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dudeitiskarev · 1 month

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I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

Word count: 2.4k.

Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.

Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.

Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.

You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.

“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.

“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”

“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”

The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.

It was his soul returning to his body.

He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.

All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.

You were alive.

“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.

Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.

“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.

Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.

“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.

“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.

“JJ?”

“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”

Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.

“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”

It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.

“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.

“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”

Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.

This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.

“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.

“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”

Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.

God, if you don’t ever wake up—

“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.

She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.

“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.

“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”

Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.

“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”

Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.

“García,” Gideon insisted.

A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.

“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.

Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.

“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”

Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.

It was just you and him.

The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.

As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.

Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.

He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.

Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.

He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.

His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.

“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”

He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.

You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.

“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.

He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.

“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.

“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”

It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.

“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”

You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.

Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.

It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.

Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.

Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.

“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”

He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.

“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.

It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.

“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.

Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.

You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”

It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.

He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.

A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.

Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.

Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.

Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.

Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.

“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.

Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.

“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.

You were awake.

Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.

You coughed and writhed with discomfort.

“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.

You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”

Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.

“Hi,” he merely said.

You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.

“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.

“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”

“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.

This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.

“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”

The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”

“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.

The guilt was still there.

“But I didn’t.”

“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.

“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

“It looks good. I like it.”

He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.

“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.

“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.

Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.

“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”

“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.

“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”

I love you, he thought.

“How could I not?” he said instead.

Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.

I hope you liked it!!!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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gyuswhore · 21 days

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Shut Up (don't)

anniversary event [closed]

lee seokmin x reader

prompt(s): carrying on the argument between sloppy kisses and heavy make out

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), mean words are thrown at one another while they're fighting, heavy makeouts, fingering (f. rec), breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, soff ending bc im a sap

[a/n]: i have nothing to say. enjoy.

masterlist

Nearly getting rearended, and then breaking the heel of your shoe, to becoming the receiving end of another plethora of snarky remarks from the department weasel; it was all beginning to spill over the rim of your too warm, too full cup.

All you wanted was to eat a good meal in front of another mindless TV show and nap the weekend away in the arms of your favourite person. Hence why the excitement at your front door was overflowing, creaking the door open to find a darker than usual hallway. You can only slip off your broken shoes and deposit your keys and bag so quickly, barely considering the amount of noise you’re making with all the shuffling and clanging in the doorway.

“Seok! Babe, are you home?” you raise your voice a little as you enter the kitchen, slamming the grocery bags down on the counter with a loud huff. You peek out the door into the dark halls, brows furrowed.

Opting to put away the perishables first, you grunt as you stand back up after stuffing all the frozen packages into the freezer, hand supporting your lower back. You were more tired than you’d initally thought.

Shuffling into the living room, your turn on the lights, remaining confused as ever as to why they were off. Even in an empty house, at least one of the lights would remain on.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you register the lump on the now visible couch, taking a moment to realise it was your boyfriend, still in the clothes he had left in this morning.

He’s shifting, groaning as he comes around to reveal his face, eyes bleary and face slightly red from sleep.

“Oh,” he grimaces as he realises you were the one to turn the lights back on. “You’re home.”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch? Have you eaten yet?” you ask your boyfriend who’s now attempting rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“No,” he confirms, voice still scratchy. “I’m gonna change and go to bed.”

“Wait, I did the groceries before coming home. I can make you your favourite. You can go to bed after you eat,” you insist.

He doesn’t answer as he simply rises and makes his way towards the hall leading the bedroom.

“Seok? Honey, I’ll be quick, I promise. Twenty minutes tops and then you can go to bed.”

Catching up to him, you grab his hand in an attempt to get him to look at you, which he does. Except he looks…annoyed? He brushes another hand across his hair and face, looking more exasperated by the second.

“I’m not hungry,” he says, slower than usual. Like it was taking an effort to get the words out. “Now can you please just—”

“You can’t go to bed empty stomached, you’ll wake up with a headache!”

“You’re giving me a fucking headache right now.”

You freeze.

On instinct, you drop his hand, letting it ball into fists at his side. He blinks for a long moment, pinching his nose bridge, before turning around entirely to continue his retreat back into the bedroom.

It’s like you’ve snapped out of a daze when you register his retreating form, zero comment from either of you after the bomb he’d planted in the room.

“You don’t get to say that to me and then walk away,” you say, and he’s still not stopping. “You aren’t the only one who’s had a shit day, at least I’m not being an ass about it.”

That seems to do it for him, turning around with furrowed brows and an open mouth that’s ready to shoot back. “This is your problem, you can’t leave things alone.”

“I’m sorry that I care if my boyfriend’s starving himself?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, the heat of the situation creating an emerging buzz in your head.

“Don’t care then! Your idea of helping is whatever you want done for you, have you considered that I just want to be left alone?” He tries to control his arms movements but they explode into some waving motion anyway, eyes meeting yours in a wide, angry, accusatory hold.

“Seokmin.” His name leaves your mouth in an unbelievable laugh. “Are you listening to yourself?”

“How can I over all that clanging and banging you do the minute you step foot into this house?!”

“You know what?” you begin.

“God, just shut up, I can’t do this with you right now.”

“This is beginning to sound like you have a problem with me.”

“I just said—”

“No! Just fucking say it. Moving in together was a bad idea and you wish you’d never asked!” You know you sound hysterical, arms thrown over head as you fight the urge to push something over.

“Stop it.”

“I’m trying to make this work with our schedules but if you’re gonna blow up anytime you don’t get your way—”

Seokmin tries to shut you up again, only this time he succeeds.

In the midst of your rampage he’d crossed the distance between the both of you, opting to slam his mouth onto yours instead of using his words.

Both of his hands have gotten hold of your face, keeping you from moving your mouth in an way except against his own. He’s taken away your power, your hands come up to grasp his forearms.

“Seok—” you start again, but he only plants his lips on you again, sliding his tongue at the seam of your mouth to intrude even further.

You’re mad at him. It’s taking alot to remind yourself of that. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want to listen to you. He…

Even Seokmin, with all his other worldly breath control, can’t keep his mouth on your forever, leaving your swollen lips to let you both breathe for a moment.

“What the fuck is this supposed to be doing?’ you ask, breathless but angry.

“Shutting you up,” he reponds, gripping your waist so hard it almost hurts, shoving your entire body right into his personal space.

You aren’t any better than him, bringing your hands up to his hair, tugging at the strands just to have something to grip on to.

“This isn’t over,” you mumble between wet, sloppy kisses, already half gone.

“Like hell it isn’t,” Seokmin grunts, letting go only to pull you onto the warm couch, caging you between the armrest and his own overbearing body. He’s taking over you from all sides, the muddle of your mind unbecoming of the anger that coursed through you just minutes prior.

Pairing that with your existing exhaustion, your mind seems to be skipping over most of the filler scenes that unfold.

Your top is gone to wind before you can register his fingers working the buttons. His hands have reached underneath your tight skirt, fiddling with the waistband of your stockings. He’s struggling with the overlapping fabrics, the existing difficulty of handling stockings earning a dissatisfied grunt from his throat.

Opening your eyes, shifting them to focus on Seokmin’s face, you don’t doubt you look just as fucked out as he does. Pupils dilated, hair dishevelled and sticking out from everywhere, clothes barely framing where they belong. He’s growing frustrated as he instead attempts to shuck your skirt off.

“Just—” He cuts you off again, even as you try to help with the wretched zipper.

“Not a word out of your mouth,” he says, almost like it’s a plea, shielded under his scratchy growl. “Not until I’m done.”

