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satorusugurugurl · 27 days
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four
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Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
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navybrat817 · 1 year
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Sugar and Spice
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You make a sweet impression on one of the new tattoo artists in the neighborhood. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Flirting, fluff, innuendos, brief moment of insecurity (reader's mom kind of sucks, sorry!), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future couple, slight angst, and feels. A/N: Because I "need" another tattoo AU, let me introduce you to Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @rookthorne , @sweeterthanthis, @dreamlessinparis, @11thstreetvigilante for listening to me ramble about this man and some future upcoming shennanigans. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics, and Bucky edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The first time Bucky Barnes walked into your bakery, your best friend and co-owner, Tess, assumed he was lost. Maybe because he didn't appear to be your average customer. A confident aura surrounded him, like he took what he wanted without question. You hadn't encountered a man who looked like sin incarnate before.
It took you a moment to greet him with how dry your mouth had gone.
The stranger didn't smile as he made it to the counter in a few strides. It surprised you that he got through the door with his massive frame. The dark t-shirt and jeans looked painted on and the skin you could see was littered with tattoos. A handsome package wrapped up with chestnut brown hair past his ears, short beard, and steel blue eyes.
Lust at first sight was an understatement.
It was as if he walked out of your wet dreams and into your life.
Sin. Incarnate.
You smiled from ear to ear when you saw him up close, even though he still didn't smile back. You didn't take it personally. Tess once said you were too sweet for your own good, but you replied you never knew what was going on with your customers. Maybe a bit of kindness would brighten their day.
You weren't sure if it was friendliness that he needed, but he wouldn't stop staring at you.
You admitted to yourself later that his gaze made your heart pound and it wasn't out of intimidation.
"Hi. What can I get for you?" you asked.
He blinked and looked toward the display case, giving you a chance to exhale.
When did you start holding your breath?
"Something sweet," he said, his voice huskier than you expected as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Those were the exact words my punk friend said."
"That's extremely helpful in a bakery," you deadpanned.
His eyebrows shot up as you dropped the serious expression and started laughing. It surprised you when he laughed with you. Not only did you consider his reaction a personal victory, but it made him look even more handsome.
How was that possible?
"Exactly what I said."
"Well, not sure if he's allergic to anything or how many of you are eating, but we can do an assortment of cookies if you'd like," you suggested, walking to the end of the case to show him the different flavors.
"That sounds good. A dozen should work," he said, narrowing his eyes as he placed his large hands on the glass and looked it over again. Was it rude to stare at him? "And since the punk didn't tell me what he wanted, surprise me."
"I'll pick the best flavors," you smiled as you grabbed a box and tongs.
"What's your favorite?" he asked curiously, folding his hands and resting his chin on top of them as you selected the cookies.
Your cheeks flamed when you realized he was watching you. You hoped you didn't drop anything. "Can't go wrong with chocolate chip. It's a classic. If I had to pick a favorite treat overall, I'd pick the caramel chocolate brownie. Simple, but full of flavor."
"I'll take one of those, too, please."
"Sure. You'll have to let me know what you think," you said, placing the best brownie from the batch in a smaller box.
"So, you're saying you want me to come back," he said with a half smile as he pushed himself off the display to follow you back to the register. "Is that it?"
Is he flirting with me? No, he couldn't be.
Your mom chastised you for ending things with your recent boyfriend. According to her, you should've appreciated that a charming, good-looking man wanted you all of all people. It hurt to hear that, but he turned out to be a jerk and you refused to settle for less than what you deserved.
You also wouldn't let negative thoughts cloud your safe space.
"I wouldn't mind," you giggled before you cleared your throat. Even if by some miracle he was hitting on you, you weren't supposed to flirt while you worked. "We like having repeat customers," you added.
"I'm sure you have plenty. It's a cute shop."
You looked for a hint of sarcasm on his face and found none. "Thanks," you said, holding your head a bit higher. The shop was your baby and you took pride in it, always doing your best to make it as bright and welcoming as you could. "And I really would like to know what you think. Always looking to improve if we can."
"It's a good thing I'm just across the street," he said as he got his wallet out. "I can sample the entire menu."
You began to ring him up when you paused. "You don't happen to work in the new tattoo shop, do you?"
Some of the other business owners on the block weren't too happy about a tattoo parlor opening up, afraid that it would attract a rougher crowd. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover. You also felt bad that you hadn't had a chance to go over to introduce yourself.
"Co-owner. What gave it away?" he asked, reminiscent of your deadpan delivery moments ago.
"Oh, just this feeling," you teased, wondering how many tattoos he had hidden under his clothes. You cut that thought off and stopped him when he took some cash out to pay. "On the house as a small welcome to the neighborhood."
He moved his hand over to the tip jar and dropped the money in. "Thanks," he gave you a half smile again as he glanced at the nametag on your bright apron and said your name.
It sounded like honey on his tongue.
"I'm Bucky, by the way. Nice to meet you," he said, taking the boxes.
"Nice to meet you, too," you smiled back, a wave of heat rolling down your chest at the thought of him coming back to see you. "Enjoy the treats."
"I'm sure they'll be as sweet as you, Sugar," he smirked.
You stood there, stunned, as he walked out of the shop. Thankfully it was a slow time of day and you had a moment to fan yourself once you remembered to breathe. You had half a mind to get a tattoo as an excuse to see him again.
"Who the hell was that?" Tess asked from behind you.
You jumped and clutched your chest, forgetting that she was in the shop. "My new crush," you answered without thinking.
"Obviously. I thought he was lost until he ordered something," she snickered as she nudged your shoulder. "You were giggling."
"Yeah. Well, I doubt he'll be back," you mumbled, going to the case to wipe it down.
"Oh, he'll be back. I saw how he looked at you," she said, moving her eyebrows up and down. "You're the sugar he wants to taste."
"Did you see how hot he is? He has plenty of 'sugar' out there and I'm," you waved your hand as you tried to think of a good comparison. "I don't know. I'm Splenda."
"Okay. First, that sounds like your mother talking, which is not allowed in here. Second, you're not Splenda. You're the whole bakery. No putting yourself down in our sanctuary," Tess said sternly. She liked to give you a hard time as your best friend, but she was serious when it came to your love life and self-esteem. "For real. You're a catch."
"Maybe he'll fall in love after he eats the brownie I gave him," you joked.
"That's the spirit," Tess said, graciously not calling you out on your deflection. "He'll be back."
You didn't want to get your hopes up over a stranger, but you did want to see him again.
You just didn't expect him to visit your shop again the very next day.
"So," he said when he went to the counter and set his hands on it, blocking out everything behind him. "About that brownie."
"Yeah?" you asked breathlessly, praying you looked halfway decent. "What did you think?"
"Best fucking brownie I've ever had," he grinned and rubbed his stomach. The praise rendered you speechless. "What else is good here?"
Me. I'm good.
You wished you said what was on your mind, but you gave him one of the leftover sample cakes instead.
It went on like that for over a week. Bucky would stop in and select a new dessert. On the slower days, he tried the treat at the counter and chatted with you. Tess messaged you on your day off to tell you how disappointed he looked when you weren't there. He bought two items when you saw him the next day.
The brownie was still his favorite.
So you decided to surprise him when he showed up at his usual time. The blue Henley made his eyes stand out more and the smile he gave you sent heat through your core. Your hand managed not to shake as you held up a plate for him. You couldn't help but want to impress him.
"Is that my brownie?" he asked when he went to greet you.
"With a twist. Caramel chocolate brownie, but I added chocolate fudge frosting," you replied, handing it to him. His fingers touched yours and you wished at that moment that the counter didn't separate the two of you. "I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will," he said, keeping his eyes on you as he brought the brownie to his mouth and took a bite. They slipped shut as he let out a deep moan. His head fell back briefly, too.
Your fingers twisted in your apron as you pressed your thighs together. Did he do that on purpose or was it that good? You didn't think your treats were worthy of pornographic sounds.
"Fucking delicious," he promised as he opened his eyes and took another bite. "It'll hurt my feelings if you don't add this to the menu."
"Thank you. I'm glad you like it," you said, wondering if the words sounded as breathless as you felt.
"I haven't tried a single thing here I didn't like, Sugar."
"Why do you keep calling me 'Sugar'?"
"'Cause you seem sweet, like these treats you make for everyone," Bucky stated as a matter of fact. "I can stop if you don't like it."
"Please, don't stop," you said. You liked hearing it from him.
He smirked as he licked a bit of frosting off his thumb, your mouth salivating at the sight. "Not how I expected to hear those words from you."
Blood rushed to your cheeks as your brain tried to process what he said. You could play it cool. Or play along. "Well, Hottie, if you're lucky, you might hear them in a different way."
Bucky's mouth shifted from a smirk to a full blown grin. "Hottie?"
You tried to summon the ground to swallow you up, but it didn't work.
"Well. Yeah. I mean, you call me Sugar, which makes you Spice. Spices can be hot and you're a hottie," you said with as much dignity as possible before you giggled. "Or I can just call you Bucky and we forget this entire conversation."
"I won't forget. My memory can be fuzzy at times, but I'll remember this conversation," he promised, tapping his temple. "And keep calling me that. I like it."
You leaned across the counter, trying to look as enticing as possible. At least, as much as you could in your work apron. He visited the shop multiple times now and he was definitely flirting with you now. You could make a move.
Don't be Splenda. Be the whole bakery.
"Bucky, would you want to-"
The door swung open before you could finish your question, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "There you are, Buck. Andy is actually smiling at someone. Hal's trying to get a picture. You gotta see this."
Bucky's nostrils flared as he closed his eyes. "Fucking punk."
He sounds as disappointed as I feel.
"Friend of yours?" you guessed.
"That's just Steve with his impeccable timing."
Bucky stepped aside so you could get a look at his friend. The man was just as large as your newfound crush, also covered in tattoos with long, blonde hair and a trimmed beard. And he was beaming at you.
"You must be Sugar. Buck mentioned you."
"Is that right?" you asked.
"Oh, yeah," Steve smiled. "Hasn't shut up about you."
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you gazed at the brunette. He didn't look ashamed or embarrassed as he stared back. You must have made some sort of good impression on him if he spoke to a friend about you.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked, ignoring his friend for the time being as he handed you his empty plate.
"Yeah. I'm opening the shop," you answered.
"If I'm not arrested for murdering my best friend, I'll come back and we can finish our conversation," he said as Steve frowned. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. "If that's okay with you."
Who in their right mind would say "no"?
"More than okay. I'll see you tomorrow," you said, giving Steve a wave as Bucky stomped toward him. "Nice meeting you, Steve."
"You, too. Keep making those cookies! They're so good!" he chuckled as his friend chased him out of the shop.
"Oh, who the hell was that?!" Tess shouted from the back of the office.
"A friend with bad timing," you called back with a shake of your head.
"You were finally going to ask him out, weren't you?" she asked, poking her head out. "About time. Sick of hiding in the office so I don't have to watch you two flirt."
You scoffed when you caught her smiling. "You love being in the office. And tomorrow is a new day. I'll ask him."
"You better wear something pretty for your hottie."
She's never going to let me live that nickname down.
You weren't sure what you were going to wear tomorrow, but you knew you couldn't wait to open the shop and see Bucky again.
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Hope you liked this sweet introduction and can't wait to share more of this Bucky and the other boys. More from Hottie and Sugar with And Everything Nice. Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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reverie-starlight · 11 months
Note
For the MC returns fic you wrote, it's absolutely splendid. But I was wondering if I could ask for a part two with the dateables??
AHHH okayokay i'm so sorry this took so long, I have been so busy since school ended among other things, but here it is!!! and thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed part one <3
as always, gn!MC
disclaimer: I'm not that familiar writing the side characters' personalities, this is my first time writing for them, so please bear that in mind if you think they're a bit out of character. Also, I won't be doing a part three with the undateables (as much as I adore thirteen), bc I'm only on lesson 25 of the OG game :')
warnings: fluff!! slight reverse comfort in diavolo's bc if the game won't let him have a small breakdown, then I will, but it's like so minor. he cries a bit. poor baby deserves to let his emotions out a bit. his section got looonnnggg. slight making out in simeon's? nothing explicit, but definitely lots of kissing. blood mention in barbatos' but no gore or violence. he's just coming back from the dungeons bc I love him being just slightly unhinged. barbatos' is probably the most ooc because I had such a hard time trying to write his section, plus it got just a tad suggestive.
and once again, the details of MC's return are unspecified, just because I don't want to think too hard about it right now! did they complete the task and re-forge all 7 pacts again? did they just pop back into the present randomly? who knows? not me!
MC Returning to the Present: Dateables Edition
(aka MC goes back to the future... I missed out on that pun last time hehe)
After waking up in your room, where you rightfully belong in the present timeline, and getting through your teary reunion with the brothers, you were anxious to set out and find your lover.
You couldn't even text him to let him know you were back- with a shattered screen and an apparent dead battery, your D.D.D. had seen better days. The brothers offered to text the others to let them know of your return after they were done dog piling you, but you shook your head.
"I need to go see him now," you said, feeling guilty that you wanted to leave the warmth of their company so soon after finally having your chosen family back. You made a silent promise to them that you'd spend as much one-on-one time with them as they needed after this, but you were desperate to find him and they could tell. They could see on your face that you had been through a lot and just needed the comfort only a partner could provide.
So instead of fighting to keep you there with them a bit longer, they led you to the front hall and let you go find your beloved. You'd be back after all, you told them as much.
Solomon
As soon as you opened the door to run to Purgatory Hall, you walked right into a wall shaped like the sorcerer you were looking for.
"Solomon!" You gasped out, throwing your arms around him tightly.
"MC," he sighed in relief, cradling the back of your head with his hand, other arm around your waist, holding you just as tight. "I was so worried when you were nowhere to be found in the other timeline, I rushed here to see if you were back."
You hid your face in the crook of his neck, and blinked away a tear. "I made it, I don't really know what happened, it's all a blur, but I'm back now."
"You're back, you're okay..." he pulled back a bit to scan over your figure. "You are okay, yes? No injuries? No weird physical space-time abnormalities?"
You laughed a little breathlessly and shook your head. "No, I'm okay, my love."
He smiled fondly at you before glancing behind you, making you aware of your audience. The brothers were glaring daggers at your boyfriend, and you were sure that if Solomon wasn't, well... Solomon, any other human on the receiving end of those looks would perish.
"Guys, don't. He kept me safe when I was trapped back then. He took good care of me when I needed it, I swear."
You raised an eyebrow at them when they didn't immediately stand down, but they untensed after a second and just eyed him wearily.
Solomon smiled sheepishly. "Honestly, MC, you give me too much credit, but yes, I promise I kept them from getting into potentially catastrophically worse situations."
You returned his smile and squeezed his shoulder, tearing up again. "Don't be like that, you did far more for me than you realize..."
He knew you were referring to all the nights he held you in bed as you sobbed over the possibility of never getting back home, comforting you and acting as a distraction. If he weren't there, you honestly don't know what you would have done.
He sighed again, not wanting to get you too worked up right now. You looked like you were about to drop from exhaustion. His eyes lit up and he grabbed your hand.
"MC, why don't you let me cook for you tonight? A special treat in celebration of our return." The poor guy looked so hopeful that you almost gave in.
Before realizing that you wanted to live to see another day in the present.
"Oh, Solomon, that's very sweet, but you must be exhausted after everything as well! We can just go to Ristorante Six, or get take out..." the determined look in his eyes scared you and you glanced at the brothers for help.
"Nonsense, my love, you didn't let me cook for you once when we were living in Cocytus Hall, let me return the favour." Damn his persistence.
A few of the brothers snickered at that, probably picturing you frantically trying to keep your boyfriend out of the kitchen by any means necessary. It was then that they truly realized how many obstacles you had to overcome. You gave them another pleading look and finally Lucifer took pity on you.
"Actually, Solomon, it's Satan's turn to cook tonight, and we'd prefer to spend the evening with MC, so we insist that you join us for dinner. It'll give us a chance to go over some of the more... pressing details of what happened." His tone left no room for debate, so the sorcerer nodded.
"Oh... well alright, then, thank you for having me." He looked mildly disappointed but it didn't last long after you pressed a kiss to his cheek.
You let out a small sigh and silently thanked Lucifer as you walked further into the house again. You hooked an arm through Solomon's and went to sit with everyone else in the living room, finally feeling at ease for the first time in forever.
Diavolo
The second you were out of the house, you sprinted to the castle.
Normally you would be more courteous on the castle grounds, not wanting to piss off any of the nobles and have them think negatively of the Prince for choosing an ill-mannered human as a partner, but every rule of devildom etiquette left your mind as you ran through the halls.
You smiled at some passing servants as you slowed to catch your breath, wondering where he would be at this time of day. Finally you caught the eye of a servant you had gotten to know quite well during your visits and you visibly lit up as she greeted you.
"Hello, MC, it's lovely to see you again," she curtsied and you smiled kindly at her, insisting she didn't have to. She didn't seem shocked to see you, so you assumed everyone had tried to keep your disappearance a secret.
"Hello, it's lovely to see you, too... you wouldn't happen to know where the prince is, would you?"
She hummed and thought about it for a moment. "I believe I saw his personal butler bringing tea to his office not long ago... perhaps he's still there? He's been working in there far longer than he normally would, lately."
Your heart clenched at that, and you thanked her before running in the direction of his office.
You tried the knob, but it was locked, so you knocked frantically. It took a few moments, but finally it opened and there stood Diavolo. He had a welcome expression on his face, but you could immediately tell it wasn't genuine.
Until he realized it was you, that is.
All the pent up exhaustion you could see on his face melted away and he pulled you to him immediately. "You're back."
You closed the door with a gentle kick behind you as he dragged you further into the room. He lifted you up so that you were sitting on the edge of his desk, him in between your legs. His arms tightened around your waist before his hands trailed up to your shoulders, slid up your neck and finally rested on your cheeks. He rested his forehead against yours and let out a long, shaky, relieved sigh. Like the weight on his shoulders had just been lifted.
You let your own hands tangle in his hair and closed your eyes. "I'm back."
As you held him close, you started to feel him tremble slightly. You opened your eyes in panic, and your heart broke at the sight in front of you.
The future king of the devildom was doing his absolute best to hold back his tears, clinging to your shirt, his breathing unsteady. All because of you.
Your grip in his hair turned softer and you pressed your nose against his cheek, nuzzling into him. "It's okay, my love, I'm here. You don't have to hide from me, you can let it out," you whispered softly.
He listened to your words and immediately sank into your arms further, letting out a strangled sob. The tears that dropped from his face dampened your clothes but you didn't care at all. "Let it out, I'm here now."
You continued to soothe and shush him, all the while caressing his hair and kissing wherever you could reach. You knew Diavolo felt as though he had to remain strong all of the time, and honestly if you were in his position you'd probably feel the same. But since you started dating, you had been trying your best to let him know that he didn't have to be that way around you. He could let his walls down with you and never have to worry about being thought of as less.
A knock at the door made him tense up again and you looked at him in reassurance, silently letting him know you'd take care of it. He straightened up slightly, back still turned to the door, and nodded at you. "Come in," you called out.
You peeked over his shoulder and were pleasantly surprised (though you probably shouldn't have been) to see Barbatos standing there, composed as ever. When the butler saw your head sprouting from behind Diavolo's his eyes widened slightly before returning to normal.
"Hello, MC, welcome back."
