knowledge than he had under his belt.
But then Buck sighed and he sagged further into Eddie’s as the water shifted around them.
Eddie pressed a kiss against Buck’s head and dunked the washcloth back into the water.
“It’s okay,” Eddie said as he curled an arm around Buck and squeezed out the water over Buck’s spine. Buck whimpered again as he burrowed impossibly close and settled deeper into Eddie’s hold. “It’s okay.”
143 notes · View notes