This is nothing like you’ve ever seen before, your sweet, gentle boyfriend had turned into some deep monster from hell, like the events of tonight unsheathed some unfed entity that only festered on its ignorance. Despite everything, you can’t seem to complain, enjoying every bit of this as every passing moment only stacks the already leaning tower.

And when you thought he couldn’t get any more unhinged, you hear the distinct sound of a rip!

He’s ripped your tights.

“Seok, I just bought those!” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

He doesn’t answer you this time, opting to let his fingers do the talking. You feel a distinct pressure on your hot core, and you’re immediately putty. Seokmin is rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of your panties, steady, but just enough to have you bucking your hips uncontrollably every so couple seconds. Your breathing is loud, bordering whimpers as you squeeze your eyes shut.

It’s criminal the way he pushes into your core, stuffing you with bulk of his finger and the fabric of your underwear. And just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, he removes hands entirely.

You nearly scream, the ache becoming near unbearable. He’s shuffling around to take his clothes off but you couldn’t care less if he fucked you half dressed. He’s naked before you can do something about it yourself, immediately planting himself back on you.

“Put that mouth to better use,” he whispers, bringing two of his fingers to your lips, letting them push past and rest on your tongue. You start sucking on them instantly, tongue running over his long, beautiful fingers, letting him shove them as far as you’d let him.

When he relents, he only slips them somewhere else. You watch between your flushed bodies as his sticky, glistening fingers disappear, sliding inside your ready, coated walls. Hands finding purchase on the bulk of his shoulders, he lets you dig your nails into his pristine tan skin as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Throwing your head back you can only groan into the empty ceiling at the feeling.

“God, Seok that feels so good.”

He goes faster, deeper, separating his fingers inside you to test your limits. Finding that spongy spot, he shows no signs of relenting, now pistoning into you.

When he stops, you come round to watch him line his hard member up to your entrance, not giving you a moment to register the emptiness. Except, you stop him.

“Wait,” you breathe out, pushing yourself on your elbows.

“What?” he asks, like he’s been snapped out of a trance. You maintain eye contact as you push him into a sitting position on the couch, letting his back hit the plush of the pillows. You take the opportunity to slide out of your torn and tattered tights, feeling the muscle of his thighs as you sit on his lap.

“Fuck,” he curses when he realises what you’re doing.

You readjust, grabbing his hard shaft, pumping him slowly as you prepare to line him up to your entrance again. Pushing your chest into his face during the process, he wastes no time in latching his mouth over the lace of your bra, licking over the fabric, pushing the tip of his tongue right where your nipple was.

It send waves of shocks right into your core, busying the tip of his cock to rub itself on your dropping hole, savouring the feeling. Seokmin’s thrown your bra away, his mouth now in full contact with your breasts, tongue flicking across the nipple as he nips and sucks to his heart’s content. His fingers flick over your other nipple, pinching and stimulating it just the same. The sight of his fingers is doing so much to you, enough to encourage you to sink into his cock with finality.

It’s a stretch, but nothing you haven’t been practiced to handle. He has a hand low on your hips, guiding your ass to sit on him fully. When you move it’s easier, the pleasure returning in its waves and sparks.

“Fuck, Seok,” you whimper, as you start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, ass slapping his thighs.

You find a place holder behind you on his knee, reaching one of your hands back to clasp his skin, the other finds reprieve in his hair, mouth still sucking on your breast.

His palm rests on your ass, guiding you up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm, moaning into the plump of your breast. Letting go of your nipple, he throws his head back in a guttural moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. He continues to play with the swell of your breasts, fondling and groping.

Taking advantage of the access, you lean into neck, pressing kisses onto the expanse, suckling on a spot near his ear, savouring the salt of his skin on your tongue. Your hips continue to bounce on him, but inevitably slow as you feel the burn on your thighs and hips.

One particular landing is felt with a harsh buck of Seokmin’s own hips and you realise with a loud moan that he’s meeting you halfway, finishing what you started. Soon he’s created a pace of his own, thrusting his well oiled hips into you so good it has you blinking away the gleam of stars.

“Baby,” your voice comes out pleading, and he knows exactly what you’re trying to say.

“Come, baby, it’s alright. Come all over me.”

Taking his words to your cunt, you oblige, letting yourself come undone. It’s loud, it’s desperate and it’s raw, needing to wrap your arms around him in a latch for support. He smells like him, and it’s making the high continue to wreck your body in waves that won’t end.

Seokmin cums just as your coming down from your own high, tightening his hold on you as he rams his cock into your overstimulated cunt to get his own fill of pleasure. His thighs stutter beneath you, his sounds deep and loud.

By the time he’s done neither of you have enough air in your lungs to say a word, slumped over one another as you catch your breaths.

Seokmin is the first to recover, and your fluttering eyelids drift open at the feeling of his lips on your shoulders, leaving butterfly kisses as you remain curled into his chest, head on the crook of his neck.

You’re uncomfortably warm, but you cuddle into his chest closer, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. His lips have found your temple, seemingly not caring for your sticky, sweaty skin as he trails his kisses to your cheek, right next to your ear.

“I’m sorry for blowing up on you like that. I always want you to care, please forget about what I said,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s enough to have you shuffle impossibly closer into his naked chest. It’s like you’ve molded into each other’s skin.

“I’m sorry too, for not being understand and for blowing up on you as well. I should’ve handled my emotions better.” You lift your head for a moment to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s jaw, and then find his lips.

He kisses you so softly it hurts, pecks of affirmation between his “sorry”s.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your lips, and you cup his jaw as he pulls away ever so slightly.

You can see a stretch at the corner of his lips and you realise he’s smiling; you almost weep at the sight.

Kissing him again, you whisper right back, “I love you more.”

“Please don’t ever leave.”

“Never.”

“Promise?”

You let out a little giggle, “Promise. As long as you won’t ever leave me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, nothing but love in his eyes.

“We still have to talk about what happened,” you say, brushing the pad of your finger across his cheek.

“I know, and we will,” he gulps. “I think we need to sleep on it.”

You agree quietly, but quip anyway. “If I had to take a shot, I’d bet it on all that pent up energy you just unleashed. I think you feel better right now.”

He exhales through his nose, slightly embarrassed at being called out, but replies nonetheless. “It…it probably was. I do feel less tense.”

“Hm,” you hum, bringing you arms to wrap around his neck, tucking your mouth right near his ear. You trace a lone finger down the center of his chest.

“Since we’ve decided this is a topic for tomorrow, do you think you’ve got a little more frustration in there to let out?”

He’s still sheathed inside you, and you can feel his length begin to harden.

You don’t realise what’s happening as you feel yourself being jerked forward, suddenly suspended in his arms as he struts towards the bedroom. Arms tightened, a hint of a squeal escapes you, and you can only giggle as he tickles whispered promises into your neck.

Promises that you can count on him to fulfill.

#🎁gyuswhoreturns1!#svthub #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #dokyeom smut #dokyeom angst #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom imagines #svt smut #svt fluff #dk smut #seokmin smut #seokmin fluff #dokyeom

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jeonstellate · 3 months

Text

my future in your eyes

mingyu still holds onto you, even after all this time.

๑彡 kim mingyu x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 divorced!au/ex-husband!au, post-break up!au, exes-to-lovers!au — fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from zack tabudlo’s as you are.

๑彡 i’m lowk proud of this ngl bc— it’s fluff, but it took me relatively quick to finish?? usually i get stuck for weeks if the wip’s fluff ><

Kim Mingyu is a man of confidence.

Not that he uses his confidence to swindle strangers, as the dictionary suggests the title means. Rather, he exudes confidence — regardless of what he does.

There is always an air confidence around him. He can be in clothes that don’t fit the event’s theme and he’ll still seem perfectly dressed. He can be barely conversant in another language and he’ll still sound like he knows what he’s saying. He can just be standing there, doing nothing, and he’ll still appear like he’s doing something right.