You waved. "Hi Barbatos! I missed you."
He chuckled. "I must admit I missed you too. Young master, shall I prepare your room with fresh night clothes for MC as well? It's quite late."
You glanced at him and while he had dried his tears, his eyes were still rimmed with red and his nose was running. So he just nodded and said "Yes, thank you Barbatos. Could you possibly run us a bath, please?"
"Yes, my lord." He nodded at you once more with a knowing smile and closed the door behind him.
You looked back to your boyfriend and smiled. You gently kissed him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders again. "My love, I'm so happy to be back. I missed you more than anything."
He managed a smile and helped you down from his desk. "I was so worried about you, MC, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back."
You squeezed his hand tightly as he lead you out of the office and down the hall that lead to his personal wing of the castle. "Well you don't have to think about that anymore."
He nodded and for the first time you've seen that night, and most likely in general since you've been gone, a genuine smile took over his face and his usual playfulness returned. "Will you spend the weekend here with me, MC?"
You nodded. "Of course, I was going to ask you if I could, anyway... oh! Diavolo..." you sheepishly looked at him and pulled out your D.D.D.. "Do you think we could get me a new one sometime this weekend?"
He laughed. "Of course, my dear. Is there anything else you need? Anything at all, just say the word."
"No," you started, opening the door to his room and flopping onto his bed. "Just you."
His smile turned soft and his eyes were filled with love. "That can surely be arranged."
Simeon
You knocked desperately on the front door of Purgatory Hall, hoping to see your boyfriend's face. All you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms right about now.
Soon enough, you heard faint footsteps from behind the door and the sound of a lock unlatching. The door opened a crack and you looked down to see a certain blonde boy's wide eyes. Your own eyes widened in surprise, as you weren't expecting Luke to be up at this hour.
"MC?!" He exclaimed, opening the door wider and throwing himself at you for a hug.
You laughed a little and kneeled down to hug him properly. "Luke! I've missed you."
You both walked further into the entry hall and he refused to let go of you after the door closed. "We were so worried about you, MC! Are you alright? Did you get hurt?"
You patted him on the head. "I'm okay, buddy, promise. I'm glad to be back in our time."
Another pair of footsteps was heard as you and Luke had your little reunion. Your heart raced in excitement, recognizing the pattern of the footfall.
"Luke? Who was at the-"
You smiled as his words cut off and he stared at you, frozen and clearly shocked by your arrival. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Hi, Simeon."
Your voice brought him out of his trance.
He rushed to you and held you close. Everything about your boyfriend was gentle- his tone, his smile, his disposition... his touch normally was, too, but in this moment he held you tighter than he ever had before.
And you clung to him just as tight.
He pulled away after a minute, just taking you in- making sure you were real. His eyes turned glassy as he fought back tears. "MC... you're here. You're okay."
You nodded and felt your own eyes well up a little. "I'm okay, Simeon. I'm even better now that I'm here."
He took a shaky breath and composed himself, nodding once and turning to Luke, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Simeon, let's bring them to the parlor. We have so much to catch up on. We could watch a movie- oh! We could do some late night baking..."
The two of you shared a longing look as he rambled on about all the things you could do that night. There was a silent understanding between the two of you that you wanted some alone time, so he gave you a sly smile before addressing the boy.
"I know you're not going to like what I have to say, Luke, but it's getting late."
The angel frowned immediately and crossed his arms. "But Simeon, I want to spend time with MC!"
"I know, but you were already about to go to bed before answering the door. It's best to stay on schedule so you don't ruin your sleep cycle."
"But how is this any different than when you let me stay up late during our sleepovers?"
"Well..." he had a point. "I'm sure that MC is tired right now from their trip back. Time travel must be very draining, you know."
You stifled a laugh as Simeon grasped at straws to get more alone time with you and decided to help him out when he shot you a pleading look.
"Luke, how about we wake up early tomorrow and make breakfast together? Simeon's right, I'm exhausted and I want to be wide awake when we hang out. Does that sound okay? I'll spend the night and you can wake me up as soon as you wake up."
This seemed to satisfy him and he nodded, before hugging you one last time and running up to his room with a quick "Goodnight!"
You both waited for the sound of his door closing before his lips were on yours. You sighed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. It was soft and needy and longing. Exactly what the two of you needed. Your hands tugged at his hair and his hands roamed from your waist to your hips. His touch was back to being gentle.
You stayed like that for a bit, one hand trailing down to play with the hair on the nape of his neck.
When he pulled away after a while, a little breathless, he tugged you to his bedroom and let you rummage around through the drawer of your clothes he let you have for whenever you stayed the night.
When you were both changed and laying under his covers, cuddled up as close as possible, he kissed your temple. "I missed you so much, MC..." he whispered. "I was terrified that you would be harmed."
You turned on your side to face him properly. "I'm okay, Simeon. I just missed you a lot. You were there, you know... and you were almost the same. It was so hard for me to hold back from acting how I normally would with you..." you traced a finger along the bridge of his nose and then over his cheekbones. "I had to remember that it wasn't a version of you that knows me like you do. You were so close but so far."
He caressed your cheek with his knuckles and gazed at you with a loving smile. "Well I'm here, and it's me. I'm all yours, MC. You're okay."
If he was being honest, he felt like he could breathe again. Being away from you, knowing where- when- you were and not being able to help in any way was torture. Having you back safe and sound was the biggest blessing he could ever receive.
You leaned up to kiss him again and then rested your forehead against the crook of his neck. "I love you, Simeon."
"I love you too, MC. I'm so glad you're back."
Barbatos
Once you entered the castle, you immediately asked around to find out if anyone had seen him. The first few servants had no clue, but welcomed you back to the castle with a smile. It wasn't until the fifth servant you had run into that you got an idea of where he might be.
"I believe I saw him heading down to the dungeon about an hour ago. He's been spending a lot of time there lately- when he's not tending to the prince, of course. If you wait there, he should be about done with his... ah... appointment," he said.
"Thank you!" And then you were dashing to the top of the stairs leading to the dungeon. Just as you were about to descend the staircase, a familiar figure was ascending.
You both froze and stared at each other for a good few seconds, taking in the fact that he was in his demon form, covered in blood and carrying a bag. This certainly wasn't the reunion either of you were expecting.
However that didn't matter, because as you were too excited to finally have him back, you jumped into his arms, not caring about any blood on your already trashed clothes.
"Barbatos, I've missed you so much," you sighed in the crook of his neck.
He finally seemed to register was was happening and dropped the bag, wrapping his arms around you. His tail curled around your leg as well, a seemingly unconscious act. "MC... I've missed you, too." He said, slightly breathless. It wasn't often that anyone could catch him off guard, so you smiled slightly at your achievement.
Once he regained his composure, he immediately pulled back and looked you over for any injuries he could attend to. "Are you alright, my dear? Are you hurt? When did you get back?"
You cupped his cheeks and smiled up at him. "I'm alright. I got back about an hour ago, I just woke up in my room. I wanted to see you right away after I got done with the brothers," you said, and then ran a thumb under his eye.
"I'm happy you're back." He said, bringing up the hand with the less soiled glove to rest over your own. "I feel much more at ease now that you're here."
He'd never tell you how much of an understatement that was. He felt like everything was right again. His heart had been pounding in his chest ever since you made eye contact. He'd never tell you, but he was sure that you knew.
You smiled at him teasingly. "Have you been taking your nerves out on the prisoners? Is that why you're covered in blood?"
He chuckled. "It might be. Would that be so wrong? It's an effective way to relieve stress."
You snorted as he uncoiled his tail from your leg and brought your hands down to swing in between you both as you walked. "That's fair... Barbatos, would it be too much to ask if I could stay with you tonight?"
He squeezed your hand slightly. "Not at all, I was going to insist upon it. I still have things I must tend to tonight, but I need to clean myself off first. And while I'm at it, I will get you some new clothes. Then you should see the young master to let him know you're back."
You nodded at him and clung to his arm. One thing that hadn't changed from back then was how to the point and blunt he was. It was admirable, really. He smiled a bit as you walked, feeling perfectly content for the first time in a while.
Once you were both cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothing, you headed to Diavolo's office. You weren't nearly as nervous to see him as you were your boyfriend, but nerves still bubbled in your stomach. He was a close friend, after all.
Barbatos knocked and entered, signaling for you to wait a moment. You could hear muffled speech from the other side of the door before it opened again and he ushered you in.
Diavolo's eyes lit up. "MC, welcome back! You must be so glad to be home safe. I hope you're able to rest well tonight. We'll call a meeting tomorrow with everyone so you and Solomon can explain everything in detail. For now I expect you to take it easy for tonight."
You grinned at him. "Thank you, Diavolo. I'm happy to be back." You looked at Barbatos briefly to address him in a softer tone. "Should I wait in your room or the parlor?"
He was about to respond before Diavolo cut in. "Oh, Barbatos, you're dismissed for tonight. I'm just about done here, anyway."
The butler's eyes widened. "My lord?"
"You deserve to spend this time with them, take the night off."
"...Are you sure, my lord?"
He nodded and then looked at you pointedly. It was clear he was conveying along the lines of 'get him out of here, I can't convince him on my own'.
You smiled and bowed your head at him in thanks and gently tugged your boyfriend out of the office. "Come on, my love."
Once you were back in the hallway, he looked at you. "Are you hungry? I could bake for you, it's not too late yet."
You nodded. "That would be great, thank you..." you kissed him on the cheek as you walked, laughing slightly at his still-stunned expression.
Clearly he wasn't expecting much free time tonight, but with one glance at you, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend it. "When we're done in the kitchen, I think we should turn in for the night a bit early..." he leaned in close and brushed his lips against your cheek. "Does that sound alright with you, my love?"
You shuddered and nodded, looking up at him with an expression that matched his own. "That sounds perfect."
He was so happy to have you back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm so happy to have this done!! it was genuinely so much fun to write... I'm sorry for Barb's section being so... short? and ooc? I had the hardest time figuring out how I wanted to portray him and I think I'm going to have to keep working on it cause I'm not 100% happy with it, but we'll see!
I also dug up some unrealized feelings I have for Diavolo with this fic, cause now I'm like totally head over heels for him.
all in all though, I hope you enjoyed!!
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
Note
what if you were a sorcerer who was dating nanami and when you came back from some mission abroad you got to meet itadori and watch nanami be all dad-like (and itadori obviously loves you)
I LOVED this idea and I thank you in the name of everyone reading this fic for suggesting it before what happened last episode 😭 Please let me know what you think!
Nanami's girlfriend watching Nanami being in full dad mode with Yuji
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Pairing: Nanami x girlfriend!reader
Word Count: 1,6k
Synopsis: After finally coming back home from a mission far away, all you want to do is seeing your precious boyfriend Kento again. But instead of a afternoon of cuddling him, you get to see him act like a real dad towards a new student.
Warnings: Really none, mild language here and there, Nanami being the best dad ever, this is the comfort we all need
It’s been a hell of a month. A month of desperately fighting against countless curses, a month away from the love of your life. At first it was like a punch in your face, realizing that you won’t be able to see Kento within the next weeks. And even though you texted every free minute and he called you every night, you missed him more than anything. But now, you’re finally on your way back. Back into your normal life, back into the open arms of your boyfriend.
Your feet carry you down the path to Jujutsu High on their own, remembered with every fiber of your being. Despite all the horrible things you had to endure, being a jujutsu sorcerer feels like your unshakable fate. Even better that Kento is right by your side every step of the way.
“(y/n), is that you? Haven’t see ya for ages! Heard you did really well at…wherever you were”, Gojo shouts from afar.
Your heart jumps up and down in joy, turning around and waving at him frantically. Oh, you never thought you’d miss seeing his stupid grin every morning this much.
“I’m just glad it’s over. Hey, did you see Kento? I’m searching for him”, you reply.
Please, let him be at Jujutsu High. When he called you yesterday, he wasn’t sure whenever he’ll have to leave for a mission today or not. Maybe he’s still here, maybe you’ll be able to help him out. Fighting by his side definitely sounds better than waiting another second to see him, even though all you want to do right now is lay down and sleep for 15 hours straight.
“Oh, he’s in the main building, talking with a new student. You should pay them a visit, I’m sure Yuji will love you.”
Yuji, huh? You haven’t heard his name before. To be honest, the only new student you know of his Megumi Fushiguro. Were you really gone that long? You sign to yourself before shaking your head, a smile forming itself on your lips.
Other than your boyfriend, you love to greet the new students with all your heart. After all, they are your future, the ones who will look after everything when you are gone. It’s your responsibility as well to make them feel welcomed, right?
“In the classroom?”
“Yup. I have to leave now, send my best wishes to precious Nanami!”
You giggle to yourself with a wide smile, moving towards the main building of Jujutsu High, Gojo’s dumb grin still present in your mind. Despite the fact that Kento tells you over and over how annoying that white-haired man is, you know that he still likes him deep down.
Deep deep down.
“Kento?”, you gently question into the biggest classroom in the building, eyes peaking through the door ever so slightly.
Your heart jumps in confusion. Huh, he’s not there. But Gojo sounded so sure of his words. Also, he just came back from the main building, so he knew for sure…
“Where the hell are you”, you mutter to yourself, roaming around the different rooms like a lost puppy.
Until suddenly, your ears perk up.
“Nanami-sensei, I’m looking forward working with you!” a young male voice announces with so much passion that you just have to draw closer.
Wait, did that boy just call your boyfriend Nanami-sensei?
“I’m not a teacher here, don’t call me sensei.”
You giggle to yourself at the annoyed tone in Kento’s voice. Oh, you just know that this touched his heart, without any doubt. Even if he’d never admit it.
“Sorry, it’s just that I think I can learn a lot from you. Gojo-sensei told me about your abilities and I want to be as good as you someday!”
Your heart melts in an instant against the wall, a gently smile plastered on your face. What a sweet boy. Is he the one Gojo talked about earlier, the new student who just arrived named Yuji?
“I’m just here to do my work, Itadori”, your boyfriend remarks dryly.
You bet he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his tall figure lingering over the boy as if he wouldn’t care about his words at all. But you know him better than that. You know he’ll tell you about all the things this student said just before drifting off to sleep that night. Your fingertips begin to tickle, body aching to move closer to the door, to enter it, to finally see your boyfriend again. It’s been so long since you last saw him him, months without sinking into his opened arms.
Fuck it.
“Kento”, you breathe out, body stumbling through the door when you finally catch a glimpse of him.
Oh, he looks just as good as you imagined. Hair neatly trimmed as usual, broad chest covered by his dark blue shirt with his sleeved rolled up ever so slightly and his strong arms crossed.
The eyes of the boy in front of him widen, a bright grin forming on his lips when catching a glimpse of you.
“You must be the new student. Welcome at Jujutsu High! My name is (y/n) and I am a grade 1 sorcerer and this man’s girlfriend. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to call me”, you interduce yourself warmly along with giving him a soft clap on his shoulder.
“You are Nanami-sensei’s girlfriend?”, he repeats without thinking twice.
“Don’t call me that”, Kento grumbles.
“It’s so nice to finally see you again, sweetheart. I missed you”, he continues, placing his hand around your waist in a way that makes you see stars.
Your heart skips a beat, body falling against his in an instant. If he only knew how much you missed him too, how much it touches you to finally be able to lean against his shoulder again. But you will have to put your longing feelings aside until the evening. After all, Kento still has work to do as it seems.
“It’s an honour to meet you, (y/n)-sensei! I hope to work with you someday.”
“Oh, you definitely will”, you giggle at the sweet boy with pink hair in front of you.
“I’ll leave now for my mission.”
“Wait”, Nanami interrupts immediately.
You look up at your boyfriend in surprise. Why is his jaw suddenly so tight?
“There is no way I will let you go there alone.”
“But Nanami-sensei-”
“Don’t call me that. As far as I know, this might be a grade 1 curse. I won’t let you go on your own.”
Oh god, he’s worried. Despite he tries to hide it so miserably, it’s written on his slightly scrunched up face.
You desperately try to hide the grin that starts creeping up your facial features from your boyfriend, covering your cheeky mouth with your hand. It was rare for you to actually see him around his students. And while you know very well how much he cares for him, you never thought he’d sound like a full-on dad while talking to them.
“So you’ll come with me?”
The eyes from the boy in front of you light up immediately, jumping up and down in joy while your boyfriend signs next to you.
“Come on, show a little mercy”, you mutter into his ear amused.
“Get going, Itadori-kun. I don’t want to be late for dinner.”
“Of course, Nanami-sensei. Oh, it was really nice to meet you, (y/n)-sensei, I really hope I’ll see you again someday.”
“Come on or we’ll be late”, your boyfriend protests.
-later that evening-
“How are you doing, love? Does it still hurt?”
Gently, you rub the ointment on the minor wound that is left on his right side, eyes locked with his gorgeous ones.
“Don’t worry, I’m alright. It’s Itadori-kun I’m worried about.”
“You seem to really care about this boy”, you comment softly, hands busy with bandaging him up.
“Not in the way you suggest”, he immediately replies, serious eyes locking with yours.
Pictures of your first encounter with Yuji flood your mind, how your boyfriend spoke to him and refused to let him go on his own. And even now, he seems to have this boy on his precious mind.
“You kinda act like a dad though.”
His eyes widen in horror, hand grabbing your shoulder faster than you’re able to react.
“That’s not true.”
“I doubt it”, you challenge him with a bright smile, bursting out in uncontrollable giggling.
With a swift motion he places himself on top of you, staring down at you in all seriousness with a minor spark of humour glimmering in his eyes while you can’t catch your breath from all the laughter.
“I’m not acting like a dad.”
“Oh, you totally do”, you press out, the sheer weight of his immense body on top of yours making it hard to breathe along with snickering your heart out.
“I just don’t want him to get hurt. He’s still in his first year and new at Jujutsu High. Also, I’m not fully convinced that Gojo takes good care of him”, Nanami explains briefly.
“Well, that’s exactly what good dads do.”
“(y/n)”, he warns you.
He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you aren’t even able to see his face anymore, dying of laughter against his chest while making a few miserable attempts to free yourself out of his grip. God, how much you love that man. How much you love the way he cares about others while not admitting to himself, how he looks after people before thinking even about himself. Kento Nanami has a heart made out of pure gold that he shows far too rare.
“But do you…do you really think I’d be a good dad?”
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Three for One 6
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: I'm so tireddddd
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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The keypad beeps and Lloyd quickly flicks the handle, kicking open the door so it hits something solid. You hear a grunt as the man on the other side stumbles back. It all happens so fast you don't get a glimpse of the code. Not much use if they lock you inside.
“What the fuck?” Ransom grabs the door and swings it open, “she got away–”
“Right here, peachy keen,” Lloyd sneers as pressure pinpoints on either side of your neck. You whine and try to loosen his hand, “she got you good, huh?”
“She’s sneaky,” Ransom mutters, “whatever. She can’t get out.”
“But she locked you in,” he snorts.
A growl ripples through the air. You’re turned back to face Ernie as he stands at the end of the hall. His head goes low as his jowls bunch up and he bares his teeth. He snarls as he slowly walks closer.
“Oh fuck,” Ransom puts the door between him and the hall, peeking around it.
“This fucking thing,” the other man utters, “tell it to stop.”
“Ah, ah,” you squeak as Ernie gets closer. “I– you’re hurting me. It’s making him mad.”
“I’m about to hurt him,” Lloyd threatens.