Some people mistake his confidence for arrogance. Most find it admirable. But, in truth, Mingyu hardly cares.

Especially if his so-called confidence vanishes whenever you are in the vicinity and within his line of sight. Just like now.

He sees you in a table with Seokmin. Your back is towards him but he recognizes you, anyway. Despite the distance, he has no problem witnessing how animatedly you talk with your common friend.

It’s almost like he is back in college: you and Seokmin in one row, him and Minghao a few rows back. He can almost hear Minghao state matter-of-factly, "You’re staring," like he often does back then.

Really, all that’s different is Minghao’s currently preoccupied being the groom to comment on his staring. (There are definitely more things that are different now, but he doesn’t want to even begin thinking about them.)

Seokmin catches his stare. Not soon after, specifically before Mingyu can even look away, he sees him leave the table. Seokmin throws him a familiar meaningful look before disappearing into the dance floor.

Truth be told, Mingyu’s confidence comes naturally. It isn’t something that he purposely channels. It’s just always there . . . unless you are involved. Then, suddenly, he has to painstakingly gather the confidence to be near you.

"Is this seat taken?" He tries his hardest to mask his awestruck look with one of kind politeness as he waits your response.

He almost forgot how to breathe when your eyes lock into his. "You may sit if you wish," you offer him a small, polite smile. "I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon."

"Thanks." He effortlessly returns your gesture before situating himself on the chair your common friend abandoned. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"Really well, actually. I didn’t expect to recognize a lot of people from college." Your eyes don’t leave his as you answer. He tries not to stare back too intently, to look within your eyes to see something . . . anything. "And you?"

Mingyu waits for a beat, gathering enough confidence to say what he wants to. "Better now that you’re here." With me.

He lets out a barely audible embarrassed laugh. He has half a mind to take it back, but quickly changes his mind when he sees you biting your lower lip — an obvious attempt to stop yourself from laughing.

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. There’s pride in knowing he’s still able to make you laugh, despite it being your first meeting in literal years.

You look down in a presumable attempt to calm yourself down. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, though, as he refuses to lose you from his sight. As such, he immediately notices the sudden shift in your expression.

"You’re still wearing it." Mingyu follows your line of sight — and ends up looking at the source of your comment. His hand on the table, specifically the band of gold adorning his ring finger. "Our ring."

Our wedding ring.

You and Mingyu married soon after graduating from college. It had been a blissful marriage, one that filled a home with nothing but love and support.

Your divorce was on the basis of irreconcilable differences. It was a mutual decision, for the interest of your career paths diverging too far. There was never a bad blood.

"Ye— yeah." Mingyu stutters involuntarily. He clears his throat before continuing, "It’s a great conversational piece."

Although the divorce has been finalized years ago, Mingyu still plays the faithful and loving husband role in front of strangers. He uses the ring on his finger to his advantage: may that be to wordlessly signal that he’s already taken or to gain the favor of a potential sponsor.

Likewise, even if he knows the ring might be a disadvantage, he refuses to take it off — nor to purposely hide it from sight. The same way he never tells a stranger that he is no longer tied to someone else.

"Does it work?" You ask in wonder.

"We are conversing now, aren’t we?"

You chuckle, "Touché."

Mingyu wants to tell you that he hasn’t taken the ring off since you slipped it on his finger during your wedding. Not even after your divorce has been finalized all those years ago.

He wants to tell you his ring finger is thinner near his palm because of his adamant refusal to take his wedding ring off once in a while. Not willing to separate from the only physical reminder of your marriage, not even for a second.

He wants to tell you the ring is more than a conversational piece. He wants to tell you it’s his lifeline, something he can’t bear to lose. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Mingyu uses all the confidence he has gathered to ask you a simple question. "Dance with me?"

He offers you the hand adorned by his wedding ring. He tries not to show the uncertainty he feels by masking it behind a smile.

He almost lets out a relieved sigh when you place your hand on top of his. But he stops breathing momentarily when he catches sight of the sole jewelry adorning your hand.

"You’re still wearing it," Mingyu echoes your comment breathlessly. "Our ring."

He snaps his eyes back to your face, just in time to witness your smile widen. "Yeah," you say. "It’s a great talisman to ward off potential suitors."

He leads you to the dance floor, silently marveling at how your hand still fits perfectly with his. "Does it work?"

"It’s very effective," you assure him. "Although I don’t think it works well against ex-husbands."

Another slow song starts playing right when you reach the dance floor. You and Mingyu unconsciously claim your respective hand placements during your first dance — and for any waltz you danced after.

Then, suddenly, it’s like you traveled back in time.

Mingyu pulls you closer, a ghost of a smirk is at the edge of his lips. "I think it works well attracting ex-husbands."

#kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #kim mingyu oneshots #mingyu oneshots #seventeen oneshots #ex-husband!au #post-break up!au #exes-to-lovers!au #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen

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astarionancuntnin · 2 months

Text

listen, obviously i love astarion for multiple reasons, but ironically when i first started the game i wasnt interested in him, at all. i was fully commited to finding karlach and dating her bc of what i had seen online about her. i had barely heard or seen anything about him other than him being "the flirty vampire" and i was like eh okay

i ended up keeping him in my party cause his remarks were hilarious and i really vibed with his energy. and then he started opening up and you get to see how the whole overconfidence and flirting was an act, he starts talking about cazador and what he went through and how determinate he is to take him down. he keeps mentioning how he cannot wait to get rid of his master and how satisfied hes going to be, and hes smiling just thinking about it

then we learn about the ritual and theres this sudden spark in him, hes convinced that its the answer to his problems, he gets tunnel vision on the ritual, and if you romance him he also thinks its the only way he can assure not only his own safety, but also yours.

and when you finally win the fight, you have to save him from himself. hes desperate, completely blinded by the power he could potentially have. if he has this power, hes never going to be vulnerable, no one will abuse him ever again.

he is willing to lose himself to make sure he never gets hurt like this. even with high approval, if you dont succeed a persuasion roll or refuse to help him, he either turns against you or leaves your party. in his eyes, at this moment, you are the one who turned against him.

if you suceed the persuasion roll, he agrees that he can be better than cazador, and before stabbing him repeatedly, mentions (again) how hes going to enjoy this

only to break down right after. even though its something hes been wanting to do for centuries, all the suffering hes been through came crumbling down after it was done. cazador is dead, hes the one who killed him, he finally got his revenge, and yet he feels this emptiness.

its done, why do i not feel better?

if you saved him, he talks to you later and admits how he wasn't himself, how thankful he is that you helped him out and most of all, you believed in him. you saved him by believing he could be more than what he saw in himself.

if you talk to him after completing dame aylin's quest in act 3 (after killing cazador), he mentions how he expected her to rejoice after defeating yet another person who intended to enslave her, but shes just tired. hes comparing her reaction to his own experience after freeing himself from his abuser

and after karlach's reaction to killing gortash, he brings up the fact that theres "no justice in this world". contrary to what he believed earlier in the game, its not only him thats been wronged for several years. even though in the end they all got to get rid of the people who ruined their lives, they are still hurting.

hes realising that killing your abuser, although it seemed like the simple, satisying solution of finally having your revenge from years of trauma, might free you, but it will not fix you. they're dead, but you still have to live with what they've done to you.

he is my roman empire

#i..................cant stop thinking about him #my posts #astarion #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #pookie making me process my own trauma frfr #baldur's gate 3

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ferrstappen · 10 months

Text

max, the wag (for the third time) l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: i was in the middle of writing this when news of Danny coming back to the grid!!! omg I'm so happy of seeing RIC and listening to his radios and everything, it wasn't the same without him <3

also, about requests. Please keep sending them, I've LOVED all the reqs I've gotten but right now im getting ready for my bar exam in a couple of weeks so my time is super super limited, but I promise I'll get to most of them (bc imsorry there are some reqs that I really can't connect with) after the exam, it's one of the things I'm looking forward to <3 but for now this kind of mediocre story telling will have to do...

ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS INSTALLMENT! you can find part 1 and 2 on the master list <3

summary: the continuation of your favorite paddock couple.

Max arrived to the track by himself.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t on his plans to walk alone with the photographers, Red Bull marketing team snatching him for stuff right after he swapped his credential. Even from far away he was able to hear chants of fans and more media than usual.

But you weren’t right there next to him.

He knew it wasn’t your fault, Silverstone not being a track where he was usually welcomed with opened arms and he was aware of you not wanting to be too in the eye of photographers who didn’t make questions to you, but there still were different WAGs and outfits or whatever accounts tracking your every step, especially with the new wave of partners and sudden break ups and polemics.

Still, the selfish part of him wanted you to enter the track with him, even if it was a few steps ahead or behind him, holding your hand and smiling as you complained about the amount of credentials you had to carry: the usual green VIP Paddock, Red Bull something. You’d think after all these years they’d know me, you’d say and he’d laugh.

On the other hand, you finished getting ready and called the front desk to get a taxi to get there, feeling a bit guilty of letting Max go on his own, especially when there were more eyes on the track with Brad Pitt being there and a lot of important people who’d want to talk with him all day.

Texting Max to let him know you were already by the guests entrance waiting when you noticed some intense flashes getting near. You’d been around a time or two to know this wasn’t usual, maybe in Miami but not when you were on the abandoned back entrance, not very glamorous and low key.

But you saw her…

Shakira, are you visiting Lewis?

Who are you cheering today?

Shakira, third Grand Prix of the year!

Did you talk to Lewis before? Is he nervous?

Your eyes followed her, mouth opening when you followed her small frame, exuding class and sympathy, even Alexandra who was also making her entrance stopped to get a closer look of the Colombian bombshell.

Of course, they didn’t ask her to show and get accredited, she just walked by with a radiant smile leaving paparazzi behind as she kept talking with the friend she came with.

But wasn’t that a Haas credential?

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important, because right then your brain made the connections and started dialing Max while nervously biting your polished nails.

“Baby, everything okay? Are you already inside?” Max answered, but his words were quiet and rushed.

“Yes, but you’re never going to believe…”

“I’m sorry we have a meeting, please don’t go to the paddock, go straight to the driver’s lounge, okay? Love you”

He hung up and you wanted to pull your hair out, knowing he is the one and only person you wanted to share this information with, and you were also certain he was the only person who would truly appreciate the gossip and speculation about his fellow driver’s love life.

Max was able to leave the meeting almost forty minutes later, getting outside for some air until he remembered your call and that you probably were bored to death on the lounge. He was turning around to go there when…

When he saw the one and only Shakira in all of her glory.

He wasn’t starstruck or anything, being immune to celebrities and the imaginary pedestal where most people placed them, but this wasn’t about that, it was about the way she was supposedly hiding under a cap walking towards the Mercedes garage.

He covered his mouth and hastily made his way to you.

You didn’t greet each other with the usual peck on the lips and short hug; his slightly widened blue eyes told you exactly what you needed to know as he opened the door to his small room.

“Please tell me that you saw her!” You said as soon as he closed the door.

“Yes, just now she was walking to Mercedes,” Max was whisper shouting as if someone would hear him and it was the highest of secrets.

“Did you see Lewis?” You asked Max but he said no. “What if you try to ask Brad Pitt if he saw her and like if they’re friends… with Shakira?” This time both you and your boyfriend laughed at the idea.

"I did see Sainz trying to go unnoticed with a tall brunette,do you think she is the new girlfriend?" Max asked and you nodded.

"I'm pretty sure he cheated on Isa with her, and I am almost certain she was in the Paddock Club in Monaco during qualifying," Max whistled at the new information.

Now he kissed you, lips fitting perfectly against each other, but your eyes suddenly opened and separated from him. What? Why? What happened? Max was disconcerted.

“Please don’t laugh at me because this is a serious idea…” You told Max who had your entire attention. “What if we write to Deuxmoi?”

“Deux what?”

“They have all the inside scoops and sightings, even your name’s popped up once or twice,” Max’s eyebrows rose at the information. “We should write that Shakira was seen on the British Grand Prix and I am one hundred percent sure someone will have more information!” You proposed and Max chuckled.

“Schatz, I can just ask Lewis why she’s here,” Max told you before embracing you, his arms circled around your waist.

You rolled your eyes before resting your head on his chest, but suddenly it hit you, swiftly lifting your head and facing Max.

“Then why haven’t you asked him yet?!”

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x you #max verstappen series #f1 fic #f1 masterlist #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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c4qwp · 4 months

Text

felix catton x fem!reader

| he falls hard for you

📎 tags : fluff, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix bc i’m such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, (my first post…), felix being a fucking cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned

📎 words count : oof idk but not a lot 💀🔥🔥🔥😜😜😜

📎 author's note : this is my first post (so first story), don’t hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn’t my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

felix was a charming, flirty, wealthy and captivating man. everyone loved him. everyone wanted to be around him. it exhausted him. people just wouldn't leave him alone. especially the girls. but he didn’t care about them, you were the exception.

you've only known felix for 6 months, but that hasn't stopped you from liking each other's personalities —and physiques. you're a new student from california studying at oxford, and the handsome british guy hasn't stopped coming to see you to find out more about you.

it all started with a laugh he heard in the hallway. a cute one he thought. and that's how he first saw you.

"hello?" you called loudly when you noticed eyes on you.

the sunlight illuminated felix perfectly as he met your gaze. you were just too cute. your doe eyes watching him while scanning him up and down due to his height.

"hey sorry- ive never seen you here before, are you new?" he asked.

as you were telling your friend to wait for you, an other guy appeared besides the stranger.

"felix where the fuck have you been mate??" a man with curly hair said.

"dude i’m busy let’s talk later" felix replied.

"hey sor-"

and you were gone.

felix didn’t even catch your name and it disappointed him. he likes to meet new people, even more when they’re cute like you.

a month passed after this rather short meeting. as you were revising in the library, a voice called out to you.

"oh hey arent you the new student?"

felix. you heard about him, only good thingd though. you’ve met him but his — pretty face, made you speechless. you felt shy in front of him. now there you are, sitting like an idiot and saying nothing. gosh.

"oh — uhmm hey!" you relied a bit nervously.

"hey! sorry i think we'd met before but hadn't talked more" he said.

"yes i remember." you introduced yourself and smiled.

"i’m felix catton nice to meet you as well" he smiled in turn.

"yeahh i heard about you, felix" you smirked and closed your book.

"oh yeah? i hope you've heard good things about me haha" he said.

"mmhh who knows?" you teased him.

while there was a small blank, he glimpsed your book.

"wait aint no way you’re reading harry potter?!" he said, trying to whisper as much as possible so as not to disturb the other students.

"way. i really like reading books. they're better than movies. and this is not the first time that i’m reading it." you replied.

"it’s my favorite book and it feels good to meet someone who thinks the same about it." he said with a big smile on his face.

it was getting late and you had to get back to your dorm to phone your best friend, who unfortunately wasn't at the same university as you. you exchanged phone numbers and then left.

one day.

one fucking day.

you two were apart for only a day. he sent you the first message and you answered them. he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your eyes and your voice. it was the same for you.

even though you'd only been messaging each other for 2 weeks, he asked you if you wanted to go out somewhere. of course, you agreed and offered to go for a coffee to take a break from studying.

you put on a beautiful white summer dress that showed off your body.