“Ernie,” you yipe and put a hand out, “Ern, please, I’m–” you choke, “okay.”
His thunderous warning grows louder. You reach with your fingers and he touches them with his nose. You caress the rough ridge and hush him, “please, sit. Please.”
His teeth gleam dangerously but he puts his rear down and hides his canines again. His chagrin nestles just above his usually doleful eyes and he looks between the two men; the one hiding behind the door and the one latched onto you.
“We need a fucking cage for that thing,” Ransom comments.
“And here I was thinking we need one for the girl,” Lloyd scoffs.
“Or you know, you could let us both go,” you suggest, writhing on your toes.
“Smart,” Lloyd sneers. “I can’t wait to train that mouth.” You turn your head and show your teeth, snapping them shut. His brows arch at the gesture and he gives an emphatic shiver, “I’m starting to like the feisty thing.”
“You’ve never been picky,” Ransom lets the door fall open, “get her in here.”
“Here,” Lloyd spins and flings you at the other man, “I’ll keep watch, make sure you don’t get locked in again.”
“Shut up,” Ransom grabs your arm and drags you away. He shoves you so you hit the foot of the bed. “Listen, you little bitch,” he keeps his voice low, “don’t fucking embarrass me again, got it?”
You flip your head back and gape at him. What are you supposed to do?
“And dont give me that fucking look,” he points in your face.
Or what? You swallow the words and stand straight. You face him and shrug. He’s not half as scary as the man outside the door, but both together are insurmountable.
You try to wipe away your irritation. You want this night to end. You want to go home. You don’t know how much more you can handle as your anger gives way to something more potent. Fear.
He slowly turns to the open wardrobe, peeking back at you as you cross your arms. You nibble your lip and avert your eyes. Your adrenaline dissolves and fatigue tugs at your muscles. You’re not giving up, you’re only biding your time. It might just take a little longer than you like.
“This,” Ransom tosses a furry white sweater on the bed, “this.”
You consider the outfit. The sweater is cropped and there’s a gold sequin heart on the front. The skirt is almost as short with ruffled tiers. It’s not really your taste but it hardly matters.
He slams the doors of the wardrobe and tosses down a pair of sheer stockings with ribbons wove through the top. These are just a few pieces of a full collection. How long have they been planning this? Had they followed you long or were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time?
You lift your eyes as he stares at you. You frown. He lowers his chin, “well?”
“Well, uh, can I get some privacy?”
He blinks slowly.
“Come on, pussy cat, show us some peach,” Lloyd taunts from the doorway as he peers through.
You gulp. This is getting too real. The only thing keeping you from full panic is the fact of your futility. Freaking out would only play into their game.
“Right, I get it,” you turn to the bed, “you can’t trust me. I ran. I ran and I got pretty far. So I don’t blame you for being paranoid.”
“Paranoid?” Ransom scoffs.
“You didn’t get that far,” Lloyd intones.
You ignore him and pull the clothes to the end of the bed. You put your back to Lloyd but can’t avoid Ransom. You look down at your jacket and slowly unzip it. Your scalp is itchy with sweat as you let the heat out from under the downy layer.
You drop your coat on the bed and bend to unlace your boots. You focus on the little things first. Boots, socks, your favourite red sweater with the white hearts. You lay each piece down deliberately, closer and closer to the inevitable.
You peel off the camisole you wore under the wool layer and take the furry sweater from the bed. There’s clucking from the door. You stiffen and clutch the fluffy fabric.
“Everything,” Lloyd orders. 
You put the sweater back down and shudder. You hear Ransom’s breath catch as you reach behind you to unhook your bra. His eyes bore into you as the floor creaks. You sense the other man breaks the threshold.
“Little help?” The call from down the hall makes you flinch and a hum escapes Ransom. You look at him as his eyes linger on your chest.
“Shit,” Lloyd huffs, “don’t tell him.”
He leaves you alone with the other man. You take a breath and let your bra fall down your arms. You quickly swipe up the furry sweater and pull it on, but not without causing your tits to jiggle one last time.
“Those almost make it worth it,” he snickers.
You undo your pants as you keep to task. It’s so surreal but undeniable. It’s entirely clear what this is. Their intent is written in every glance, every comment. You roll down your jeans and stand in your undies and the fluffy sweater. Your thumbs hook in the elastic of your underwear as you pivot, trying to hide yourself as best you can as you strip the cotton away.
You just as swiftly step into the skirt, pulling it up to cling snugly around your waist. Ransom gets closer, petting the sleeve of your sweater as he does. His breath grits in his throat.
“Wanna close that door again,” he purrs.
You take the stockings, ignoring the proposition. Shit. You bend and roll the first one up to your thigh, the lace speckled with the little hearts. You slip on the other and stand straight.
He looms over you and shifts slowly towards you. His sole drags on the floor. He’s stopped only by a low drone from the doorway.
Ernie stands watching, glaring at that man. Your heart leaps and you do too. You flit forward to the dog and rub his ears.
“Shh, boy, it’s okay,” you glance back at Ransom, “I won’t let him hurt you.”
His eyes narrow. His shoulders drop slightly, the disappointment of your evasion clear. The close call sears down your back.
He trails you down the hall as Ernie walks beside you. You keep your hand in his fur, clinging to him for strength. It’s not about you, it’s about keeping him safe. 
You enter the front room and find Lloyd scowling at a string of lights as Andy kneels in front of a box. It’s a weird scene to come upon. These two villains in such a wholesome position. Their sinister intentions could almost be mistaken.
Andy looks up and pauses as he holds a large red ornament. His lips part as he sees you. Fire blazes across your cheeks at the way his eyes dilate. He clears his throat and holds up the oblong decoration.
“You gonna come help, honey?”
You nod and let go of Ernie. He stays at your heels as you go to the other side of the box. You bend your knees and reach in, plucking out a clear ball with fake snow inside. You feel the eyes on you, waiting for a hint of something more.
Ernie paces behind you, a wall of fur roving back and forth. You want him to calm down, his energy fueling your own. You pause and turn to pet his broad back.
“Ern, it’s okay, boy, relax,” you twine your fingers into the thick strands and scratch him, “lay down… please.”
You nudge him slightly. He resists. His head moves from side to side as he looks at each man. He huffs and flops down, thumping onto the floor beside you.
“That’s cute. He takes care of you,” Andy says, “sweet girl like you, who wouldn’t?”
You make yourself smile. It’s not very difficult. You have extensive training in faking it. You step around the box and take the ornament to the tree. Lloyd is there, trying to wrap lights around the branches. He sidles closer as you reach to hang the decoration.
“Little higher,” he leans back, looking behind you. You don’t know why you listen but you do. 
You stand on your toes and hook the ball over the upper tier. You feel cool air tickle the bottom of your ass, you’re not the only one to notice. Lloyd groans, Ransom chokes, and Andy exhales sharply. You feel like you’re on display, the tree is just secondary.
You put your arms down and tug at the sides of the skirt, cautiously going back to the box. You reach down, bending in your legs not your waist. Your eyes meet Andy’s as you reach for another ornament. His lashes flick hotly.
“Did I tell you how good you look, honey?” He growls.
Lloyd chuckles and Ransom joins in. You’re not sure what’s so funny or how to react. You look around and toy with the decoration in your hand. You stand on the sides of your feet, swaying nervously.
“Lawyers, man. They’ll never say what they want outright,” Lloyd remarks.
“Shut up,” Andy hisses, “I’m being nice.”
“You’re being a fucking simp,” Ransom sniffs.
“Don’t listen to them,” he says to you directly, “I mean it, you look really… pretty.”
“Well, every time she moves, her ass falls out, so I’d say she’s not too bad on the eyes,” Lloyd chortles. “How do you think she is on the dick? That sweater looks soft, let her keep it on, maybe put her in my lap–”
“Hey,” Andy tosses an ornament at him as you back away, mortified. “Don’t be disgusting.”
“Don’t act like you don’t want to get disgusting all over her. What’sa matter? The wife doesn’t put it in her mouth anymore and you can’t get past half-chub–”
“You’re both fucking pathetic,” Ransom comes forward to reach into the box, retracting as Ernie pops his head up and growls. You quiet the dog as the man drops several ornaments onto the floor in his fright.
“Pot, kettle, black as our souls,” Lloyd says.
“Let’s get the tree decorated,” Andy insists, “it’ll be Christmas soon enough…” he plants his foot, straining as he stands, “we’ve wasted enough time.”
He rounds the box, brushing by you. You don’t fail to noise how his fingertips tickle your upper thigh, along with the other men’s gazes as they note the same thing. You turn to trail after Andy and hang your decoration next to his. Another cool flow wafts up your skirt, eliciting another communal hum from the other men.
“Who’s gonna trim my tree?” Lloyd jokes crudely.
He gets only a growl from Andy as you refuse to acknowledge the comment. Ransom hovers at the edge of the room as Ernie stares him down. The large dog doesn’t get up but remains alert. You feel awful to bring him into this. He must be so confused, even more than you are.
🎀
Once the tree is decorated, your energy is completely spent. Your vigilance drains away what’s left and you lower yourself to the floor to sit with Ernie. He lets you lean on him and puts his head on your knee.
“Tired?” Andy asks.
You can only nod.
It’s a strange, almost numb hollowness. That sort of surrender that comes with just not having anything left in you. There’s that voice that tells you not to give up but it can’t drown out the blaring fatigue.
“You should lay down,” he suggests.
“With who?” Lloyd asks as he stretches his neck side to side.
“That’s not the deal,” Andy girds.
“Fucking chill. I’m kidding. Don’t worry,” he shows his palms, “I won’t open my Christmas present early.”
“Can I?” You ask as you drag a hand down Ernie’s side.
“Yeah, come on,” Andy offers his hand.
You should refuse. You should get up on your own but you’re not sure you even can. Before you can reach for the helpful hand, you’re scooped up from behind. You yelp and Ernie barks as he jumps to his feet.
“Woah, woah,” Lloyd dodges him as he holds you in his arms, “tell the mutt to cool it. I’m helping.”
“Ernie,” you eke out, hanging a hand down for him.
“Oh, pussy cat, you’re gettin’ sleepy,” he teases as he carries you past Andy, a defiant look shot in his direction, “let daddy put you to bed.”
Andy follows, Ernie too. Ransom keeps a cautious eye on the latter.
You don’t protest as you’re carried down the hall. He turns into the bedroom and takes you to the bed. As he puts you down, his hand shamelessly stops on your ass and spreads wide.
“Oops,” he feigns embarrassment, “must’ve slipped.”
“Hey,” Andy charges in and rips his arm back, “enough. She needs to sleep.”
“Look, she can sleep and I can do my thing. Multitasking–”
“We agreed–”
“Actually, you just talk at us and assume we do,” Lloyd counters sourly.
“I’m tired,” you mope.
“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that?” Lloyd snaps.
You frown and roll your eyes. You look past him as you pet the bed. Ernie bounds over and hops up, nearly knocking over Lloyd as he leaps onto the bed. He lays down beside you, his fluffy tail stretching past the end. You lay back and pet his head.
“Come on,” Andy inserts himself between the other man and the bed, “we all do our part, we all follow the plan.”
There’s silence. You peek over at the men as they stare each other down. You don’t say a word as you hug Ernie’s large head.
“I had a better one,” Lloyd hisses.
“We agreed,” Andy repeats. “We let her sleep. It’s her first night.”A sigh. Lloyd backs up and Andy looks over his shoulder at you. He gives a small smile and you nestle down into the bed. You close your eyes as your heart pounds in your ribcage. First night? Of how many?
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runnning-outof-time · 2 months
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A (Debatably) Lovely Dinner | Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader
Summary: (Y/N) has her family over for a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. Her father and uncles tell her that it tastes lovely...but are they actually thinking that?
Warnings: drinking, language
Word Count: 1773
A/N: this is the first daughter!reader fic I’ve written in a bit - I hope it’s good. I’m excited to be writing requests again! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories!
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(Y/N) wrang her hands together as she looked over all of the pots that were currently boiling on the stove. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to compose herself and shake the nerves from her body.
"You're doing great, love. It's going to be a good meal," her husband, James, offered some encouragement as he came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he pulled her into his chest.
"Maybe I should have accepted the catering offer? There's a lot of people coming over," she expressed her worry, eyes still focused on the pots. She then began to wonder why she even agreed to hosting her family in the first place.
"This is going to be extra special because you made it all," he told her, kissing her temple once more before letting her get back to work. "And your cooking is wonderful," he complimented her, sending a smile her way as she turned to look at him.
She smiled back, although it wavered due to the nerves she was still feeling, watching as he exited the kitchen before she got back to work.
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(Y/N) was bringing the final dish to the dining table two hours later. She smiled at everyone who was waiting patiently for dinner to start and took a deep breath as she moved to stand behind her husband's chair.
"James and I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I hope that you enjoy what I've prepared for you to eat," she gave a small speech, her nervous smile still present as she then sat down.
"Let's eat then, eh?" Tommy suggested, smiling at his daughter from the opposite end of the table. He was proud of her for this vast spread that she'd managed to cook up. It smelled wonderful to him.
Comments of agreement came from around the table as everyone began taking dishes and spooning helpings of the food onto their plates. (Y/N) watched as this happened, wanting to make sure all was well; filling her plate last.
Dinner began quietly, the sounds of forks hitting plates the only thing to be heard. (Y/N) couldn't help but sneak a few glances around the table, wanting to see if there were any problems. All looked fine to her.
Somehow, she didn't manage to catch her uncles, John and Arthur, throwing sideways glances at each other in between each bite they took. Something about the taste seemed off to them. Whether it was the seasoning on the roast, or the choice or cut of the vegetables, the food wasn't exactly pleasurable to eat.
But the pleased look on their niece's face told them that she was happy to have the family over, eating a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. They couldn't even think of ruining things for her by bringing up the fact that her cooking was well under par.
And besides, Tommy seemed to be fine with eating it, and he never ate anything.
Dinner continued and small talk was made. The usual discussion of business between the Shelby family had been swapped for stories of the past and the men making arrangements for their annual hunting trip that was fastly approaching.
All was well until (Y/N) decided to ask the table for opinions on the food. "How has everyone been enjoying the food?" She wasn't sure if she was being too upfront in asking for opinions, but no one had offered any prior to her question, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't dying to know their thoughts.
"Lovely as always, darling," her husband, James, was the first to share his thoughts on it, sending her a smile as he cut himself another piece of the roast.
"Thanks, James," she smiled back at him before looking out to the rest of the table. No one else's eyes met hers; their gazes cast down on their plates. Maybe that means they really like the food, she thought to herself. "Dad?" she asked after a few moments had passed. Tommy looked up at her, his brows raised as if to say 'what?' "What do you think?" she asked, curious to know what his thoughts on the meal were.
"It's good, love," he told her, nodding as he grabbed his glass of whiskey, "really good."
"Thank you," she chirped in response, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She grabbed her fork and knife then and went to cut a piece of the roast.
"Well I think that..." another comment started to come out, but it was abruptly stopped. "What the bloody hell was that for?" the voice belonged to Linda Shelby, and she was now glaring daggers at her husband, Arthur. Arthur had his brows furrowed as he glanced between his wife and (Y/N), a bit of an uneasy expression present on his face. "Spit it out, Arthur," she snapped in a harsh whisper. Arthur said nothing of sustenance though, instead just shaking his head and muttering "don't," under his breath.
"Were you going to say something, Linda?" (Y/N) asked, her curiosity peaked as she focused on the blonde woman.
Linda shared one last look with her husband, who was still discreetly shaking his head, before she plastered a smile on her face and turned to look at the younger woman. "I was just going to say that...that...this is a lovely dinner, (Y/N)," she finally shared her opinion on the cooking, although it may not have been originally what she wanted to say. (Y/N) took it though, a smile breaking onto her features.
"Aww thanks so much, Linda. I was so worried about this dinner. I'm so happy to hear that everyone is enjoying it," (Y/N) expressed her previous worries with the group, earning a chorus of 'no it was good’ comments in response.
Overly pleased with herself now, (Y/N) was smiling from ear to ear as she continued eating her dinner. Just wait until they try the dessert, she thought to herself, pride flowing through her.
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The Shelby men followed James into his study after the dessert plates had been removed from the table. (Y/N) had decided to take the women around for a tour of her new home, a tour which the men felt they didn't need to join. All five of them had a glass in their hand, and they were seated on the chairs that were positioned around the mantle.
"I don't know how you do it, James," Arthur said with a sigh as he brought his glass back to his lips. He took a drink and then let out a sigh after swallowing it.
"Do what?" James was confused by the older man's statement.
"Eat (Y/N)'s food daily," Arthur didn't beat around the bush. "I mean, she's me neice and I love her, but the food she cooks is fucking terrible."
James nodded slowly in response to Arthur's statement, a knowing look present on his face as he looked like he was fighting a smile. He then took a look at Tommy, checking the waters before sharing information about the daughter of a man who could do some nasty damage if he said the wrong thing. He wasn't surprised to see his father in law looking at him.
"Well how do ya do it?" John broke the silence, signaling to the other man that he'd been taking too long to respond.
"She's my wife," he began, a smile forming on his face, "I've learned to love every part of being with her."
"Ah you've gone soft, lad," Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the response he got before he set his sights on his brother, "and you, Tom…how do you do it, brother?"
Tommy laughed to himself as he heard the question. He brought his whiskey up and took a sip, pausing for a moment longer before finally answering the question: "guess it grows on you." His response was simple, and he followed it with a shrug.
"You both have not a clue what you're talking about," Arthur commented with a shake of his head, "John, help me out here. It's nothing against (Y/N)...her food's just downright terrible, right?" he looked to his younger brother for some back up.
"Right," John nodded, raising his glass in agreement.
"Good man," Arthur praised his brother for answering in line with him.
"I think her cooking's good," Finn chimed in from where he was sitting by the fire.
"You wouldn't know what's good for ya, Finn," Arthur dismissed his youngest brother's opinion. Finn shook his head and looked at the fire, wondering why he decided to add his two cents in the first place.
Silence fell in the room then, and James couldn't help but keep thinking about his response to Arthur's question. It made him chuckle as he realized that maybe he hadn't been completely truthful with what he had said.
"What's funny?" John asked, catching the other man's laugh.
All eyes were on him in an instant. He could tell by their intent gazes that he wouldn't be able to get out of this one. "Nothing...it's just that," he paused, letting out a breathy laugh as he shook his head, "I will admit that her cooking has been harder to learn to love than the rest of her," he shared what he'd been thinking.
John and Arthur immediately began laughing, both happy that they'd gotten the young man to break and share his actual thoughts on their niece's cooking. They knew that he felt the same as they did just by the vague response he gave earlier, but hearing it cemented the victory.
"It took me a while too. You'll get there," Tommy cut through the laughter of his brothers to offer his son in law some advice. James smiled at Tommy, happy to know that maybe he'd be able to get used to it, just like his father in law had.
(Y/N) was sitting with the rest of the women in the front room. She'd become quiet, letting the others continue their conversation about the latest fashion trends. She had too much on her mind.
A smile was present on her face as she thought back to the dinner, and all of the lovely comments she received from her family. Giddiness bubbled up inside of her as her mind went to thinking about what she would cook for their next family dinner. She couldn’t wait to have them over again!
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ihavethedreamies · 1 month
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Pool Boy (5) | Beomgyu
Choi Beomgyu - TXT
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~4.7k o-O
Pairing: Beomgyu x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Porn with very little Plot
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Unspecified, he calls her Noona), Pet Names (Love, Lovely, Baby Girl, Noona, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex (at work but no one else is there), Unprotected Vaginal Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)
Summary: After you had been flirting with Beomgyu for a while, you decide to go for it despite his more…unique tastes. Luckily, the pool closes early.
Uh…Just utter filth, honestly. Beomgyu is a bit kinky.
Author's Note: This originally was going to be part of a really long series with a lot of plot, but it was taking too long and I was putting too much plot, more than I had initially planned. Because of that, I cut nearly all plot out and it's still four-thousands words of just fucking so…
None of the parts are reliant on the others, there is just a version for each boy.
-> Yeonjun <-
-> Taehyun <-
-> Soobin <-
-> Hueningkai <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Did you do what I asked?" Beomgyu smirked at you, his eyes playful as he looked up at you through the curtain of his bangs. He had been playing on his phone as you two talked. You had been flirting back and forth every day for nearly two weeks. When you brought up going past the make out sessions you had at the end of the day, he got very mischievous.
"Think you can handle what I like, lovely?" He smirked.
"What is it?" You smirked back, and the hands he had on your butt dug in, a meandering finger pressing between your cheeks. You gasped and pulled back. He looked a bit unsure, but you licked your lips and nodded.
"Tell me what I do."
That night he had sent you a screenshot of a certain product.
"When are you thinking?"
"Not till tonight."
"Tonight?" Beomgyu had left the chair, placing himself between your legs. His hands both rested on the back of your stool, caging you in…why did he smell so good? Did he always?
"Can you wait that long?" He nibbled your ear lobe, then licked along the rook of your ear. Your cunt clenched.
"You're eager." You teased and he huffed, pulling back.
"Too much?" His tone had shifted, and he looked a little nervous.
"No, Gyu. You only work the first shift, right?" You rested your hands on his shoulder, playing with the ends of his hair.
"Yeah…plus, I'm excited." He mumbled and turned a bit red.
"It's okay-" You assured, but your phone went off before you could continue. You reluctantly let each other go and picked it up. It was the boss.
"So there's this festival at the elementary school…" She immediately began.
"Yep."
"Why don't we close after lunch, there is like no one at the other places?" She suggested and you looked out toward the pool area. It was just the two women and another that had come alone.
"Okay, I can do that."
"Tell everyone they will still get paid. I can call the second shift. Thanks, (Y/N)!" She immediately hung up.
"Can you go tell everyone?" you asked him, heading to the back office. He dashed off to do so, and you got a piece of paper and tape and made a temporary sign that the pool was closed for the day. The women were willing to leave early, and the employees definitely were as well. It seemed the odds were in your two's favor. For about five minutes, you two sat in silence, making sure no one else came. Not even anyone walked by with their dog.
"Come here, noona!" Beomgyu pulled you back to him from where you were standing by the counter. You giggled as he groaned, pulling your hair to the side so he could mouth at your shoulder.
"No marks!" You enforced, then gasped when his hands cupped your breasts.
"Fine." His hands continued to wander, one sneaking under your shirt and bra to pinch at your nipple, the other finding the button of your shorts.
"Wait, wait!" You stopped him, leaning forward to pull the shutter closed.
"I need to lock up!" Beomgyu reluctantly let you go, your tank still messed up, bra strap dangling down your shoulder, and your button undone. You locked the gates first, then the doors to outside. The one leading to the snack and drink bars usually stayed open even when the pool was closed, but you shut it too. You opened the door to the back office, and you hoped the cool air would circulate through, and that the doors being shut would block some noise. Not knowing what Beomgyu had planned, you wanted to be prepared. Though, the…cleaning kit he had suggested you get was kind of a giveaway. You kicked your sandals off and he was on you. His lips sealed over yours, swallowing your gasp, and his tongue immediately invaded. You were expecting him to be a little inexperienced, sloppy maybe in haste, but no. He might have been the best you had ever had the pleasure of kissing. You whined when he hauled you closer, having to tiptoe a bit to get the best angle. Your hands wandered him, sliding up under his shirt and rubbing the soft skin of his back. As he pulled away from the kiss, he bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, then immediately laid searing open mouth kisses down to your neck. He smirked against your throat, his left hand wiggling under the waistband of your shorts. The hand also slipped past your panties and his hand gripped the flesh of your ass hard. You hummed in delight, his rapidly hardening cock pressed to your stomach. As his left hand palmed your behind, his right fiddled with your bra. It seemed he wanted to be cool and snap it open one-handed but was having trouble. He even stopped kissing your skin to focus and he cheered like a kid when he got it off. You giggled a bit, then stumbled when he pulled away fast, helping you yank your shirt up and off. If he was going to be hasty, so were you. You stripped him of his shirt just as fast and he groaned when your tongue ran over his collarbone. He chuckled as your kisses ran over his chest and down his stomach as you sunk to your knees.
"Shorts. Off." He nudged your clothed cunt with his toe, smiling when you grinded against the top of his shoe.
"I will if you do." You smirked. He stepped back and so you stood up and you let your shorts and panties fall, stepping back up to him. Beomgyu groaned watching as your fingers flew to his pants and undoing them. You had to remove his belt; the device necessary to keep his pants on due to him being so slim with such long legs. His pants fell as well, and he sighed in relief. While his underwear was still on, they were just boxers and loose. How did you get so freaking lucky that he looked like that and had a nice dick.
"How wet are you, lovely?" His long fingers stroked through your slick folds which made him groan.
"Fuck, get on the table." He suddenly got more aggressive, and it was…hot. He grabbed your arm, not hard, to lead you over. When you moved to sit on it, he tutted, spinning you. Beomgyu pushed you to fall on your chest on the surface and you didn't even have time to turn and look before his tongue was in your cunt.
"Fuck." You grunted, then whined. His tongue was skilled for sure. He was a great kisser, and he was devouring your cunt, making your legs twitch already. You noticed him grab the strap of his bag from the chair to your left and haul it to him. He rustled a bit and you yelped when his hands gripped your ass cheeks and spread you open.
"B-Beomgyu!" You shivered, feeling incredibly embarrassed. While you knew what he had planned from what he had you do to prepare, didn't mean you were ready mentally.
"Good girl." He cooed and then his tongue circled your pucker. It was an odd feeling, but not all that unwelcome. Beomgyu smirked at your whine then you jolted as something cold and wet pooled over your back hole. The scent of mango hit your nose and as you registered that he had dripped lube over you, his tongue was inside again.
"Oh my god-" You gasped; the feeling was incredibly strange. You whimpered as he tongue-fucked you, not able to stop your hips from twitching. Your cunt was literally dripping, and you heard him rustle more in his bag.
"I want to fuck your cute little ass today, noona, but they didn't have the right size condoms at the store. This'll have to do." He pulled away long enough to say that, then his tongue dove back in, helping ease his index finger in. Your breath hitched and you tried to take measured breaths and stay relaxed. While it was new and weird, the vulgar sexuality of it all made you dizzy.
"Haven't had a girl willing to let me do this yet, noona." He huffed and you flinched hard when his finger wiggled all the way in. The fruity lube dripped down his wrist and mixed with your own slick.
"Wait!" You gripped the table as his finger spread you open, his tongue sheathing back into your pussy. Having the stimulation in both holes was nearly too much.
"Okay, just wait." Beomgyu pulled his finger out slowly, and he laughed, almost sadistically.
"Can't fucking wait, though…." He mumbled and you felt something round on your pucker.
"Breathe." He coached and you did so, the little bead entering. You couldn't see behind you, but when a slightly large round followed you grunted. Your whole body shuddered and the sound of your slick splattering onto the concrete floor echoed around the shelter. On the fourth little ball, you realized it wasn't a bead strand but some kind of noduled vibrator. You sighed when the fifth one entered, and the flat end of the device nestled against your hole.
"Ah, fuck, Gyu!" Your exclamation made him laugh, pressing the remote in his hand once more to increase the buzzing again. He stood behind you, watching in delight at your whole-body reaction.
"Turn around." He hauled you up and you let out a long whimper when he gently pressed you onto your knees.
"Gyu~" Your eyes were already starting to glaze over, and he smiled at the goosebumps covering your skin, your nipples were hard too. The best was your bright red cheeks, which he stroked with his thumb.
"I'm gonna fuck your throat. Then I'm going to spray my cum over every inch of your skin I can." He promised lowly and you whimpered. Your hands braced on the floor and your squat changed as he finally shed his boxers. You swallowed hard, then opened your mouth, tongue out.
"Fucking hell, baby girl." He groaned and you did as well when his hand went to your head. Having a lot of practice, you timed your inhale well, because he didn't hesitate to bury inside your mouth, your nose pressing to the skin at the base of his cock. Beomgyu looked down at you, a smirk over his pretty face, eyes dark. He loved the tears brimming in your eyes and he showed you the remote in his hand. He cranked it up once more to the highest setting and your whine around his cock vibrated through him.
"Damnit, lovely." He huffed and right as you were starting to burn for air, he pulled his hips back, and you sucked in air harshly right as he let you. You wanted so bad for him to cum inside, but he had already hinted he would rather cover your face.
"Another day can you swallow, kay?" You nodded and he exhaled, then began to move his hips. His hands tugged hard on the base of your hair. The roll of his hips was slow so you could take in air, but every time he thrust in, he went all the way. At first you gagged some, but you learned his rhythm to compensate. You had to swallow several times, trying to deal with not only your drool but his precum.
"Shit, I'm gonna-" He gasped, pulling all the way out and pumping his hand on his cock. You kept your mouth open, tongue out, hoping to get a taste, all while panting desperately. You felt like a dog begging for a treat.
"(Y/N)~" Beomgyu moaned your name, and you sighed as the hot and sticky release painted you. He covered your face and upper chest, the feeling of the thick bead dripping over your breasts felt like it was burning. The few drops you got on your tongue were swiftly swallowed and he was panting some himself, admiring his work.
"Fuck, I wish I had condoms; I want to fuck your ass so bad~" He was practically whining, and the admission made you clench around the buzzing toy.
"Up." He didn't even have to lead you that time, you stood and bent over the table. He smiled, cooing out some praise, his cock in hand hardening back up. Even more so seeing your tight hole clenching around the buzzing silicone.
"Ready?" The younger man didn't wait for your answer before he was balls deep in your cunt.
"Shit!" You swore, your cunt already pulsing. It was odd having the toy in your ass and his cock in your pussy, but it was so incredibly good. Your whole body tingled, and your immediate thought went to how he might feel inside your ass instead. Just thinking of it made your head swim.
"Fuck, I don't know how tight your ass would be if your cunt's so tight!" His tongue ran over his top lip, beginning to fuck you in earnest. He didn't have great power behind his thrusts, but his technique was clearly there. The vibrations of the toy carried through the walls of your holes, and he could feel it buzz on his cock. He wondered how tight you would be with a cock in your ass as well. Preferably with a third dick in your mouth.
"Oh, noona!" He laughed, gasping a bit at the clench of your walls. Damn, did he wish he had a condom. His head was looping so much on the thought of fucking your other hole he didn't even realize you came around his cock and just plowed through it. Your moans had turned into yelps and whimpers, drool spilling from the side of your mouth.
"If you thought I had stamina swimming, huh, you ain't seen anything yet." Beomgyu promised. He could not only last a long time, but he could keep going over and over. You were already gone, fucked out, and he knew he still had at least three orgasms in him. After holding back from even just fucking his fist, since he met you, he could actually probably do more. Such a fucking shame he couldn't buy what he needed. That would be the only place he would rather fill up than add to layers of jizz on your skin. Better though not to make a mess.
"B-B-Beom! Gyu~" You nearly screamed as another orgasm rose. You had no idea how long he had been pounding into you.
"Shit!" He groaned himself and when he felt your walls clenching his cock again, he pulled out. Letting out a sigh, your skin lit on fire as he sprayed his release over your back and ass. There was a faint pink dusting on the skin there. Beads of cum rolled over your skin, down the outside and inside of your thighs, mixing with your own release and the lube he had slathered around your ass. As you both panted, you looked around the room, trying to get your bearings. It was then you noticed a plastic grocery bag sitting near it that you did not put there.
"Beom-" You pointed to it, recognizing the drug store logo. He panted but went over to it and groaned in excitement. Must have been Brandi, she was a fucking life saver. You had requested it from her the day before just in case, and she had followed through. There were two boxes, luckily one was the right size.
"Oh, fuck yeah." He pumped his fist and came back to you, smirking at the messy puddle on the floor between your feet.
"Come here." He was gentler that time and he carried most of your weight as he rolled you onto your back. The man smiled, ready to cover your front with his cum as well, but first…
"Breathe." He coached again and you whined as he eased the toy out, letting it fall to the floor. There was plenty of slick there, from the lube and your cunt, and the condoms were covered as well. He tore the box open, barely registering the toy losing battery where it lay.
"Can't fucking wait…" He mumbled something else, digging out a single condom and desperately unwrapping it to roll it onto his dick. He had instantly gotten hard again at the prospect of getting inside you.
"You want my cock in your ass, love?" He teased and let out a pleased groan when you nodded with a soft, "yes please." Beomgyu could even see your cunt clench as you replied. Realizing you needed a bit more prep, he grabbed the bottle again, slathered more on his fingers, and circled your rim again. You yelped as he slowly let two of his fingers in, much looser now from the toy. The vibrations had also numbed you some, and the stretch was just a little bracing. Your breathing picked up, your eyes closed to help concentration. You shivered at the third finger and pondered what his cock was going to feel like.
"Can't wait." He mumbled but was gentle taking his fingers from you. The sticky digits met your thigh as he used his hands to fold your legs up and out, giving him perfect sight and access to your pucker.
"Gyu~" You whined, and he laughed. All the air left you as he began to inch his cock inside. You were shivering so hard it was hard to believe it was still nearly eighty degrees in the shelter. It was still during the day, the sun causing somewhat of a greenhouse effect. The air conditioner in the back office wasn't strong enough to cool the whole inside down.
"Fuck, noona!" He panted, finally burying his cock into the hilt. He was right, you were so much tighter there, and hotter, even through the rubber. Your tremors calmed as you got used to him, trying so hard not to clench too hard. He was rubbing calming circles on the skin of your thighs, his own brow furrowed to hold back.
"Move." As soon as you allowed, he pulled slowly out just a few inches, then eased inside just as slowly.
"Fuck-" You keened, back arching at the feeling. Beomgyu led your legs to wrap around his waist and you giggled when his hands linked with yours and held them over your head.
"I…can't-" He grunted, and he started to batter his cock into you, luckily only pulling out half way each time. Still, his hard cock was carving into you over and over, the feeling was incredible. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he fell onto his forearms, whining some. You felt so fucking good around him. Plus, he got to ravage not just your mouth and cunt, but your ass as well. When he felt his orgasm coming back up, he gently pulled out as not to shock you. You whined and he pulled the condom off and fucked back into your cunt. You did scream that time and he nearly came inside as your walls squeezed and pulsed around him. More slick spilled from you and splattered to the floor. After a few thrusts, your orgasm died, so he pulled back out, stroking himself to completion. More hot and sticky fluid fell on your skin, this time on your lower stomach and even over your cunt. He was a bit worried when he saw you breathing so heavily but with your eyes closed. One leg had flopped down, the other still bent in the air and your arms still laid limp near your head.
"Noona?" he called.
"Gyu~" You mewled, and he sighed in relief. He stood at the end of the table, stroking your thighs since that was one of the few places not covered in his cum. As you came back to reality, your eyes opened and you looked at him, eyes widening when you saw that his cock was still hard.
"What the fuck are made of?" You chuckled and this made him laugh, a little bashful.
"You have to be done?" He sounded a little dejected, but you shook your head no.
"I just can't do the work." You giggled and he smiled.
"Don't worry." He was more than willing to help with that. You whined, sore as he helped you sit up. While he wanted to just pick you up, he wasn't confident in his strength. Instead, he helped you get off the table and to his next destination. You let him pull you down to the floor with him, a little confused. He had prepared something earlier it seemed, because there was a few towels on the ground and leaning against the wall…a mirror. It was normally near the door that led out to the snack bar, but he had moved it. Luckily, the spot allowed you both to sit right near the back-office door and get a full blast of the cold air. As he pulled you down, he made you sit on his lap, his cock standing proudly against your cunt. Your face bloomed red as you saw your reflection. You were…a mess, absolutely.
"B-Beomgyu!" Your back was still covered in his cum, though it was drying, but he didn't care.
"Here." He handed you a little package and you used the little bit of strength you still had to lift yourself a bit so you could roll the condom onto him again. You yelped when you fell back into him, his hands cupping your thighs again, spreading your legs up and over his own.
"You-" Your head fell to his shoulder when he lifted you up and started to press back into your ass.
"God!" You nearly cried as he filled you back up. You couldn't bring yourself to look in the mirror, but he soaked it in. Seeing you quivering as he split you open, fully on display and covered in his release…
"You're gonna make me crazy." He nuzzled your ear as his arms wrapped around your middle, one hand cupping your breast and the other rested on your lower stomach, dangerously close to your clit. Because you were nearly deadweight on him, he had to use more strength to thrust up into you, but the image before him filled him with energy. Your whimpers right in his ear spurred him on too and you could see the cocky smirk spread over his lips. He was already gorgeous, but that grin was incredibly sexy. From your other interactions with him you weren't expecting the confident dominance he was exuding. Taehyun made sense, but Beomgyu seemed to have a dominant streak as well. He absolutely loved how you took him, physically and mentally. He wanted to just hole up with you in his room and fuck you till you passed out. Till you couldn't think of anything but him, his tongue, his cock…
"(Y/N)-" His grunts in your ear were just as stimulating to you and another orgasm broke over you as his fingers tweaked your nipple. As you tightened around him again, he couldn't hold back, and he groaned into your shoulder as he filled the condom.
"You've been so good for me, lovely. Want me to fill you here?" he muttered in your ear, two of his fingers stroking your cunt.
"Yes~" You moaned softly, and he groaned as he pulled you off. He definitely only had one more in him. Beomgyu let you recover in his lap, kissing everywhere he could reach as he pulled the condom off. He tossed it over to where he left the toy, and he knew he was probably going to have to clean up as you rested. That was fine with him, if it were up to him, you would never do anything again but sleep in his bed as he took care of you. His ultimate dream was to have you live with him as he took care of your every need and let him fuck you as much as he wanted. Maybe one day…
"One more time, baby girl." The man lifted you once more, and he knew he would be rougher in your cunt. He buried to the hilt instantly, shifting to get a better position and started to jackhammer his cock up into you. He somehow was managing to fuck you more aggressively than before, or you were just that much more sensitive. His arms around you helped you ride him, but he knew your mind was gone. He could see it in the mirror, and you were babbling nonsense, the only thing he could pick out was a plea for him to cum inside.
"Don't worry, lovely. I'll do it." He assured, and brought you down, held you close, and came inside. Your eyes rolled back, another small orgasm twitching your muscles, both of your releases leaving another mess. Good thing Beomgyu told you to bring body wash because you were ruined. During the act you barely noticed, but you felt a little gross. Sweat, cum, your wetness, lube and saliva were not just all over you, but parts of him, the table, and the floor.