‘i hope i’m not overdoing it...’ you thought.

03:17PM

"i’m so sorry for being late—…" you whispered to the man with a glass of soda against his lips, letting him know you were tired and done with the conversation. your eyes sparkling with joy, your lips curling up into a gleeful smile when you locked eyes with the person you had been craving to see all evening. he hadn't missed one night, not a single one. he was right on time. right there to stay with you, make you feel comfortable, talk to you all night.

you'd laugh, he'd watch.

he'd talk, you'd listen.

"no no don’t wo—" as he turned to answer you, he was stunned by your beauty.

his eyes wandered up and down your face. you noticed him and smiled at him.

‘i hate the way you make me feel — my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet i find it merely impossible to look away.’

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton x y/n #saltburn #saltburn x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #fluff #felix catton fluff #fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi #one shot

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lowkeyremi · 5 months

Note

Hi there!! I’ve read some of your works I they’re really good- you’re so talented and amazing 😭✋🏾

Bakugou x reader where he slips reader a letter telling her to proofread his letter to Santa and she’s like:??? but doesn’t judge bc she loves him, and it says that he’s asking Santa for a wife 😭🥰 and then when she looks down he’s on one knee 🥺

All I want for Christmas is You k. bakugo x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS SO CUTE OMG IM GIGGLING STOPPPP i was about to say at his grown age he got a santa list but it made more sense after I read the rest :3

content: fluff, established relationship, bakugo is silly

The old grandfather clock that Katsuki insisted he needed chimes loudly to announce the arrival of the next hour. You were in the kitchen getting a little snack before winding down for bed.

As you continued preparing your snack your boyfriend made his presence know in the kitchen with his humming.

"What's that?" He asks looking over your shoulder.

"I'm trying something new." You explain, taking a look at it for yourself. Honestly, you don't know what to call it. His eyes travel down to your feet where he can see you aren't wearing socks or your house slippers.

"How many times do I have to tell ya to wear something on your feet? You'll get sick." He complains for the umpteenth time this week.

"Mhm I know. I need you to be quiet you're breaking my concentration." He finds it cute how your tongue is slightly poking out as you try to frost this.. interesting looking cupcake.

"Doesn't look like ya put much effort or thought into it but okay..." He clicks his tongue and you elbow him in the stomach. Of course it doesn't hurt though, because he's built like a marble statue.

"Anyways, I need you to read over this when your done. It's my wish list to Santa." You don't respond right away, waiting to see if he's going to say he's joking or something, but he doesn't. You put down the frosting bag and stare deep into his soul.

"Are you serious? I thought Santa wasn't real. At least that's what you told Denki and ruined his Christmas." You recall last year's Christmas party when Katsuki harshly broke the news to Denki. The blond had a mental break down.

"I've reconsidered what I'd said before. He's real 'n I've been real good this year so hopefully I'll get what I wished for." He emphasizes that for some odd reason.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. Remember when you verbally assaulted that kid who said you look like a mean Pokémon character?" He grumbles something that you don't quite catch but you get what he means.

"Just read it." He says with a roll of his eyes. You stare at him once again.

"Ughhh be happy I love your ass. I have to stop my cupcakes to read a santa list??? How old are you five?" He knows you aren't mad which is why he holds out the red envelope for you to take.

He watches you intently as you gently tear open the envelope. You pull out a piece of paper, which reads:

Dear Santa,

It's me. Bakugo.

The only thing I want for Christmas is a pretty wife who will stay with me through thick and thin. Who's also annoying and banned from going to sleep after me because of her terrible pranks.

Thanks.

As you finish reading it you're in shock. You lower the letter from your view to see your boyfriend on one knee, a pretty ring being presented to you in a very exquisite box.

"So.. will you help Santa out? Make my wish come true?" He's shaking and he looks so vulnerable it touches your heart.

You already know your answer but who would you be if you didn't give the man a run for his money.

"Well I don't know, Santa still needs to receive the letter then he'll probably come to me and we'll talk." You say crossing your arms. Katsuki glares at you and you smile back.

"Of course I will!! I mean who else would do it if not for me?" He rolls his eyes so hard you feel it.

"I could get anyone to marry me in seconds." He scoffs while putting the ring on your finger.

"All this talk and it took you 7 years to finally pop the question." Before he even gets another word out you lean down to press a soft kiss onto his lips.

"Merry Christmas, hubby." You say with a snort.

"Way to ruin a romantic moment and hubby is not going to be a new nickname."

jokes on him hubby stuck around for a long time :3

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yourmidnightlover · 1 year

Note

(You don’t have to do this) Xavier Thorpe x reader

The try not to kiss each other challenge on tiktok

ahh YES! i hope i brought your request to justice

i'm gonna take this as like a lovers to friends to lovers kinda thing bc there isnt enough of that going around with our beloved xavier

i also wanted to let y'all know that i am working through my requests! inspiration strikes at odd hours, and i'm trying to delegate all of my time respectively to all of the fics i'm working on. but i assure you i will work through everything!

tension

paring: xavier thorpe x reader (duh)

summary: after months of flirting, your friends take matters into their own hands and dared you to do a tiktok trend.

warnings: kissing, tons of tension (also duh),they're cuddly? i don't think there's really anything else but let me know if i've missed something!

it had been months and months of flirting between you and xavier thorpe. consistent, unending, raw flirting. this included the batting of eyelashes, shoving of arms, longing stares, buying of gifts... everything. the whole shebang.

and god, were enid, ajax and wednesday tired of it. wednesday constantly wanted to claw her own eyes out when she saw you. enid thought it was cute the first two months, but after that she was only confused as to why you would never make it official. and ajax would just tease the two of you. he voiced his concerns with xavier, occasionally with you, but mostly with xavier. he would mostly talk about how dumb he was to not just ask you out or make it official.

so, as enid was scrolling through tiktok, she stumbled upon a certain video of two friends... or mayabe they were more? either way, they were sitting in front of each other, and each one moved closer to the other. the premise was whoever breaks the tension and kisses the other loses, she guessed?

regardless, there was tension and there was a kiss and that is exactly what needs to happen with you and xavier in order to put everyone out of their misery.

so, she sent the tiktok to ajax and wednesday, the message reading:

weregirl: OMG! we've got to get them to do this! they'd totally admit everything!

middleoftheweek: this is repulsive to watch, but i hope it will be worth it as long as they get whatever they need to out of their system

snakes4hair: if this gives my boy the push he needs to make a move then i'll do basically whatever

and just like that... the game was afoot.

"dude," ajax was laughing at the lunch table. you had thrown your legs over xavier's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as he played with your hair. "there's this new thing i saw online the other day. enid sent it to me, and i doubt you and y/n would be able to do it," ajax chuckled as he looked towards enid.

"oh, definitely not," enid shook her head exaggeratedly. "they'd never be able to do it."

"do what?" xavier spoke up as he took a bite of your sandwich.

"yea, do what?" you perked up at the idea of a chellnege. "we could do it, right?"

"hell yea," xavier nodded as he pat your thigh. "we could 100% do it."

"i don't think you could," wednesday said curtly, sneering at both you and xavier's closeness. "at all."

"yes we could!" xavier removed his hands from your hair, throwing them up dramatically.

"alright," ajax spoke up. "i dare you to complete little challenge. you have to record it though, as proof, and post it."

"deal!" both you and xavier looked at each other, giving each other a high five that only resulted in your hands holding.

later that night, you and xavier had retreated to his shed as he painted before they sent you the video you had to recreate.