"You need more of a bath than a shower." Beomgyu realized and you grumbled in agreement. Could you even stand? He pulled his softening cock out of you and even more fluids painted your inner thighs. You laid back on the towels, panting and even his legs felt like jelly. You watched as he dashed into the back-office bathroom himself, the shower in there turning on. It seemed he rinsed off then came back out, getting his pants back on. You giggled as he tried to clean up quickly, but you told him to slow down.
"I need some time still." You smiled and he nodded, calming the frenzy. Once everything was done but the towel you were laying on and…well, you, he came back.
"Ready, lovely?" He brushed your hair from your face, then kissed your forehead at your hair line. You nodded and he helped you sit up and you groaned. You hoped you could even get to work the next day; you were already sore. Luckily, it was only a bit past noon, so you could get home and rest longer. Surprisingly, you could stand and even walk, albeit with a limp. You were sore in a whole new kind of way, and you complained about it as he giggled, leading you to the bathroom.
"Can you get the body wash in my bag?" you asked him, turning the water on. You let it get pretty hot before getting in and just stood under the spray. Beomgyu came back in, and you almost scolded him as he took his pants back off.
"Beom-"
"I just wanna help." He whined and you sighed, relenting. He proceeded to be incredibly sweet, almost didn't let you do anything, softly washing all of the mess from you.
"It's my fault anyway." Beomgyu insisted. He kept making jokes to get you to laugh thankfully, otherwise his hands all over you would have turned you both on. As you stepped out, he even had a fluffy towel prepared to wrap around you. He had a smaller one around his waist and he rested against the counter, hugging you to him, swaddled in the towel.
"You were so good for me." The younger man kissed your cheek, and you hummed in delight. Turning to face him more, he grinned like a goof as you rested on his chest and closed your eyes. He really wanted to just lay on the couch in the office and let you fall asleep on his chest. But it would be best for you to rest at home.
"I was going to have my roommate come get me but she's at work for another hour…" You glanced at your phone after getting your clothes back on.
"Oh?" He was taking the chance. With a smile, he pulled you onto him and you both took a little nap and he let you rest till she arrived. After getting you -half-asleep- to your car, he assured you he could get everything shut down. As everyone else left before, everything was pretty much handled, but he could do the last few tasks. When he left the pool, he couldn't hide his giant grin all the way back to his apartment.
-> Yeonjun <-
-> Taehyun <-
-> Soobin <-
-> Hueningkai <-
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acewritesfics · 3 months
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Take Me Home | Jay Halstead
⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS.
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Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Request: from @/andreahalstead24 for my 500 follower celebration over at @/dlmlufics.
Fic Type: Blurb
Prompt: "No one in this world, past, present or future, matters to me more than you do."
Warnings: None
Word Count: 642
JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP
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Jay was getting tired of Y/N’s sudden and unexplained cold shoulder. He wanted an explanation for why she seemed to be ignoring him, only speaking to him when she needed to.  
Unable to find her in the bullpen, he heads into the locker room finding her sitting on one of the benches, stuffing her clothes she had to get changed out of after getting blood all over them trying to prevent an innocent by stander in a shootout from bleeding out into her bag. 
“What’s going on with you?” Jay questions, a frown on his face, confusion and concern in his pretty blue eyes. 
“Nothing,” she says rolling her eyes as she stands up and moves back to her locker. 
“Have you forgotten how well I know you,” his voice comes out a little more aggressive than he intended, but she’s been beyond frustrating since this morning. 
“What about your ex? Or have you forgotten how well you know her,” she slams her locker shut and hooks her gun and badge on to her jeans.  
This morning Jay’s recent ex-girlfriend had come by District 21 as a witness in their latest case. Y/N, along with Jay, took her statement. Jay being oblivious to his ex's lingering stares, subtle flirty remarks and the hopeful look in her eyes, only added to Y/N's already sour mood from her car breaking down on the way to the station.  
“Is this what this whole cold shoulder thing is about?” he asks surprised by her remark but also relieved that she said more than five words to him that didn't involve their case. "My ex-girlfriend trying to be flirty with me?" 
Maybe he wasn't oblivious to it like she thought. Y/N doesn't say anything as she zips up her bag and slings it over her shoulder. She goes to walk past him when he stops her, gently grasping her arm and turning her back around to face him. 
"No one in this world, past, present or future, matters to me more than you do," he says softly as he raises a hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb making her look at him. "And I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. None of them matter anymore, especially her. You're it for me, baby." 
The look in Y/N's eyes softens as she listens to him, her arms move around his waist as she looks at him, seeing the love he holds for her. In his ex's defense, she didn't know about their relationship, and they couldn't exactly tell her while they were taking her witness statement. And he never flirted back, not giving her false hope that there was something still there between them. He had been nothing but professional and she had let her jealousy and insecurities raise their ugly heads, something that never happened often. Y/N knows she overreacted, and she deserves his frustration and to feel the guilt she's currently feeling. 
"I'm sorry for being horrible today. I don't know why I let her get under my skin. Women flirt with you a lot and it usually never bothers me," she apologizes placing a quick peck to his lips. "And I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else too." 
"Buy me dinner and I'll forgive you," he smiles moving his arms around her waist and pulls her closer.  
"How about I cook dinner and you can have me as dessert?" she suggests.  
"I may be tempted," he replies, looking like he's thinking about it.  
She smiles kissing him, "Take me home, Halstead." 
"You got it," he says letting her go and takes his hand in hers. "Also, women don't flirt with me a lot," he continues as they walk out of the locker room. 
"Have you looked in a mirror," she scoffs. "You're a beautiful man." 
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TAGGED:@mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please
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suzukiblu · 5 months
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Day twenty-nine of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.
Kon disassembles his sand castle back into the original pattern without looking, Tim experiences multiple internal crisises, and someone passes by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Tim, in self-defense, grabs a couple of the little crostini things on said tray and offers one to Kon, who looks pleased about it. 
“I dunno, does this count as a party?” Kon asks, glancing around with a little grin before popping his hors d'oeuvre into his mouth. Tim does the same, then remembers this means that now he knows what Kon’s mouth tastes like again. Dammit. 
Kon’s mouth currently tastes like ricotta and roasted grape, which isn’t even necessarily a taste that especially appeals to Tim, aside from the part where it’s how Kon’s mouth currently tastes. Why do people even roast grapes? Why is that even a thing? 
Why does Kon look so attractive in slightly smudged eyeliner he put on for him and clothes he bought him? Like–Kon always looks attractive, it’s an incredibly unfortunate curse on the world, reflexively checking out his ass in spandex literally did get Tim thrown off a roof once, but this attractive? This is several new layers of “attractive” and Kon is wearing all of them like a second skin. A very tight and fitted and well-tailored second skin, to be specific. One with cutouts and short-shorts involved. 
This metaphor may be getting away from him. 
“Technically I think so, though maybe not the usual kind,” Tim says. “I mean, it’s sort of a party, it’s just mostly an event. Maybe they want donations or something, I don’t know. Museums usually do.” 
He assumes that’s what the ticket money went to, or at least a fair chunk of it. They were pretty expensive tickets, considering, but since it’s an adults-only special event that isn't obviously themed in either a rogue-baiting or rogue-planned way he hadn't really questioned it. Getting overcharged by a probably-underfunded art museum isn't exactly enough to trot out his inner Bat or inner future supervillain for. 
Well, as long as nobody on staff annoys or insults Kon, anyway. Because in that case he will be financially destroying this place. Like, obviously. It's a little early to be planning his supervillain calling cards, but “you know what you did” is an increasingly tempting option. 
Anyway, that's just a contingency plan. Totally unnecessary as long as Kon has a good time. 
“What’s over there?” Kon asks, peering towards another station. Tim wonders why he’s asking, since he assumes he can feel it, though in retrospect “feeling” whatever it is doesn’t necessarily explain the purpose or point of whatever it is. 
“No idea,” Tim says. “Why, does it feel interesting?” 
“Um.” Kon . . . hesitates, then glances back to him, looking oddly–embarrassed, almost? Weird, Tim thinks, repressing a frown. “It’s, uh . . . kinda, I guess. I dunno. Wanna check it out?” 
“Sure,” Tim says, peering towards it. It looks like a series of boxes with holes in them all stacked on top of each other, though he can’t see what’s actually inside them–there’s curtains or something built into them. He’s not really sure what the whole setup’s supposed to be, honestly, but if Kon’s interested . . . 
They head over, and it turns out the whole setup is basically the same theory as those haunted houses where they make you stick your hand in a box full of peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti and tell you they’re eyeballs and brains, although Tim is hoping peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti won’t actually be involved. 
“So there’s literally zero surprises here for you, I’m guessing,” Tim says wryly. Kon looks sheepish. 
“We can go do something else,” he says. 
“I mean, I’ll be surprised,” Tim points out. “So up to you if you’re interested or not.” 
“Okay, point, I guess,” Kon says, laughing a little and rubbing his arm self-consciously. “I dunno.” 
“Tell me which one to try?” Tim suggests, smiling at him. Kon laughs again, ducking his head to hide a grin. That continues to not be as effective as he probably wants it to be, given their height difference, but Tim has no intention of pointing that out. He doesn’t want to make Kon more self-conscious, and also it’s fucking adorable. 
Bastard. 
“You sure about that?” Kon says, his grin turning sly as he glances back towards him. “You don’t know what’s in there, babe.” 
“I’m willing to live a little dangerously,” Tim replies with an easy shrug. Kon laughs again. 
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teases.
Tim quickly regrets letting Kon pick which boxes he should stick his hands in via trying said boxes, but also Kon just looks so fucking cute laughing at the different faces he makes for every one, so it’s hard to actually get annoyed about it. Also, Kon admittedly did warn him. 
Although he might’ve rather put up with the peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti, honestly.
Seriously. Those are some textures, ugh.
227 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
Hi bee, how are you? hope you're having a great week ❤
I was thinking about a Joel fic, they're in Jackson and reader lives in the house next to Joel's, they become friends and are feelings in between but they're to stubborn to confess.
Ellie is kinda dude just tell her and finally he does it with some dinner in his house or something like that.
Thank you, your fics are amazing 🥰
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AN | I love this so much! Joel being soft for his girl has me so <3
Combined with this prompt | Can I please request something with Joel where he’s like cold in front of others but he’s so soft with his girl. And Ellie absolutely teases him for it. 
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sexual Situations 
Word Count | 2.9k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"You're soft, you know," Joel stiffened at the sound of Ellie's comment. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, but decided not to indulge her. Not yet anyway, "for her."
"Ellie," his voice was careful, collected. So much for being any sort of subtle.
"I'm just saying," she holds up her hands innocently, playing as best as she could into her innocent child role, "and everybody knows."
“Nobody knows anything,” he insisted with a gentle, playful little tap to the side of her cheek, “y’all are always so nosey with everyone else’s business, makes me wonder what any of you ever get done.”
“Hey, I’m a kid, I’m not supposed to do anything,” she stuck her tongue but Joel’s hands settled on his hips as he gave her that look, “fine, I do some things.”
“Some things,” he twanged back at her, “like your chores, right? Which you should be doing right now, not harassing me, so get going.”
“You’re so stubborn,” she groaned, throwing her arms up in the arm, “and blind! Dude, just tell her!”
“Ain’t nothing to tell!” he called after her as she threw up her middle finger. If she would have looked back she would have seen the wicked, rosy blush that was covering his cheeks. His face felt warm enough to fry an egg on. 
He wondered if people were really that perceptive or if just she was. He hated the idea that he was being so obvious. It wasn’t that he wasn’t into you, oh no. Joel Miller was into you; the whole picturing a future together, picturing you in his bed when he was alone at night, growing old(er) with you, type of into you. 
He just had no clue if you felt the same. Even remotely so. And he wasn’t about to make a fuckin’ fool out of myself by making a move and potentially being wrong. The thing he hated most of all was the idea of a life without you. He’d rather keep you as a friend than lose you altogether. 
Joel huffed at him, feeling pathetic with how lovesick he sounded. He wasn’t some sort of teenage boy, he was a grown ass man.
“Hey cowboy,” okay. He was a pathetic lovesick grown ass man, “whatcha up to?”
“Nothing,” fucking hell. Joel’s voice pitched up about three octaves as he glanced over at you, standing in the backyard like a vision. He never knew he loved sundresses so much; not until the weather grew warm and you started wearing them. You and those pretty little dresses were going to be the death of him, “just working on a few things around the house.”
“Hmm,” you mused as you walked over, ghosting your fingers along the flowers that had started growing, “need a hand? I’m done with the things I needed to do today. The rest are a problem for future me.”
“I like your thinking,” he agreed, setting down the hammer he’d absentmindedly picked up to look like he was doing something, “let’s call it a day.”
“Want to head to the river?” Your suggestion was followed by a sugary sweet smile that made him want to take you in his arms and kiss you, “we can bring some lunch and have a little picnic.”
He wanted to have a little more than lunch. But that was a conversation for a different day.
“Sure,” he agreed, a vain attempt at nonchalance, but if you noticed, you didn’t give it away, “let me just get out of these dirty clothes first.”
“Need a hand with that?” you teased, feeling emboldened for whatever reason. The surprised look on his face as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water was worth it, “I’m just teasing, Joel. No need to look so panicked. You change and I’ll get some lunch together. Do you think Ellie would like to come?”
“No!” he insisted quickly before realizing his gaff. You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, “she’s busy with her chores this afternoon. Kid’s gotta earn her keep, you know?”
“Mhmm,” you reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “well, just meet me at mine when you’re done. Door will be unlocked as always.”
Joel watched wordlessly as you flounced away, skirt swishing and hips swaying. He was pretty sure he was almost drooling, but caught himself before anyone around seemed to notice. You were trouble; you were absolutely going to cause him to lose it. 
And god, he was so here for it.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You looked nervously around the kitchen, trying to figure out what you could throw together for a little picnic. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead - you hadn’t really expected him to say yes. Not that Joel had ever said no to you but still…one never knew. Maybe the dress was helping; you’d worn it purposely after all. Men practically became putty when they saw a woman in a sundress.
“Fuck,” you sighed to yourself, already mentally prepping the food as you grabbed the picnic basket out of the cupboard. You sang to yourself, “don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck this upppppp.”
You kept singing that mantra to yourself as you bounced around the kitchen and managed to whip up a lunch that wasn’t too shabby at all. By the time Joel made his way over to yours, you were flushed and breathless. His handsome face and lovely smile were almost too much for you. You felt like a victorian maiden in the presence of a man alone for the time.
Yikes. You really needed to get laid. Preferably by Joel, but that was a worry for another day.
“What’s got you smilin’ like that?” you could have sworn there was a knowing little smile on his face. 
“Nothing,”you. You weren’t about to just freely admit that yet, “just excited to get to spend some time in the sunshine with my best guy.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take his reaction, be it good or bad. 
“Come on,” he reached for the basket before you could even think about reaching for it, “let’s get going then, sweetheart.”
You warmed up under his saccharine gaze but let him take the basket nonetheless and followed after him. 
As the two of you walked towards the lake, on the outskirts of the ever expanding Jackson, a few people here and there stopped to say hello and, you know, do the whole chit-chat thing. You loved talking to people and totally soaked it up…meanwhile Joel was a totally different story. He didn’t dislike people, not unless they gave him a reason to, but he wasn’t a big talker or mingler.
You wouldn’t say he was cold to others (Ellie totally would), but he was absolutely soft for you. Even if you didn’t know it, you had that man wrapped around your finger. 
While he vehemently tried to avoid being stopped by anyone else, you looped your arm through his…and almost killed him in the process. You smelled sweet, not cloying so, but just right and your skin was dangerously soft. He should have gotten an award or something for how much self control he managed to exercise around you. 
Meanwhile, you were oblivious to the internal struggle he was currently experiencing, instead talking his ear off about something Gemma had said to Ben but then did with Kerrie. He wasn’t sure, he was only half listening, way too distracted by you.
When you got to the lake, you slipped your hand into the basket and pulled out the soft blanket that you’d had enough forethrough to bring. You tossed it under the shade from one of the trees so neither of you would get too hot from the direct sunlight. You sat down and patted the space next to you, watching as he set the basket down, his brows knitted together in what appeared to be deep thought.
It wasn’t all that deep; he was trying not to stare at your breasts or how good they looked in that dress, or how your legs looked particularly enticing. If you were to sum it all up, he was basically trying not to be a pubescent boy and pop a boner at the sight of you. 
Grown man he repeated to himself, you are a grown man.
“I don’t bite,” was it on purpose? Maybe, maybe not. But you liked the look of pure panic that his face morphed into, “unless you want me to.”
“Sweetheart-”
“C’mon,” you cut him off, enjoying this a little too much, “pull out some sandwiches because I’m starving!”
So was he. Just not for food. Well - you and food if he was being honest.
When he froze, you reached over him and pulled out the freshly cut fruit and sandwiches for each of you, handing it to him with an air of innocence. He gratefully accepted your offering, stuffing his face full before he could make too much of a fool of himself. 
And from there, as always, the two of you feel into easy conversation, about life, this, that, and everything in between. You liked that about him - things were always so easy, so right with Joel. In the time since he and Ellie had arrived in Jackson the winter before, Joel Miller had easily become your best friend…and all around favorite person. 
You wanted to tell him, really, but you were terrified of messing things up and losing him. It wasn’t worth the risk. Not yet anyway…and maybe never but yeah. Joel was it for you in so many ways.
"Berries," his smile lit up his entire face, effectively pulling you out of your little fantasy. You nodded as you watched him grab a ripe strawberry and pop into his mouth, "my favorites!"
"I know," ugh. How was this man adorable and dorky on top of everything else? It was unfair, "you told me."
"When? Like once in passing," he raised his eyebrows as you tried to play it off, "you remembered?"
"I remember a lot of things," you whispered, "especially about the people that mean most to me."
Joel was stunned, unable to think of the words to properly convey what he was feeling. He opted for a nod as he leaned against the tree, casting him in a golden, sunny light. 
You grabbed a few berries from the bowl and gave him a wink before lying down on the back, staring at the fluffy white clouds. 
The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate the lunch you had packed, growing full and warm.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
After a while, you came up with a brilliant plan. You sat up and looked around to make sure no one was nearby before standing back up.
"Swim with me," you said suddenly as you grinned at Joel. He remained silent as you started to push up your dress, brown eyes wide and his throat feeling thick. You shucked the dress off and tossed it by him, "Joel?"
"O-okay," he was trying not to lose his control as you stood there in front of him, only a bra and panties. You were so carefree, uninhibited, and wild that it was infectious. You tied up your hair before walking over to the water and motioned for him to hurry up, "are you sure you want to-"
You jumped into the water before he could say anything else, remaining below the water for a few moments to let your body adjust the temperature difference. When your lungs started to burn, you floated back up and broke through the surface. Joel was standing at the edge of the lake, hands on his lips as he watched, a lazy little smile on his face. 
“Water’s perfect,” you drew back your hand and splashed them gently, “come on in!”
You could see his hesitation and shook your head. You swam to the edge and held out your hand to him. He was weighing something in his mind, mulling over his decision before he eventually tugged off his boots and pants, kicked them to the side. It was a moment until he gathered up the courage to pull off his shirt - silly, he would say but you would argue otherwise - but he tossed into the pile of your clothing. 
“Handsome,” you cooed softly as his shoulders relaxed. And he was, you weren’t just trying to make him feel better. You could see the scars and marks littering his body along with the freckles you already planned on connected with your lips, and the muscle under the softness. You loved him - all of him, “alright?”
“Alright,” he agreed before sitting down and dangling his legs in and eventually slipping all the way into the water. You could tell he was up to something but your musing was quickly put to an end when you felt his hands on your hips, causing you to shriek in surprise. You heard him laughing as you pouted at him, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“You are a menace,” you turned around so you were facing him, settling your hands on his shoulders, “you, Joel Miller, are trouble.”
“Yeah?” he was practically vibrating under your touch as you tried to give him a somewhat serious expression. It fell flat, more of a sweet, innocent look, which made his heart even softer than he thought possible, “what about you then? What does that make you?”
“Sweet and innocent,” you grinned softly, “I’m a good girl.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Were you trying to kill him?
“Oh sweetheart,” he tried to keep it from sounding too much like a groan, “you are something else.”
You hummed in content as you closed your eyes and tilted your head towards the sun. You couldn’t have imagined a better day - but there was still one more thing you wanted to know that could make the day even better than anything else, “So, I was talking to Ellie…and she told me something interesting.”
“Ellie says a lot of things.” oh no. His heart was racing so quickly that he was afraid that he was going to pass out, “mostly nonsense.”
“I’m not so sure on that one,” you snorted in amusement, “do you wanna know what she told me?”
“I suppose you’re going to tell me regardless of what I say…”
“Of course,” you reached over and stroked his cheek, watching as a boyish grin grew on his face, “she told me that you like me. You know, like me like me.”
“And she said it just like that?” he asked, trying to his cool as you tried to read his expression. 
“She did actually,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “are you gonna tell me if its true or not? Or are ya gonna leave me guessing?”
“Do you really need me to tell you or do you already know the answer?” he was deflecting, trying to make sure he hadn’t read anything wrong.
“I’m pretty sure that you’re hopelessly and madly in love with me,” you were teasing - but only just. You both knew that much, “but a little bit of reassurance doesn’t hurt either.”
“I am,” he confirmed after a few moments of tranquil quietness passed between the two of you. Inside you were practically screaming and bursting with joy. When you didn’t didn’t say anything, he grew worried, “is that…are you…okay? You’re makin’ me nervous sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gave him the most dazzling smile. You paused for a moment before quietly exhaling, “oh! I’m in love with you too. If that wasn’t obvious….I thought it was, but I figured you’d want to hear it too.”
“I did,” he relaxed; every fiber of his being was humming with positive energy. Holy shit. You loved him. You were in love with him, “were you ever going to say anything?”
“Eventually,” you confessed, “but I kind of liked watching you squirm too. You look real cute when you blush, you know.”
“I do not,” he huffed indignantly, “I do not blush.”
“Whatever you say, love,” oh. He liked that sound of that, “are you going to kiss me or?”
“Do you want me to?” his eyes widened, “you want me to kiss you?”
“Very much so,” you agreed, “I would love it if you kissed me…finally.”
“Finally?” he asked, wondering if you’d wanted this for as long and as much as he had. The look on your face said it all.
“Finally.”
974 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 1 year
Text
Harmonious
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You may think you're a pawn in Bucky's life, but you are his queen. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, implied vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Nix gifted me with this beautiful edit and I decided to make it a prequel to Husband and Wife. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You weren't sure how you found yourself in Bucky's study, which would also be yours in time. The day passed by in a blur as you tried to remember when exactly you went into the warm, spacious room and shut the door. You weren’t sure why you chose that spot in particular to hide. As if you could escape from your fiance long enough to get peace.
Maybe some sick part of you wanted him to seek you out, which he did. Even if you tried to run, he’d hunt you down. He'd always find you. He’d win.
"Your move, Printsessa."
Bucky's voice beckoned you back to present as you realized he started the game. You stared at the chessboard, like it would provide answers to the questions about the future you didn't dare ask, before you lifted your gaze to the man you would soon marry. He chose to slick his hair back tonight, which drew your attention to his sharp blue eyes and well-groomed beard. The tuxedo, tailored to perfection, emphasized how large and imposing the member of the Bratva is.
Knowing personally how large Bucky is everywhere had your thighs rubbing together before you could stop yourself. Your traitorous body outweighed your heavy heart. One day they would be in harmony.
What’s so wrong with loving him? Why shouldn't I let him consume me?
You tore your gaze away to look at the chessboard again. He opened with the King's Gambit. Fitting since he lived like royalty. A ruler of everything he touched.
Including you.
So would you allow yourself to be his queen? To be by his side through everything? The ring on your finger may say you'd be his, but he wouldn't own you. Not yet.
In time.
Bucky would see to it.
"Do you remember what happened the last time I beat you at chess?" he asked as you slowly moved a piece.
"You put this ring on my finger," you told him, holding up your left hand.
And he spent the night ruining you with his mouth and cock.
"You almost beat me. It isn't often someone keeps me on my toes," he said, smirking when you wrinkled your nose. "It was a beautiful night. I won’t forget it."
You didn't need the reminder, but you refused to tell him that. How could you deny the beauty of it when he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you? Could you argue when he whispered how much he needed you by his side? The man had the world in the palm of his hand, but he needed you.
Why?
You hadn't done anything special to get his attention, but you had it all without asking. Even when you tried to close yourself off to him, he wiggled his way in. How did he do that?
"Am I just a game to you?" you asked suddenly as he made his next move.
"We're playing a game, but you are not a game to me."
"Why do I feel like a pawn then?"
Bucky appeared unphased, but you knew better. This was a man who would destroy anyone who looked at you the wrong way if you asked. To suggest that he was using you for anything was an insult.
"You're not a pawn in anything," he said fiercely, keeping his eyes on you as he brought his drink to his mouth and downed it in one gulp. "You're my queen, Solnyshko."
You ignored the flutter in your heart when he set the glass down and reached across the table with his metal hand to touch yours.
"And who said you're my king?" you whispered.
"You did when you said 'yes'," he told you, pulling his hand away so you could take your turn.
"I haven't said 'yes' yet," you retorted, knocking one of his pieces away with more force than necessary.
He snorted as he watched the pawn hit the carpet. "You're mine, Printsessa. Or did you forget?"
Your pussy clenched in interest at the thought of him reminding you, but your mind refused to let you give in.
At least, not right away.
"Like you'd ever let me forget," you said, pointing a finger at him. "It's your ring on my finger and your last name I'm taking. What are you taking of mine, besides my body?"
Bucky's eyes darkened a shade as he sat back in his leather chair. Goading him into a fight wouldn't do you any good, but he liked that you pushed. He craved both a worthy opponent and a partner in his life. You were the one he chose to let in.
But the man had many doors to open and you only had so many keys in your grasp.
"It's your heart I want," he said more to himself than you, but you caught the longing in his voice as he looked away.
You paused for a moment, his admission nearly bringing tears to your eyes. "I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if you didn't have it."
Despite the fact that he could bend the world to his will, he would never force you to be with him. There was still so much you didn't know about him though, like his past. You knew just enough to acknowledge that his family wouldn't be there. Not with his parents in the family cemetery.
Did he not trust you with his secrets or did not he not trust himself?
He didn't smile when he looked back at you, but his shoulders sagged in relief. "And I'm yours as much as you're mine."
Fighting him was a losing game. He defeated you the moment he decided he wanted you. What was it you were arguing about to begin with?
Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, yes, but he would never pose a threat to you.
You would always be in his care.
"Beat me and we can move the wedding up a week," you proposed as you resumed the game.
Bucky considered it with a grunt. The sound brought a smile to your face. No one else would dare tease him about his reactions to anything.
"Two weeks,” he suggested, licking his lips. “And we leave right for the honeymoon after the ceremony so I can fulfill my duty to you as your husband."
"We're having a reception," you stated, wrinkling your nose again to hide your growing arousal. "But we can move it up two weeks if you win."
"When I win," he corrected you with the utmost confidence.
"Just play," you grumbled as he chuckled.
Neither of you spoke for almost an hour as you concentrated on the game, but you stole glances at each other between moves. Why did he have to look so handsome in his tuxedo? Did he wear it just to have you lust after him? A taste of what your wedding day would bring?
He probably had the bowtie in his pocket to use around your wrists later.
"Checkmate."
You sighed, but nodded when he grinned triumphantly. He beat you fair and square. You should have seen that coming.
"Good game," you said, putting your hand out for his in a mock handshake. "You get to marry me two weeks sooner."
"It's a good thing I already prepared for that," he smirked as you raised an eyebrow, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it instead of shaking it. "Oh, I moved the date up this morning."
"You what?"
"I moved the wedding up," he said as you yanked your hand back. "Are you that surprised? I want you to be my wife sooner rather than later."
"Jackson. Buchanan. Barnes."
The cocky look on his face had you seeing red, but part of you also felt flattered that he couldn't wait to make you his wife.
I can't let him know how gone I am for him, fiance or not.
"Get on the table and I'll say I'm sorry."
It was your turn to smirk. "No."
The dangerous glint in his eyes as they raked over your body made your core throb.
"I can either apologize with my tongue or with my cock," he offered in a low voice. Possessiveness knew no bounds when it came to him. "Either way, you will get on that table and spread your legs so I can worship you."
Suppressing a shudder, you reached under your dress and slowly removed your wet panties. You surprised yourself by making it through the entire game. "Make me," you said, tossing the fabric into his lap.
If he wanted you so badly, he could work a little for it.
His hand shot out, the chess pieces scattering across the floor along with the board. You didn't flinch. Having the attention of one of the most powerful men in the world would make a lesser person crumble. But you weren't easy to break.
You are his equal.
"Is this a taste of what our honeymoon will be like?" you asked as he got to his feet.
"Not just our honeymoon. he rest of our lives," he said, moving around the table to tower over you. "There is no me without you, Solnyshko."
You didn't stop him as he gripped your arms and pulled you to your feet. You allowed him to devour your mouth with his before he put you on the table, careful not to hurt you. Those very hands of his destroyed his enemies, but he only brought you pleasure. He would give you a home. A future.
All you had to do was let him in.
"Show me why I'm making the right choice by marrying you," you challenged him as he shoved your dress up around your hips.
Bucky sank to his knees, digging his fingers into your flesh as he spread your legs. The man who bowed to no one else dropped down to service you. That was the kind of hold you had over him.
In your heart where you tried not to acknowledge it, he had the same hold over you.
"If the mess you make on my beard won't be enough to show you, I'll make sure to do it with my cock."
He laced his fingers with yours, anchoring you to him as he got started. Your king would take his queen tonight and many nights after. He would prove that you brought harmony to each other. And you wouldn't do a damn thing from this day forward to stop him.
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I love them. Can't wait to share more of their journey. Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
1K notes · View notes
madame-fear · 6 months
Note
may I request an lucerys velaryon x pregnant reader fic where she accidentally gets hurt? Angst to tons of fluff please!
*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 .ೃ࿐
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★ amira speaks! : Nonnie! Okay so i hope this was what you expected, since i am just learning how to write angst. Credits to a beloved nonnie who helped me think of an idea for this, and also credits to my sweetheart Emma @tchatso for the name idea! 💘 — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 1.6k
— pairing : lucerys velaryon x pregnant!wife!reader — genre : (slight) angst to fluff, hurt/comfort ig.
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The young Velaryon Prince anxiously stood outside the door of your chambers. His hand was raised to his lips as he walked in circles, anxiously gnawing his nails, awaiting for the maester to allow him inside.
Luke longed to just force his way inside your chambers, but your wishes were for Lucerys to stay outside as the maester checked your general wellbeing and that of the babe you carried knowing how extremely preoccupied he would be, and he respected your decision. Luke was very attentive to you even before you were pregnant with his child, and it went back to the times he merely courted you.
It was only a small incident; you tripped over a children’s toy that Lucerys’ youngest siblings had left tossed around the floor and you fell to the ground, spraining your ankle. It was indeed rather painful, as you were found in the floor by a maid when she heard you loudly complain in pain, but it could have been worse. Of course, Luke had yet no idea about the gravity of it, which had him concerned the most, overall.
“You should’ve stayed by her side,” he mentally repeated to himself, as if that thought dreadfully gnawed his mind. Of course, being the heir to Driftmark, he had duties and responsabilities to attend — but either way, Lucerys knew he should’ve insisted on staying by your side, as you were heavily pregnant, and he had promised to himself to protect you regardless everything else.
The thought of losing the first child he would have with you provoked him to feel grief in advance, even if Lucerys was still awaiting for the maester to come out and inform him of your and the babe’s health. Much like Luke, you yourself were concerned as well for whatever the trusted maester would tell you. You felt that, if you lost the child — despite having protected your stomach from your hands when falling —, it was your own fault. You were the one to be blamed at the outcome, if anything grave happened.
His walking in circles abruptly stopped, when the large doors of your chambers swung open, finally revealing the maester coming out to talk with him. The future Velaryon Lord’s hazel green eyes widened in surprise, expressing a burdening anxiety that weighed on him. He gulped as he approached the maester, as the old man briefly closed the door behind of him.
“How is she? Is she alright?” the young prince rapidly approached the maester, his hands fidgeted nervously with his fingers. A certain guilt intensified with the passing of seconds, and simultaneously, time passed ridiculously slow. The maester noticed his expression, and nodded his head softly. “I am satisfied to inform you, my Prince, the child and Lady (y/n) have suffered no serious harm.”
An extended sigh of relief escaped from Lucerys. A huge burden slipped away from his body smoothly, “But, she has only sprained her ankle. She will have to rest for a few days.” of course, it was only a small injury that you had suffered, and it caused no harm to the child – but worry still filled him quite intensely. “Lady (y/n) should keep her feet up for her ankle to heal faster, and drink healing herbs.” dumbfoundedly nodding, the young Prince mentally took note of the maester’s suggestions, but all he truly wanted was to see you.
“Understood, maester.” he replied, “Thank you very much.” with a single bow down with his head, the maester greeted the Prince, and walked away to give both of you some privacy. As soon as he left, Lucerys swiftly opened the large wooden door of your chambers, peeking to see you laying in bed with both your hands caressing your swollen stomach.
It was nearly impossible to fight back a large grin from growing at the corner of your lips, noticing that the ghastly expression of fright and concerned was still spread all across his face. It was as if you could already read his early thoughts, before the maester informed him you and your babe were alright.
“My love,” you greeted eagerly at the sight of him. The young Prince closed the door shut behind of him as he entered your chambers. “(y/n)!” he greeted back, feeling more at ease to see you were resting in bed, and overall, the injury wasn’t as bad as he supposed it would be. Quickly, he rushed towards you, sitting by your side at the edge of the bed. Both his arms — a bit too firmly — were wrapped around your body, pulling you closer to him. A small grunt spurred from your lips, giggling at his actions.
One of his hands was raised to cup your cheek, placing his lips on your other cheek to shower you with small pecks. “You have no idea how concerned I was for both of you, my love.” he mumbled in between the pecks; his thumb stroking your skin delicately. Your free hand went to the back of his head, interwining your fingers on his dark, messy hair. His love was a bit overwhelming, but in a good sense. You had no doubt that not only he was a proper, caring husband, but as well as an endearing father to your child.
One of his hands went to be placed on top of your own, the one that caressed your stomach. The stress of the situation still loomed over him, but this time, it wasn’t such a burden as it was before getting to stay by your side. His arms clinged protectively around your body, nuzzling his nose on your cheek in a tender manner. “I should have been there for you, I am very sorry, my love.”
A soft chuckle escaped from you, as your lips found your way to kiss the bridge of his nose affectionately. A dumbfounded grin formed on his rosy lips, fluttering his eyes shut at the feeling of your affection. “Well, if you had been there with me,” you began, brushing away some strands of his hair off his face. “What could have you possibly done about it?” raising an eyebrow, he scoffed. “Place away the toys, and you would have never stumbled upon them.” in his answer seemed to lurk a bit of disappointment at himself, but truly, he was just overreacting.
You rolled your eyes. “I would have stumbled upon them sooner or later, Luke.” your hand took his own, raising it to your lips, and placing a kiss on his palm. “Don’t overthink this. I doubt you could save me from my own clumsiness.” a small chuckle graced off him, going down to look at your pregnant stomach, tenderly stroking it.
“Perhaps I could never save you from your own clumsiness, but I could save you from the mess my siblings leave.”
This time, you released a loud guffawk, flinching your face in the process from the laugh. As he softly laughed with you, feeling a rosy tint creep on his cheeks, his green hazel eyes darted towards your sprained ankle. He realised, it simply laid still on the bed, not having anything to keep it up for the injury to heal faster.
Lucerys stood up, leaving your side, and beginning to rapidly miss the warmth of his body engulfing your own. “The maester informed me that you should keep your feet up, so your sprained ankle could heal faster.” his hands took the pillows Luke used to sleep next to you, and began gently slipping them under your injured ankle to raise it. A small grunt escaped deep from your throat as he helped you move your ankle on top of the pillows but the pain was bearable.
“And I will ask a maiden to prepare a tea for you. You have to rest, (y/n), and you have to take proper care of yourself!” you sighed, fighting back a toothy grin as he seemed to scold you — only out of concern — at how you seemed to not take in consideration what the maester informed you earlier. Lucerys was as attentive and caring as his mother was with you, and you found it to be adorable — yet, he was a bit exaggerated. “I will be fine, Luke. Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”
Without wasting anytime, he rapidly crawled to the bed, laying by your side. His body was against your own, sliding an arm behind your back to pull you closer. Softly, you rested your hesd on his shoulder, looking up at him in admiration as his hand timidly held your own, caressing your smooth skin. “It doesn’t look like it.” he replied playfully, making you snicker. But of course, you did appreciate how attentive he was.
Leaning closer to his face, you took his chin, kissing the corner of his lips, his upper lip, and then, pressed a quick smooch. His eyes were closed in the process, taking in all the affection you never failed to give him. His heart pounded against his chest, feeling almost like a little boy with a crush. Pride filled him, being satisfied with the family he was forming.
“I love you, my sweet dragon prince.” you mumbled, kissing his chin. Then, he pressed a long kiss to your forehead, only to let his cheek rest on top of your hair, inhaling that sweet scent of yours that you always carried.
“And I love you even more, my beloved.” he replied back, lifting your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Relief washed over him, never failing to be soothed by your warmth, and care. And this situation only reinforced, in a way, the already protectiveness he had around you, especially now that you carried his babe.
“What would I do without both of you?”
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months
Note
I’ve read through some of your old posts and I gotta say…I love me some angst. May I kindly, pretty please with a plastic cherry on top, ask for TADC gang with an S/O who abstracted a while back, but then they ‘respawn’ one day with a glitch affect about them, and their memory was totally wiped? Like it was their first day in the digital world? The glitch affect doesn’t hurt them or anyone like what happened to Ragetha and Pomni btw.
TADC cast x mended!reader
so funny story i was about to sit down and work on this about 4 hours ago but then my parents said they were going to watch the fnaf movie in the garage and i literally dropped everything and watched it so uh uh. the reason the grind stopped was because of fnaf movie and now im kinda tempted to pick up my fnaf fic again anyways! i did a similar post, here! jax and caines parts here will be short, really only focusing on the glitch aspect for them in this post, since the other half has already been written!