"seriously?" you scoffed. "they're just sitting there looking at each other with music playing," you looked at xavier as the video played.

"wait," he pointed at the screen. "they're like inching closer to each other. like one does and then the other."

"but why?" you got your answer less than thirty seconds later. "oh..." you glanced at xavier, who bit his lower lip before glancing at you with a smile.

"i never back down from a dare," xavier shrugged as he looked at you.

you nodded, "neither do i."

after setting up the camera with the video on the three-minute setting, about to start recording. you were sitting on the mattress that you had both smuggled in his shed, the one that used to be rowans before... well. yea. both sitting across from each other, your legs were overlapped with each other's. then, the music started playing.

at first you were both smiling, giggling, even. you inched closer to his face first, around 10 seconds after the music started. your faces seemed closer than they ever were before, and that's when the smiles faded and the tension built.

he reached around you and pulled you on top of his lap for his move. the longer this went on, the more it felt like a game of chess, only physical. you swore you could see every shade of green littering his irises. his cologne somehow radiated around you. you made the mistake of looking at his lips, curiosity getting the better of you. he was gently biting his lower lip. it was almost as if he wanted you to kiss it better.

then, you placed your hand on the lower side of his face, nearer to his neck. you could feel his pulse rate picking up. it was exciting to see what kind of power you had over him. you could now feel the way you affected him. now, you saw as his eyes went to your lips which only made you smirk that much more.

he used both of his hands to bring your face right in front of his. he was everywhere. to your side, you would see his hands. his hands took up nearly your entire face, and you loved the way they felt against your skin. part of you never wanted them to leave. you could nudge his nose with your own if you even slightly moved. you were getting close to losing this whole game. you wouldn't. you couldn't.

you tilted your head to the left, bringing your lips closer to his own but not touching. you were so close you could practically breathe in each other's air. you could feel his pulse pick up once more before you licked your lips, you felt his chuckle radiating around your head. but when you looked in his eyes you felt something totally different. it was heavier. it was more.

then, with a mumble, "screw it," he pulled your face into his own, kissing you with all the tension he had built up over not just the past two minutes, but from the past months of doing nothing.

your hand moved up to his hair, running through it like you had so many times. in this context, though, your hand running through his hair was so, so much different. it was much more intimate.

you let his tongue into your mouth happily, nearly breaking the kiss with how big of a grin you had on your face. one of his hands moved to your waist, wrapping around you like the warmest hug you've ever had. your other hand was holding the hand still on your face. you meant it when you said you never wanted them to leave.

truth be told, you never wanted him to leave. you never wanted to stop kissing him. you've wanted to for months on end, but you were too scared of being rejected. you thought he was joking about all of the flirting sometimes. the touches, everything. but this kiss felt more real than time.

"i think i won," xavier whispered as he went up for air. you shook your head.

"i think ajax won," you chuckled as you both began to laugh. "him or myself, of course," you rolled your eyes.

"we all won," he compromised.

"stupid tension, huh?"

#xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams xavier

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brownbearwrites · 4 months

Note

pt.19281618192 of my obsession with felix oliver and reader poly coupleeee💞💞

SO JUST IMAGINE FELIX AND OLIVER BRAT TAMING READER.

LIKE HEAR ME OUTTTT GURLLL

reader is like super spoiled by felix amd oliver ( as u should material gurl 💋 ) and she doesn’t take ‘ no ‘ for an answer.

one day she’s acting bratty towards felix bcs he doesn’t wanna buy her a new bag ( cuz u got so many queen 🙁 ) she says rude stuff to him and felix gets fed up with it and calls ollie to tell what u said

ur in BIG trouble miss girl.

you and felix get home and oliver is already waiting for u guys in the bedroom

when u enter the bedroom oliver starts by teasing u with asking u questios and was it okay to be so mean to ur daddy no.1 after all the things he buys and does for u

anywhooo..

ur still bratty and start giving sass to oliver too but my man ain’t havin it 😞

daddy no.2 MANHANDLES u on the bed and starts spanking u, while daddy no.1 is preparing other stuff ( belts, toys etc. )

girl.. ur fucked upppppp

literally 💀

GIRLLL I wish I had more time and brain space to write right now because!! this is so hot!!

I literally just came back from watching Priscilla so this is immensely fueled by me swooning when Jacob Elordi asked if is she was ‘going to be a good girl’ 👀

BUT since you’re probably a rich kid like Felix, you’re not used to being told no. So when it does eventually happen, you get super pissy about it; back talking, refusing to join in on activities, pulling away from his touches. And above everything , Felix is a tactile boy — he doesn’t handle not having your affection well AT ALL.

Thank fuck you two have Oliver to fix things — even if his way of fixing things includes your ass being smacked red and a pair of handcuffs tying you to the bed.

“Daddy expected better of you,” Oliver would tell you in between smacks, “are you going to show me how good of a girl you can be for us? Are you going to apologize?”.

You’d be a sobbing mess, eyes teary as you stare at Felix who’s seated on the other side of the room, nursing a drink as he watches Oliver break you. Just as you think he’s going to let up on you (giving you the sweet aftercare you crave so badly) Felix gets up from his seat. You know you’re in big BIG trouble when he grabs the hitachi wand and the pair of fluffy pink handcuffs you’d been given as a gag-gift a few birthdays ago.

You’re about to have a looooong night…

(I might expand on this soon if I remember to!!)

#saltburn imagine #saltburn smut #felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton imagine #felix catton smut #felix catton x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x reader #anon #mine

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moonrisecoeur · 5 months

Text

gratitude — leon kennedy

author’s note: i don’t love doing taglists bc it’s kind of tedious but a couple people asked to be tagged so i’ll tag them in the comments of this post! please send asks/write comments/add tags to reblog if you liked this! that would be wonderful!

wc: 3.6k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, sugar baby leon, mommy kink, orgasm control, pegging, hickies mentioned. leon is 21 reader is ‘slightly older’.

warnings: mentions but not depictions of financial abuse, dubcon, and prostitution (seen in a negative light; we support sex workers here)

this is a birthday gift to angel! @angelofwoe go give her some love :)

—

5. 4. 3. 2. 1…

incoming call from ‘leon ken(nedy)’

accept or decline?

you look over at your phone while you’re waiting at a red light, driving home from work. you smile, like clockwork, leon calls you at exactly 5 pm each day, and most of the time, you’re coming home. to him. the thought still makes your heart jump a little bit. leon is waiting at home, your home, and now his home too, for you.

he’s waiting for you.

god, your stomach does somersaults. he’s perfect.

you answer the call, clicking it on and waiting for it to connect the two of you, “hello?”

“hey!” he says, and you missed his voice. you smile softly at his enthusiasm, “what should i get and/or make for dinner? don’t know if you trust me to cook in your kitchen unsupervised yet…”

“i would let you,” you say, looking out the window, “though maybe i’d stop by a cafe for dinner on my way home.”

“hey, c’mon now!” he tries to defend himself, but he laughs, god you’re obsessed with that sound, “okay, okay, fair. i get it. really, though, what’ll it be?”

you think for a second, and you realize that leon doesn’t really ever get a choice, he just goes along with whatever you want, “hmm… why don’t you pick, baby?”

he goes silent for a second, “you sure?” and when you make a sound of approval, even though he gave you a chance to back out, he sighs, “fine. don’t say i didn’t warn you when we’re eating chicken nuggets tonight.”

“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” you smile.

—

“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” he smiles at the sound of your teasing voice. he can’t help liking you. i mean, how is he supposed to not like you? not only do you take care of him, buy him nice things, but you’re also so fucking pretty? what the hell?