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CAINE:
just got flashed with an image but you know that scene where the iron giant is trying to pick the boy up but hes like limp or something and the giant pulls back (ive never watched iron giant i just know this clip from a meme) i think it would be like that if he tried to poof your glitching away; but like. in an emotional way, if that makes sense. like its the same kind of carefulness and worry, i think... bonus if he does more damage than not
JAX:
honestly a little too scared to even touch you out of the deep seeded fear of getting all glitchy as well. like he knows it wont spread to him, but you know...
POMNI:
similar to jax i think she would instinctively avoid touching you even though she knows its fine... the whole hand thing making her overly cautious for future scenarios, you know? i think she would slip up and accidentally bring up something you and her did before you abstracted, or call you an endearing name before abruptly stopping herself and trailing off, sad stuff. grief makes her tear between wanting to find an exit faster and trying to make you remember/stay for you
RAGATHA:
poor girl :( i think she would genuinely try to make an effort to re/befriend you and try not to have her hopes too high for the two of you to get back together. if you hear about your past relationship and want to learn more about it, shell tell you what you want to know, but i doubt she would instantly start dating you again if you suggest the two of you trying to give the relationship a second shot... i think that would need some time
KINGER:
bro is gonna be going through it, first he loses his possible wife to abstraction and now he lost you.. got you back, but you dont remember anything. on top of that you look.. off.. sure it doesnt hurt you but it still looks like it would be uncomfortable, even if it isnt
stuck between longing to rekindle your old relationship and letting you go in order to allow himself to process this grief; the third option is potential abstraction for himself
ZOOBLE:
tries not to care. they want to forget everything like you did, they were finally starting to be normal after your abstraction. but now your back in a clean slate, mind wiped and memories gone. how does someone cope with that? as much as it hurts them they think it would be best for them to pretend you were a stranger again
GANGLE:
saying it again, poor girl. mix of pomni and ragatha here i think, like she keeps messing up and verbally reminiscing before realizing you cant relate to what shes saying anymore. will tell you anything you want to know about the past, but i think it would take a lot longer for her to consider getting with you again than ragatha. for both its kind of a "i dont want them to feel obligated to try because we were together once" type deal
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Dirty Work 39
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: I slept a lot better so you get a touch longer chapter today.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You sit in the mud, mortified. You want desperately to leave but you don’t have the strength to do so. Your flight might be seen for exactly what it is; cowardice. You don’t have much but you have a sliver of dignity to you.
So you pretend. Just like those years you went to school and pretended everything was okay. That your father wasn’t awful and your house wasn’t dingy and smoky. All this time you’ve put your head down and obeyed Mr. Laufeyson as if you had no other purpose. You can do it.
You mimic Sif and stay reclined. You close your eyes and try to enjoy the soft harp music plucking from speakers. You should’ve gone with Frigga. A bit of sweat is better than stewing in dirt and shame.
Your mind races. How long is normal? When can you leave without giving away that doubt gnawing in your stomach? Why would you want to leave? So you can go back and face Mr. Laufeyson? What will you tell him? Do you tell him?
“Thank you, babe, marvelous,” Hela’s silky voice interrupts the din. You open your eyes and look over as her lithe figure slinks in like a cat, “where is she? Ah there you–”
Hela stops short as her eyes flick from you to Sif. The other woman remains silent, eyes closed as she is unbothered by the disturbance.
Hela sets down the glass on the ledge of the tub next to hers and swipes off her robe, handing it over to the attendant behind her. Her skin is rosy and damp already.
“Sif Sigmund,” Hela declares as she lowers herself into the mud bath, “what a coincidence.”
“Is it?” Sif opens a single eye, “what with Walpurgisnacht coming so quickly, you must be hard at work.”
“I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Nor I you,” Sif rebuffs, “I always thought you loathed it here.”
“Passing through,” Hela dismissed, “family.”
“And the help?” Sif suggests as she opens her other eye and looks at you.
Hela snickers, “the help?” She echoes, “some of us can be friends with other women, honey.”
“Friends?” Sif squints, “I never knew that to be a line with you.”
“Don’t be jealous, it looks awful on you,” Hela retorts.
“Jealous? You Odinsons always thought so highly of yourselves.”
“So highly you wanted to be one of us,” Hela snipes and lifts her glass, “babe, this is a spa, I’ve come here to relax, not argue with homewreckers.”
Sif’s lips press tightly. You gulp and peer between the women, confused. There’s animosity there which both reassures you and worries you. Despite Frigga’s praises, it doesn’t seem the gorgeous black-haired beauty left on the best foot. Or rather, this a show of how the Odinsons can be vengeful to those who do not fit into their pretty little picture.
Your eyes meet Sif and her thick brows slant. She scoffs and shakes her head.
“Not much of a home to wreck,” she mutters before she takes a sip.
You look away and resist the urge to drown yourself in the mud. Will she be attending Walpurgisnacht? Should you warn Laufeyson? Your chest racks at the thought. You don’t think he would take it as caution, he might even be upset at the mention of her.
Better to just keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.
You return to the Odinson abode less than refreshed. As Frigga and Hela glow, you feel a dark cloud around you. You keep thinking about that woman; Sif. Just the thought of her name makes you shrivel up. So tall and sleek and elegant. You don’t know why you care so much, you and Laufeyson have an arrangement, not a relationship.
As you pass through the front door, Frigga proclaims that she’ll have some iced tea and snacks put out on the veranda for the evening. You nod and wave your bag wordlessly, you’ll hang your dress upstairs and return.
You scurry up the staircase and slip through the double doors of the bedroom. You linger at the threshold, looking around. Something seems amiss. Something’s… different but you can’t place it.
You go to the wardrobe and hang the dress within, but itself. Your hand flutters over the sewn on silk flowers. It’s so pretty, you don’t know if you should even wear it. You’ll look like a child playing dressup. Maybe you should ask Laufeyson if you should even attend; you could stay in the kitchen and help like you did with Corissa.
You close the wardrobe and flit back out. Before you can reach the stairs, you hear a familiar thunderous timbre. You stop at the rolling voice.
“Father, I have been on my best behaviour. I don’t see why I shouldn’t have my reward…”
Your eyes round and you quickly press on. You shouldn’t be listening. That’s none of your business. Besides, the last thing you need is to run into Thor again. Especially alone.
Downstairs, you find the house desolate. You go into the kitchen and see the elder maid at the counter, stirring ice into a deep blue mixture. Gertrude, you remember. You give a measly hello and rush through to the veranda doors.
Hela is already sat, her head tilted up to the sun as her eyes are hidden beneath her big blocky sunglasses. She doesn’t flinch as you claim a seat of your own, nearly curling up in a ball atop it. He fans herself with her long fingers.
She sighs as Gertrude emerges to serve the iced tea, declaring it wild blueberry before retreating. You fidget but don’t move to pour a glass. You’re thirsty but too distracted to worry about your chalky tongue.
“Did you have a productive conversation with Sif?” Hela frightens you as she sits straight.
“Um, I didn’t say much,” you shrug.
“I wouldn’t think, but did she?”
You shake your head. She didn’t say much of anything. You suspect you aren’t worth her breath.
“Hm, nothing about my brother… brothers?”
“Well… she introduced herself and told me to send her regards to Mr. Laufeyson–”
“Oh, babe, don’t do that. Surely don’t,” she warns. “Ugh, what a pot stirrer she is.”
You frown. Of course you wouldn’t have carried that message. You couldn’t bring yourself to even say her name to Mr. Laufeyson. You’ve seen how his eyes darken when he hears it.
“Look, babe,” Hela plants an elbow on the armrest of her chair, “we should clear the air.”
You tweak your head to the side. What does she mean?
“I know I got carried away when we first met. We both did. I sense there is some tension left between us but we must move past it, yes? It was a bit of fun, nothing more. I can’t have you getting confused,” she flutters her fingers, “I see a pretty thing and I want to play with it but I’ll spare you the pain, you’ve enough bother with my brother. I have a rather short attention span.”
You blink, “oh…kay.”
“So we’re agreed, as fun as this would be, it’s simple to messy,” she smirks, “not that I mind a mess.”
You nod and reach for the pitcher to distract yourself. That day flashes in your mind; the clothes, the mimosas, her lips… you almost forgot it all in the whirlwind of the last few days. You think she may have too until that very moment.
“Darlings,” Frigga emerges in deep pink cotton, “oh, look at this, delicious.”
She sits and uses the tiny golden tongs to serve herself a plate of artisanal crackers then uses the knife to scrape on some of the soft cheese. You watch her, your stomach growling even as it turns. You’re too anxious to eat.
This whole thing is ripe to be a disaster. No, you will be the disaster.
You excuse yourself from the table. You need to lay down. You’ll retreat and hide until Mr. Laufeyson comes to find you. That’s all you can do. 
You’re cautious as you climb the stairs, almost wishing you’d ask for an escort. You listen for the same boisterous echo as before. It’s quiet. You let out a breath; no Thor. 
You let yourself through the double doors and close them firmly. You turn the lock and it schlocks into place. The house is so still and silent, it’s ominous. You blame your addled wits and the long day. You’re on edge after the chaos of it all and that to come.
You go to bed and sit. You hang your head and sigh. You rub your cheeks and slowly raise yourself up, looking around as you once more feel something is off. Your luggage… you left it against the wall, still unpacked, and now, it’s not there.
You stand and peer around, spinning. Where would it have gone? Did Gertrude or Frida, the maids take it? You go back to the wardrobe, it’s still empty. As you turn and near the dresser, a click makes you wince. You look at the doors, they remain locked and sealed.
The clearing of a throat draws you around to face the bathroom door. You hadn’t noticed before that it was closed. Now it’s open but still filled. Mr. Laufeyson surprises you as he wears only a robe and smirks at you. Has he been waiting?
“Mr. Laufeyson,” you titter as you mash your palms together. “I didn’t know you…”
He puts a finger to his lips to hush you, a coy smirk twisting his lips. He turns his hand and curls his fingertip, beckoning you across the room. Shakily, you pull your hands apart and march over to him. He backs up, opening the wide door with him to reveal the sparkling bathroom. You enter hesitantly, unsure, eyes scanning frantically.
You stand in the doorway as he backs up. Your eyes bounce around the space desperately and finally stop as you find your laptop, the laptop he provided you, open on the counter. You shift uncomfortably, a tide of confusion welling over.
“Mr. Laufeyson, what’s…”
He hushes you again, this time with a hiss. You snap your mouth shut and swallow your voice. You look at him, not in the face, but at his throat and how it constricts.
“Pet, you are such a diligent worker. I admire that about you,” he begins, his voice like the distant threat of a storm, “truly, you’d not be here if I didn’t. You’ve ever been so thorough.”
There’s a mocking lilt in his words. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, waiting for the truth. Waiting for the insults you know must dance on his tongue to escape.
“But I didn’t expect you to be so…exhaustive in your research,” he goes to the laptop and taps the space bar to wake up the screen. You frown as he waves you closer. 
As you step up, your heart clenches at the first noise. A man’s growl. You don’t understand until you see the screen clearly. You’d watched the video on mute but you know it by sight. That shower one he’d nearly caught you with before. You didn’t even think to erase your history.
“Pet,” he angles to you and touches your cheek. You flinch and hug yourself, “you are a naughty little minx, aren’t you?”
“Mr. Laufeyson,” your voice is hollow and quiet, “I didn’t… I was curious…”
“If you are so curious,” he lets his hand trail down our neck and along your shoulder, “well, you could always ask me.”
He grips your upper arm and pulls it from across your chest. He makes you face him as your heart batters your ribc age. You’re lightheaded as the colours of the screen move in your peripheral and the low volume tickles in your eardrums. You sway as Mr. Laufeyson holds onto your arms.
“Pet,” he drags his hands up and down your arms, “you needn’t be so shy. Didn’t we have a wonderful night?”
You bat your lashes and nod. It was nice but… you’re still not her. You’ll never be her. You’re just a thing to him. Like Hela said, ‘a pretty thing’ or ‘creature’, as Thor taunted, a ‘maid’.
“Well, pet, I’ve reviewed your research,” his hands move to the front of your blouse and he tugs on the fabric, “and come to my own conclusions.”
He yanks as you stand paralysed. You only raise your arms as you sense his frustration. You stare straight ahead, barely processing what’s happening as he undresses you. Your skirt falls down your legs as he traces its path with his touch. He rolls down your stocking and circles around you to unhook your bra.
He pauses as he dips his thumbs under the fabric of your panties and bow to growl along your crown. He rips them down and lets them drop to your feet. He wraps you up in his arms, groping your chest as he rocks you. You feel his arousal, his need. You wouldn’t think of it as desire; he doesn’t truly want you, he wants what he can do to you.
“Pet, why don’t you run us a shower,” he slithers against your ear.
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you eagerly escape his embrace as he lets you go.
You focus on the easy task. You go to the shower and slide back the glass door. You crank on the faucet, testing the water with your fingers until you have the right temperature. You are deliberate in each step, ignoring his movement behind you.
You squeak as he’s right against you again, his robe gone. He urges you into the show and slides the door shut in his stead. He holds you flush to him, an arm hooked around your middle as his other finds your chin. He turns your head as he leans his own around to meet your lips. His hard dick presses into your back as he groans into you.
His tongue delves deep into your mouth, his kiss sloppy and greedy. You let him do whatever he pleases, doing your best to play along. Your skin speckles with more than the heat of the shower as it reminds you of that video. 
What did he think when he discovered that? Why had he been nosing through your things anyhow? Well, they aren’t truly yours, they belong to him, just like you do. Just another possession among his collection.
His hands rove up and down your body, exploring it as the showerhead slakes you in hot water, furling your bodies in steaming. He feels along your stomach and down your pelvis. His fingers crawl down to your cunt and urges your feet apart with one of his. He rubs you until you gasp.
He pulls his mouth from yours as tiny wisps puff from your mouth. You shake at the buzzing thrum of his touch. You don’t want to feel but you feel everything. He’s stealing that from you. Using you any way he likes.
And you let him. That’s your job. That’s what you agreed to.
He shifts back, coolness filling the space between your bodies as his hand slips from your cunt. He grasps your thigh and lowers himself to his knees behind you. You let out a strangled noise as he grips your hips and leads you backwards.
“Put your hands on the wall, pet,” he demands.
Obedience. That’s your only skill. You take orders. You do what you’re told. You do what’s expected.
He trails his hand around the back of your leg as he bends you at an angle. He keeps his other hand firmly around your hip as he plays with you, swiping up and down your folds, poking and prodding and swirling. He stops along your entrance and you clench as he delves into you.
One finger he presses his thumb to your clit. He rocks his hand, quickly stirring your pleasure. Then another finger, the strain making you whimper. Your fingers curl against the tile and your thighs quake. He pushes into you, over and over, until you’re panting wildly.
As if he senses you teetering on the precipice, he pulls his fingers from you. You quiver as the emptiness tamps the rising swell. He edges you back further so you bend deeper, keeping your palms to the wall. His hand swerves back around the front of your leg and he glides between your folds once more.
Something tickles against your cunt from behind and suddenly a warmth mingles with your own heat. You squeal as you realises what he’s doing. He buries his face into you from behind, tilting your hips as he sloppily laps at you, replacing his fingers with his tongue. The coil in you twists back into place.
Oh god. It’s even better. You’ve never felt like this before. Hot and cold at the same time, shaky and willowy, unable to think as you’re swept away completely. You close your eyes, throwing your head back as you arch your spine, welcoming him.
He groans and growls as he drinks you up, pushing you closer and closer, fluttering his fingers against you between the flick of his tongue. Then, all once, he stops. You’re there, ready to take the plunge, ready to dive into the sheer pleasure coursing through you like a river, and he just stops?
“Say my name,” he nips your bottom, “say it when you cum.”
You gulp, “Loki..” you utter uncertainly.
His only assurance is him diving back into you. His tongue furiously flicks and swirls and laps and begs for more. You feel your slickness smearing across his lips, flowing onto his tongue, and that adds to the vibrant effect of his eager tending. You choke and gasp and let the rise overcome you.
“Lo… Lo…” you quake as your insides knot, “Lo…ki.” You puff and whine as it all erupts, “Loki!”
Your thighs tremble as he purrs through your orgasm. He delights in you pouring yourself into him, surrendering to him as you stand on your toes, leaning into the wall to keep yourself from collapsing. But he doesn’t stop. Not this time. Even as you're ready to scream and slap him away.
He keeps going. He keeps going even though you can’t bear it. He’ll keep going and you’ll let him. That’s the deal. Your body is his but your mind is your own. You’ll just do your best not to think too much.
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theoneeyedprince · 5 days
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Of Blood and Fire: XIII
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!OC
General warnings: Explicit/18+, targcest, darkish!Aemond, explicit language, sensual themes, suggestive and sexual content, miscommunication, denial of feelings, slow burn, possessive and obsessive behaviour, angst, smut, mentions of (childhood and sexual) trauma, religious guilt, complicated and toxic family dynamics, typical mediaeval and asoiaf sexism and misogyny, graphic depictions of violence, spoilers for Fire & Blood and future seasons of HOTD.
Word count: 7.4k
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From the author #1: A little request before we delve into the chapter. Please let me know what you think of it (and the fic in general), if you're kind enough. I see the likes and I'm happy you've been enjoying the current chapters but they don't tell me what got your attention or what made you wonder, etc. If you're not comfortable enough to leave a comment though, feel free to send an anon message, I'll gladly respond and would be happy to discuss this story with you. Posting a fic shouldn't be an unanswered monologue but a conversation. Hope you understand what writers mean by that <3
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The Red Keep welcomed her back with flecks of light from hanging here and there and servants occasionally passing through the corridors. Mostly walking down to their quarters or the kitchens.  
The place was quiet and it would raise hairs on her body if not for the goosebumps her skin was littered in already. 
Before departing from the Kingswood, Aemond left her with Seasmoke in order to take care of something. When he came back he gave her a neatly folded piece of paper. 
A map of one of Maegor’s hidden passageways, he explained, slender finger showing where she shall go if she wished to meet him in his chambers. 
As we ought to be discreet, it would be wiser for your flower knight not to hear us.
The implication of the nature of his invitation painted her cheeks and ears red and forced her heart into a wild run.  
Her gown was quickly thrown over her vanity chair as was her headpiece but the cape stayed on, covering the rest of the layers. Or as much as it could.  
Clothed in her chemise and kirtle, she could feel the natural coldness of the stone walls. Even with her stockings and slippers on the late evening air pricked her skin. 
It rattled her teeth too when she opened the secret door and for a moment she stared into the darkness until she remembered to pick up the candle from the floor and take out the map from the cloak’s inner pocket. 
Her steps were careful and she switched her gaze from her feet to forward almost frantically, daring not to look behind. It would only make her turn back.
Her journey felt like it lasted for hours but then there it was. A patch of stone that looked smoother than the rest of it, with a dragon's head engraved on the wood where she was meant to signal her arrival.
Barely her knuckles tapped against it for the third time, the wall revealed him. So quick he was to let her in, one could wonder if he didn’t stand directly behind it. Waiting.
“It took you some time to get here,” he commented.
Vaemma took the hood down, “I do not wander these tunnels often enough to know them by heart,”
“Often?” 
He was so close to her she could see the way his eyebrow quirked up. Smell the lavender in his hair. 
“Ever,” she emphasised.
Taking her chin between his fingers, he leaned into her face, “So you took a risk for me?”
Her mouth opened easily but before she allowed him to capture her lips, she decided to goad him on. 
To see how far the jealousy for his wife would go. 