“anyway, i’ll see you soon, baby. miss me a little bit, but not too much, okay?” you tell him, breaking him out of the daze that is listening to you talk. he feels bad that he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying.

“y-yeah. i’ll see you at home,” he stutters, quickly hanging up, clutching his phone to his chest. home. your… home. god, this was bad. he was going to go insane one of these days if you didn’t stop being so goddamn perfect.

leon had this preconception forever ago that sugar daddies and mommies and whatever the hell else were always old, decrepit people who gave you money for basically doing your best not to gag when you see them naked. people you take advantage of, who you give your body to in exchange for being able to afford anything. it’s an exchange, sex for money (no, sex for power). which would make him a… prostitute? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t want to know.

but god, you are so much more than that, practically his dream woman. sure, you’re a little older than him, but it’s not like girls his age are soft and sweet with him like you are. they expect so much, they expect him to be the perfect boyfriend 24/7. he could do it, sure, but it would be an act. a desperate act of manipulation for him to get what he wants.

what does he want? well, that’s the tricky part. he tries not to let on too much how intensely this one thing affects him, even with you. it would be too much power to let you have over him, and you already have way too much.

truthfully, you… leon doesn’t like to think about it, but you could take advantage of him if you really wanted to. he’s so used to such an easy lifestyle, he can’t go back to struggling and barely paying his bills. you really could use him for the one and only thing he has to give you whenever you please, and it’s not even that he can’t stop you, because he knows he’s stronger than you, but he knows you could dangle your financial control over his head and he would be at your feet, on his knees in an instant.

he doesn’t know why he even bothers to think about it. he knows you’re not like that. hell, he looks at you with half decent puppy eyes and you’re sending him more money just because he looks cuter than usual today. if anyone is the master manipulator here, it’s him, not you. you have only pure intentions, and leon appreciates that even if he can never 100% trust it.

—

leon is a weird sugar baby. he doesn’t ask for things, he doesn’t use up all of his allowance, he doesn’t beg you for every shiny thing that catches his eye. he’s simple, not demanding, not exhausting you of every last penny in your account.

not that you would… really care? leon could do anything, absolutely anything, and you’d forgive him. he doesn’t need your forgiveness, not for the sassy little jokes he makes, not for the way he awkwardly says the wrong thing at the wrong time in conversation. leon was easy to forgive. easy to adore.

but, that's off topic. you try not to think about how lovable the pretty thing was. too easily you could get lost in him, never make it out alive.

he’s not demanding, he just uses your money to pay for his rent and take care of himself, his bills, his utilities and groceries, stuff like that. or well he used to use the money to pay for his rent, but now that he’s moved in with you, he doesn’t even have that expense anymore. he might treat himself and buy himself a little something small he normally couldn’t afford. the rest he’ll save.

can you blame the guy for being so cheap? he finished the police academy, but the job he had lined up fell through. so what is he supposed to do? work a minimum wage job? serve tables until he dies or his body gives out on him? sue him for wanting better for himself.

and so… he met you. he had no intention of using you.. at first. but even now he feels bad. he truly can’t get on board with being a sugar baby, he feels like he’s extorting you. you have to tell him each and every time his bank account number skyrockets that you will always have enough to continue your lifestyle, what's the point of just having the rest of it sitting around when you could be giving it to a pretty little thing like him?

still.. sometimes leon feels awful. can’t help it no matter what you tell him.

he just can’t really afford to say no to the money, because now he has all of his debt paid off and an emergency fund and a savings account for fun trips to take you on and another one for expensive gifts to buy you as a small, tiny, miniscule thank you. it’s only one part of how he really shows his gratitude. you’ve given him a better life than he could ever give himself, and he will never forget that.

how else does he show his gratitude?

–

you make it home, and immediately see the containers of chicken nuggets on the kitchen counter. you chuckle, again, endeared by leon’s choice of cuisine. it was what he wanted, after all, and you always let him have whatever he wanted. it’s so representative of him. they’re inexpensive, perfect for someone so frugal like him. they’re a comfort food, easy on the stomach, they’re delicious, and that’s probably all of the comparisons you could make between chicken nuggets and leon kennedy before you burst out laughing in delirium.

“oh thank god you’re home…” he says softly, reaching to grab your bag and your coat to put up so you can sit down, “i’m so glad you’re back, you must have worked so hard today.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his lips before doing so, and he’s immediately left dazed after just one little half-a-second long kiss. his eyes follow you as you collapse on the couch, “yeah, it was a long one. just glad to be back with you, baby.”

his heart aches for you as you sink into the couch, exhaustion present in your entire demeanor, seeping off of you through the cracks in your composure.

he knows what’ll make you feel better. or at least… he hopes he does. if you’re not in the mood, he’ll just laugh awkwardly and try to play it off.

he takes a deep breath in, bracing himself for the awkwardness that always comes with saying this word, “…mommy,” he whispers, and he immediately has all of your attention, suddenly all that exhaustion in your soul is replaced by an intensity that he can’t quite understand.

one word… and you’re already losing your composure? he didn’t know he was that good.

“baby…” you coo back to him, almost warning him. as if you’re saying, if you start this, you better be ready to see it through.

“wanna help you… feel better, mommy…” he says, his fingertips brushing against your thigh. fucking tease.

you always look at him like he puts the stars in the sky, but now? you’re looking at him like you want him seeing stars.

“you sure?”

“positive,” he mumbles.

again, this is all he has to give you. his love, his soul, his… body. he doesn’t want this to be transactional, sexual submission for money. he’s not a prostitute, but he genuinely has nothing else that even comes close to the value of gifts and money and just fucking everything you’ve given him.

you don’t ask for sex too often, even when he knows you’re horny. you’re so obvious but so understanding that your kinks and preferences are a little foreign to him. in his defense, he’s had one girlfriend right before he met you and she was the most vanilla person in the goddamn world. genuinely he could have switched positions on her and she would have thought it was too much.

“take me what you want from me, mommy,” he whispers, and yet for someone so inexperienced, he does it so well.

so well that you can’t help pouncing on him, pinning him underneath you. he feels your gentle yet firm grip on his wrists, the way your hair falls in front of your face as you hover on top of him, and he just has the softest urge to tuck it behind your ear. he can’t, but he wishes he could.

he doesn't get the chance to think about it much when your lips find his neck and he is immediately melted by their softness, their gentleness that makes him want to just break down and sob. he just wants to be treated softly, just wants to be held down and kissed like you’re doing right now.

“please,” he breathes, ironic because all you do is steal his breath away. your lips touch just over his subtle adam’s apple as you switch sides, pressing kisses into his neck, collarbone, and shoulder. he kind of wants you to bite down, leave red and purple aching bruises covering his neck, make him shudder and tremble with every love bite.

he knows you won’t.

“i don’t damage what’s mine,” you’d said once, and it left him dizzy. so casually asserting your ownership over him like that had his cock twitching in his pants. you very quickly learned to take advantage of his affection towards your possessiveness. you have to be subtle and you can’t do it too much, but every once and a while, you take your opportunity. you make your small little comments, you add ‘my’ in front of a pet name, you eye him like a piece of meat (intentionally being obvious so he’ll notice), etc.

your possessiveness is even better if it’s sort of objectifying. he might just like it more.

he wishes he could touch you, but what would it even be for? if you wanted him to make you feel good, you’d have shoved his face between your legs, tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, moaned as he ate your pussy while looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, so full of an emotion you wanted to study in detail. it couldn’t be love, there’s no way. you settle for something else, even if it’s less satisfying.

devotion.

—

and even with your cock buried deep, deep inside of him, stretching him open and filling him up entirely, he’s still got that same glimmer of devotion in his eyes, but that’s irrelevant.

it’s irrelevant because he’s a desperate mess of a man right now and it’s all you should be concerned with, “mommy, fuck, please, i—”

“say you belong to me, pretty boy,” you groan in his ear, his body shivering and trembling at the pleasure that’s about to hit him. he’s gotta wait for your permission, though.

“yours, yours, fuck, all yours, my fucking body belongs to you, you can- you can use it whenever you want, however you want, for however long. it doesn't matter,” he cries,’s his voice raspy, he trying to keep himself together and he’s failing miserably, “fuck, fuck, god, and i- my body… i owe you my body as a thank you for- oh, f-fuck!- for your m-money, i- it’s all i can give you that’s worth anything-.”

“…yeah? you owe me?” you smirk, pressing your hand against his lower stomach, feeling the bulge your cock inside him. it drives you insane. he’s babbling about something you don’t care to listen to. something about being indebted to you, that sex is him paying you back for how perfect you are. you don’t listen. it’ll just make you sad.

“gonna give me what i want, right? because you owe me,” you say. sure, you felt bad, but you never said you were pure good. you’re entitled to leon and everything he could possibly give you, aren’t you?

he tries to speak, but your cock always makes him as stupid as can be. he tries, oh he tries, to respond, to say yes, i’ll give you everything, i’m all yours to claim and keep forever, but the sounds come out as jumbled moans out of the back of his throat. he gives up trying to talk, clearly that’s beyond him now, and communicates his feelings by holding your waist gently, his fingertips pressing against your skin.

he moans out absolutely pathetically as you thrust in and out of him, keeping him held down with your hands pushing down on his shoulders. his body contorts to your will, his soul too. you could do anything to him and get away with it, with him in this beautiful headspace.

he’s gorgeous like this, and you take a moment to admire him. glassy, distant , tear filled eyes, sweaty blonde hair, skin little with small marks of whatever lip product you use. god, he’s nothing less than fucking perfect.

if only you both didn’t have responsibilities in your everyday lives because the only thing that could make him prettier is if he was like this every single day, fucked out of his mind, desperate, stupid from the pleasure of your cock pushing firmly against his prostate.

“gonna cum, baby?” you ask maliciously, knowing he didn’t have enough of his mind working to even register the question, “gonna give yourself over to mommy? live in her home, let her keep you as a pet? couldn’t leave her even if you wanted to, and you definitely don’t.”

he looks for an out as his eyes shift up at the ceiling, still somehow finding it in himself to be shy.

“look at me,” you growl, one hand moving to his face to cup his cheek, fingertips brushing against his jaw. he obeys, making weak eye contact, blinking the tears away from his eyes, “ask me for permission to cum.”

cruel? yes, because the most his stupid mind can come up with to say is that pretty name you make him call you, “m-mommy…”

you remember him looking at you confused, almost a little uncomfortable, when you said you liked that name. it definitely tracks, you’re his sugar mommy… and you expect him to call him mommy. not exactly revolutionary, but his hesitancy to do so is what makes these moments truly special. earlier, he said it intentionally, mainly to get your attention and get you riled up, distracted from work and responsibilities.

but now? he truly can’t help it falling past his lips. every time he says it, or more accurately moans it, he feels even more attached to it, attached to you. he’s imagined saying it more casually, in everyday conversation, but he could never get over how humiliating it felt.

you graciously let him call you by name most of the time, something he has been endlessly grateful for.

but in this headspace, leon can’t think of a single other word but mommy.

“c’mon, sweetheart. won’t get any easier to think with mommy’s cock deep inside of you. mommy can wait all night sweetheart, but i’m not sure you can.”

he can’t. he knows he can’t cum because you haven’t given him permission, but he can’t ask permission if you keep saying things that make him dumber and slower. he can hold off his orgasm for a while when he tops, he’s gotten decently good at that, but with your cock filling him up like this? he would be lucky if he lasted another minute.

“fuck- ah, mommy… m-mommy, plea…. please…” he breathes heavily, trying so damn hard, it melts your heart how badly he’s trying for you.

“please what, baby? you know i’ll say yes, just ask mommy what you want.”

wet cheeks and trembling lips from him make your heart ache for him. you’d give him anything.

“c-cum, mommy?…. c-can i…?”

you nod, biting your lip, almost more excited than he is to watch him fall apart, “mhm, ‘course, baby… let go for mommy, i got you… here…” you say, taking a hold of his cock to jerk him off through his orgasm to get everything you can from him, milk him for all he’s worth. his body tries to give you everything it can.

his eyes shut tightly as he gives you the loudest moan probably… ever? you’ve never heard him cry out like that, and you wish you could have recorded it to go back and hear it again. his voice breaks, and he takes a sharp breath in, holding it as his muscles tense and spasm until he’s left achy and exhausted and filled to the brim with pleasure.

“awhh…. so cute, baby…” you mumble, “c’mon, give me all of it, don’t make me make you cum again. if it’s anything like the first, you might just pass out, sweet boy.”

“ah… oh, oh my god,” he breathes heavily, twitching, “mommy… mommy, i- mommy, please… please, mommy,” he can’t stop thinking about it. mommy is all he can think about like this.

he cries, literally. the kind where you can’t help sobbing and sniffing and you curl in on yourself in a desperate attempt to self soothe. you half expected it; leon usually cries after more intense sex. he doesn’t know why, but usually he’s embarrassed of it and tries to hide it. he must just be too far gone right now to care.

you pull out, earning a desperate whine that makes you want to rail it back into him, balls deep, watch him squeeze his eyes shut tightly and him scream in pleasure, but you restrain yourself. he's crying right now. even though he would technically consent, he wouldn’t really want it.

you take 30 seconds to clean both of you off, and those 30 seconds are tortuous to him, even if you’re praising him the whole time.

that’s it. his greatest weakness. praise.

no, your praise.

to be told he’s good, to be told he did a good job, to be told you’re proud of him. he sobs as he soaks in your praise like a sponge. he wants to listen to your sweet words every single day for the rest of his life. you whisper to him how he’s perfect, everything about him is, how you adore him, wanna give him everything so he’ll stay with you forever, etc.

in his defense, he has absolutely zero control over what he’s saying right now, but he looks up at you, with tear-filled, red eyes, his bottom lip trembling just slightly, “you don’t have to give me stuff… i’m always gonna be yours.”

and it hits a nerve you haven’t felt in a long time. maybe it’s the subspace he’s in, or maybe you’re reading the situation wrong, so you don’t push it, but something inside your heart feels… off.

to put it bluntly, he shouldn’t be yours. he should find someone he could really love to spend his days with. there’s no reason for leon to stay with you if you stopped giving him money, paying his bills, and taking care of him. at least, there shouldn’t be?

oh, unless…

–

a couple hours later, you’re sitting at the kitchen counter with him, eating cold chicken nuggets and giggling about whatever you were watching on tv. leon looks at you a little differently than usual right now, his eyes softer, fonder than you’re used to. his eyes carefully track your more animated hand movements as you passionately explain something about this show. he has no idea what you’re talking about; he just likes hearing you speak.

he kisses the corner of your lip when you jokingly ask if you have anything on your face, which turns into a full kiss that leaves him a little breathless, that feeling of excitement and nerves returning in his stomach.

yeah, he thinks to himself, pure, unadulterated beauty.

as you kiss, he pulls back to look into your eyes, looking at you as if you held up each individual constellation for him, with a godly reverence that would almost turn you on if the moment wasn’t weirdly romantic.

“baby…?” your voice sounds shaky and unsure, and he doesn’t miss your lack of composure.

maybe that was a good thing. a sign.

he chuckles, “nothing, mommy… nothing at all.”

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