“Try not to look so pleased, kepus. I might be here only to inform you of becoming the Lady of Riverrun,” (uncle)
Aemond’s expression fell. 
“A dragon eats fish, not mates with them,”
“But me and Seasmoke are so fond of water. Mayhaps the prospect of living in the Riverlands is not as dreary to us,”
Aemond guided her backwards to his bed with a sceptical look on his face. Perhaps Daemon was right and as much as she tried, her eyes revealed her true feelings. 
“Are you attempting to jest with me? Hmm, jorrāelagon mandianna?” (Dear niece)
She held onto his forearms as he grabbed her waist.
“I was told I am not good at that. So I would say no,”
“And I agree as it is not an amusing joke,”
It took him one swift pull at the knot under her throat for her cloak to drop at the foot of his wide bed. 
Large hands moved up and down her hips and her resolve crumbled. 
Too swiftly for her liking. 
Gods damn him. 
“Do not play with my temper like this,” he warned, squeezing the layers she was left in, vexed they stood in the way of doing so to the flesh hiding beneath.  
Vaemma couldn’t get enough of it. Of the way he held her. 
“And you with mine. I breathe fire too or have you forgotten?”
“I have not. You keep on reminding me,” 
He tapped his thumb on her bottom lip and pulled at it to show what he meant.
Vaemma flushed with embarrassment, “That was rather unbecoming of me, I admit,”
“No need to fret, ñuha amīvindiga,” he put a lock of her hair behind her ear and her heart fluttered. “Dragons tend to attack when provoked,” (my tormentress)
“Calling me one leads me to believe I can be considered your equal,”
Remaining quiet, he played with her thin silver strands. Gently lacing them with his fingers and letting them fall. 
When he looked into her eyes, his own moved in different directions as if searching for something. It wasn’t malicious, his face was surprisingly relaxed and the low light of the lit hearth and various candle stands of the chamber softened his sharp features. 
Vaemma desired to trace them slowly with her lips. 
As the urge to do just that grew stronger by the moment, she broke the silence. 
“A seadragon is still a dragon. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Aemond hummed. 
His attention on her was overwhelming. Most of all when he observed her in such a manner. 
Her head turned to the side taking in the interior of his chambers, recognising what she was familiar with and what was new. 
A silver tray caught her eye. A small thing standing next to the pair of white furs in front of the fire. Two goblets stood on it and a bowl of fruit. 
“Is that–”
He pushed her forward, three fingers at the small of her back guiding her and she almost tripped under her feet. 
From the burning this movement awoke within her rather than the surprise of it. 
Vaemma noticed various berries, grapes and nuts in the dish and that the wine had already been poured. 
Aemond took out a tiny blueberry, rolled it between his fingers and put it in his mouth.
Her eyes followed the way his lips moved. She reached out for the goblet, suddenly feeling thirsty. 
“Not poisoned, then?” She smirked from behind the cup’s rim. 
He huffed out a laugh, “Still not funny,”
“I would disagree on this one. I found it hilarious,”
He pinched her waist at that and grateful for not drinking the beverage yet for she could surely choke on it, she pushed away from him, sitting down on the furs not far away from his armchair. 
Aemond stood for a moment longer and the way he looked at her burned her skin, no doubt leaving a reddish visible mark on it. Then he walked to his settee and sat there, towering over her still.
Even in such an intimate setting, he tried to gain a semblance of control. Or dominance. 
Not so shockingly anymore, her body responded rather wantonly to her observation.   
And she had to force herself to focus on the flames and her drink once her eyes began wandering up his long legs. One crossed at the ankle, shielding her sight from the place her hand found itself around that one time. 
Taking a generous sip of the wine, her tongue darted slightly to clean her lips. She caught Aemond shifting above the plushness of his seat. 
“Arbour red,” he hummed and Vaemma met his eye. 
It matched the jeer in the corner of his mouth. 
“A fine choice,” she bit back. 
“Wouldn't you know,”
He kept on taunting her, she saw it in his eye, and as resistant as she wished to be, she couldn’t help the irritation building like a wave within her. 
Vaemma put the goblet back on the tray and straightened, hoping he’d see the fire of the hearth reflecting in her eyes. 
“Be frank, kepus. I am not here to play a game of guessing. Nor a game of frail insults,” (uncle)
Tapping his fingers against the settee’s armrest, he regarded her slowly but she didn’t let it make her submit or relent, despite the goosebumps erupting on her skin nor the fast beating of her heart. 
“Come,” he murmured, reaching out the other hand to her and like the flames he mesmerised her. 
Was it the way he said it or how his hand waited for her to take it that raised her from the floor and pulled towards him?
Before she could dwell on it, her fingers were cradled in his hand and he was taking her rings off one by one, leaving them all on the stone floors below the hearth, and returning to sit by her side.
“Your fingers were trembling,” he explained simply. No rude remark, no unkindness evident in the statement. 
Were he always to be so understanding and gentle with her, she would’ve offered her heart to him a long time ago. And with no remorse. 
She looked at her bare fingers and then at her rings. 
The light from the hearth illuminated in the gemstones and the gold of their bands.
“They have the tendency to do so…” she muttered. 
And conscious of how exposed she felt, her eyes closed but when she opened them again tears dropped on the back of her hand. 
Aemond’s touch was warm. 
Not in the way the fire made the chambers feel but some other kind. His caress was comforting. A treacherous comfort of the callused pad of his finger wiping away the salt from her skin and causing her to take in a quiet, shuddered breath. 
“Do you fear me, jorrāelagon mandianna?” (dear niece)
As reposeful as he sounded, there was an edge to that question. A kind of expectation.
She hesitated but for a moment, “In all truthfulness, I mostly fear what I feel for you than you,”
Her honesty shook him. She felt it in the tension of his hand on hers. 
Aemond looked at her intently, eye dropping from her fluttering eyelashes to her parted lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus his gaze on. 
Something, gods or desire, moved her body for her, pushing her closer to him, intertwining her tear-stained fingers with his. 
She was so close to him that she was able to hear him inhale sharply at the contact. 
His silence seemed to stretch for eternity, the anticipation tore her apart and when it began to close in on her, making her breathless, and her hand untangled from his, he stopped her, pulling her closer.
He shook his head, a silent almost unnoticeable plea, with his jaw tightened so hard she could see it poking from beneath his skin. 
“And yet you agreed to marry a man you say you hate. A matter of duty, would you reason?” 
She nodded, “It would make us the same. Me and you,” she appointed.
He hissed softly when her other hand moved up his torso, palm splaying wide where his heart laid underneath. 
As if her touch burned him. 
She wished her ire could do just that. But was it ire that made her hold onto him so gently? Or something softer? 
Something she got so scared of as it dawned on her. 
“Our mothers’ weapons of duty,” she continued, fingers digging lightly into the leather of his jerkin, “Each other’s torment…” 
At that, he pressed the inside of his free hand to the back of hers and she could swear she felt his heart thump wildly against it. 
“You are a dagger that twists within me,” he confessed through the trembling air. “Constant agony,” 
His eye was heavy. Long eyelashes moving languidly with the eyelid as if fighting to stay open. 
As if he couldn’t bear to look at her.
Vaemma swallowed slowly, the enormity of the words heard prompting her to make a confession of her own. 
“The pain I crave and the burning I long for. ‘Tis who you are to me,” 
His shoulders sagged when he breathed in deeply and his neck craned, close enough for their noses to touch. 
She felt the softness of his broad palm on her cheek to be better than any cushion she laid her head upon and to her bewilderment, she thought she wouldn’t mind trading the cotton for the texture of his skin to sleep on from now on. 
They both closed their eyes at the same time to the gentle movements of their fingers against their exposed skin. 
Her mouth opened but before she could say anything, he murmured into her lips. A habit of silencing her he seemed to grow used to. 
“You will be my ruin,” 
And with that he kissed her. Deep and slow like she had never been kissed before. Not by him most of all. And she wished he could do so for as long as the air in her lungs allowed. For she never knew when she could have him like this again. 
Almost tender. 
Almost fond. 
Almost loving.  
But all that turned to feverish want all too soon. With Aemond bending to grab her neck and back in order to slowly lay her down on the furs. His hold was so gentle in contrast to the wild hunger of his lips against hers. It didn’t go unnoticed by her, an involuntary smile meeting the curve of his lips as he kept on kissing her. 
And although he didn’t ask, she needed to tell him. 
Of how she saw him. Who she was warned of so many years ago. 
“You are my raging storm,” she held the side of his face where his scar wasn’t covered. Scared he’d push away if her fingers touched it. 
The reminder of the hate they should’ve felt for each other. 
The hate they promised would endure. 
“If I am your ruin, you will be mine too,” 
He nuzzled his face onto her palm, brushing his lips against it, soon trailing a brush line from her wrist up her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
Her mouth opened, allowing a sigh to come out of it when he reached the hollow junction of her shoulder and neck and another as the upright curve of his lips travelled up the side of it.
“How fortunate you’re a seadragon, ñuha amīvindiga,” he hummed. (my tormentress)
“And how good of you to remember,” she breathed out heavily, feeling his fingers hooking under the lacing of her bodice. 
Giving him more access, she arched her back but his fingers stopped moving. Crumpling the material to push her even closer to him. Her breasts flattened against his chest, spilling from within the confines of her kirtle.
He lowered his head and nipped at her sternum, making her throw her head back. One hand gripping firmly at his neck, the other holding onto the furs below them. 
A low groan vibrated through her skin. Sliding from his throat, through his lips to every part of her upper body and down below where she needed him the most. 
Her desperation was building slowly yet surely and amongst the mist, she didn’t realise the soft noises she was letting out and how they spurned Aemond on.
While he was leaving open mouth kisses and biting gently at the swells of her breasts, her hand massaged his scalp, pulling him in. Closer and closer as if she wanted to push him inside her chest. So he could lay his head on her aching heart. 
But he didn’t let her.
His hold on her back eased and she felt the soft welcome of the furs underneath her again but the weight of him above her didn’t lift, it only moved downwards and her fingers, which tangled in his hair, with him.
Vaemma felt his broad hands prying her legs open, wider so she could host him between them, and she didn’t protest.
Her eyes fluttered at the sight of the silver sea spilled between her thighs and the lone lavender eye looking up at her, his sharp cheek resting on the clothed inside of her thigh. 
“I wish to try something,” he declared. 
Her throat got dry, heart beating impossibly fast as she went through all the possibilities of what he meant to do. 
With one scenario, desired by her but hidden deep inside her wanton imagination, coming affront and her lips parted when he simpered, so darkly it matched the darkness that eclipsed the light colour of his eye. 
Intensively he kept his gaze on her as he pulled down her stockings, exposing her skin to him. She could feel his hands there, replacing the delicate material with their rough softness.   
His short nails scraped alongside her nude thigh and the harsh tickling send a shiver through her legs, straight to her core.
She'd bask in it if not for the tugness she registered. Right where the leather strap circled her calf.
“What are you–” she managed to utter but the question stuck in her throat.
It was dreadful, the view of him above her. Of him with her dagger in his fist. 
“Kepus?” (Uncle)
The instant fear turned her voice higher in pitch and pinned to the floor by his other hand, she couldn’t move. 
Was it truly happening? Was she such a fool? Was this how he could take her eye like she offered? Was she about to bleed like he did when her brother slashed that knife across his face?
Her hopelessness must’ve given him much pleasure for he lowered slowly, eye bored into hers and it was as wide open as the pair of hers.
“Please…” she begged. 
Her pride was laid in front of him but he tossed it aside, the silver tip grazing at the spot where his teeth did mere moments ago. 
“What a sight you are,” he murmured hoarsely, lowering the blade until it stopped at the side stitching of the kirtle. “Completely at my mercy. Begging,”
The material loosened as Aemond cut the lacing in half, doing the same to the other side, and when his daggerless hand palmed at her heaving breasts through her chemise, she shivered, feeling her nipples harden.
Her own hand blindly looked for the place where he might’ve left one of her most priceless possessions, while his touch burnt her. But he stopped her search, putting her hands up.
How pliant she was moments after she thought he meant to hurt her. What a dangerous thing desire was. How it made fools of people. How it made a fool of her. 
“Did you think I would scar you?” he asked, pulling the layer above her head.
And she let him throw it somewhere behind her. A piece of yet another gown she saw being made for her. But as she looked up at his kneeling silhouette, fully clothed, while she sat under him in just her undergarments, the thought dissolved into the warm, thick air. 
The hunger in his gaze wasn’t masked and it filled her with a different kind of fright. Anticipating, exciting, burning. 
He reached out towards her, cradling one of her breasts in his grasp and it caused both of them to let out noises of pleasure.
“You are to be my wife,” he stated, squeezing the round flesh for emphasis and Vaemma hissed loudly. “You are to be reverented now. As the gods say you should be. As I shall do,”
He pledged that promise with a kiss so attentive it felt like worship. 
The delicious warmth spilled inside her, and when he brushed the tips of his fingers against her nipple, it did out of her as well. 
It was too much. The rising and falling of what he brought out of her and despite him already knowing the warmth of her, a  slight embarrassment came to be evident in the deep pink colouring of her face. 
“Gevie,” he called her and with a studious eye on her awed expression and a hand attached to her heaving chest, he mirrored the path he took before he used her dagger against her. (Beautiful)
Aemond peppered swift, feather-like kisses to the outlines of her covered body. Its hills and valleys. The rough and soft edges. All she could do was sigh and sigh and then she gasped at the feeling of his lips just above the patch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs.
This felt unlike any other intimacy they showed each other. 
Near sacred. 
Mind dizzy and body drunk on the overwhelming sensations, she almost didn’t hear him until he clutched her bottocks, wrinkling the soft chemise in the process. 
“I wish to taste you,” 
A quiet, light sound of surprise left her. As if she didn’t imagine him doing exactly that before he took her dagger out. As if she didn’t imagine him kissing her there when she was alone and forced to peak on her own.   
His breath was hot against her centre as he waited for her permission. 
She nodded, yet he still didn’t move. 
“But first, tell me. Did you wait for me? Did you wish for me to come to your chambers as I did later when you told me to leave you be?” 
Her breathing hitched when his fingers glided through her soaked folds. Teasing her. Tormenting her. 
When he finally circled her little bud and she moaned in response, hips moving towards his hand, he cursed lowly in the language of their ancestors. 
All of it turned him impatient, “Tell me. I need to–”
“I did. I waited and my body ached,” she admitted. Anything to make him do more. To make her feel on fire. 
And that he did, throwing the linen over her stomach and burying his head between her thighs. 
A stifled moan left her and it’s as if she heard someone entirely different, not recognising herself at that moment. 
Her hands acted on their own accord, finding themselves in his hair again, pulling and letting it go with the movements of his tongue. Or it was her who was guiding him like a puppet on strings. 
Whoever was in charge, it didn’t matter. She never experienced anything like it and hoped it would last as long as the night was long. 
He kissed her cunt as he did her lips. Impetuously, demandingly and firely. 
And she revelled in it. 
In the way his harsh strokes drew a line from her entrance to her bud, circling it and then repeating the motion every time she bucked her hips into his face, asking to do it again. 
In the way he sucked on that tiny sensitive place and her folds, humming into the flesh as if it was giving him more satisfaction than it did her. 
Mayhaps it did, for when she supported herself on her forearms and dared to look down at him, his own hips were moving gently, grinding on the plush surface of the carpet. 
It was too much for her to witness yet she was hypnotised by it. The knowledge her pleasure was his too intensified what she already felt. 
She was floating. Floating above the waves of flames. 
“Do not dare stop,” she breathed out, words heavy on her tongue and then she stifled a surprised scream when his finger entered her, opening her for him. 
The lower part of his face shone with her wetness and her head moved to the side, lolling on her collarbone while she wished she had a pillow where she could hide her bashfulness from him. 
“No,” he commanded, hand moving her chin and forcing her to pin her gaze into him. “Ao daor ruaragon hen nyke,” (You cannot hide from me)
It felt familiar, the order and then she remembered. The flight, the chase, the first time his beauty struck her. 
His voice echoed in her head, flowing with the wind, blending with the low tone she just heard. 
She wouldn’t look away from him now, even if she wanted to. 
Aemond watched her intently, studying her reactions, committing every sound, every movement of her body to his memory. As if he planned to repeat everything in the future. 
And how she’d want him to. 
“How does it feel?” he rasped, sounding thirsted out, despite having just drunk her essence.
“Sȳz,” she sighed. (Good)
Aemond hummed, satisfied smirk adorning his face in an instant and then she arched, steadying herself flatly on her hands. 
As he added another finger, they crooked as they did in the castle corridor, nudging at the centre of her pleasure, but this time he brushed against it over and over again until not only her arms were shaking but her whole body too.  
With his hand holding her hip so she wouldn’t pull away from him, he kept her firmly on his fingers and against his tongue. Tongue which stroke her little bloom each time his fingers left her cunt wanting. 
Their rhythm didn't coincide, nor were his ministrations fluid but it was everything she wanted and needed. 
For him to touch her like that continuously as she headed towards her peak. 
So swiftly and so desperately. 
“More,” she pleaded and he answered with a rough squeeze to her bare buttock and pulled her even closer. 
She could feel him everywhere. In every part of her he came to revere. As he said he would. 
And with that thought and the final act of his worship, she fell apart with a silent scream, shaking on the furs and against his mouth. One so eager to drink her up even when she took in breaths to calm herself down. 
Aemond groaned, two hands gripping her waist together tighter than any gown she ever wore. 
“Enough,” she panted but he was stubborn.
“I need you to give me one more. Give me–” he chugged and bit the inside of her thigh.
Vaemma hissed and moved his head away from her sensitive centre by grabbing his hair, accidentally hooking up the strap of his eyepatch. 
His reaction was quick. She felt his hand on hers and his weight lifting off of her lower body. 
All of a sudden she felt cold.
“I did not mean– I– I’m sorry…” 
The sharpened offence in his eye disappeared with her apology and the kiss to her knuckles was his own. For the way he reacted or mayhaps even for using her dagger against her. 
She didn’t dare ask. The gesture abashing her more than what his lips just did to her. 
They looked at each other, searching for something in their eyes, not knowing exactly what but the silence rose around them, interrupted only by their heavy breathing and crackling of the burning wood.
Then he crawled above her, not bothered by the drying silkness on his chin or the reddened shyness in her cheeks. 
“Was this to your enjoyment, ñuha amīvindiga?” (my tormentress)
She nodded, biting into a smile that bent her lips. 
“I have wanted to do this since the welcoming banquet, you see,”
Vaemma remembered how she wanted him to take her as he promised her. How his absence brought her disappointment. To think she’d know of this blissful act sooner if not for whatever reason he refused it to her was a sinful crime, she judged. 
“Why haven’t you, then?”
“There was always something or someone keeping me away,” 
His lips brushed against hers and she hummed into them. 
“You included,” 
His eye seemed to glow and she realised he jested when he kissed her. A smile of his own against hers.
A newly formed spark of desire ignited within her at the taste of herself upon his lips. She licked his bottom lip and he groaned into hers. A sound she learned to mean his enjoyment and pleasure. 
Thus she did it again, to his upper lip this time and she felt his yet another response against her thigh.
Vaemma gently pushed him away and as she got up from the floor, she grasped her dagger at last.
Swiftly, taking advantage of Aemond’s confusion, she pressed the blade against his chest. A playful glint in her eyes, forcing a sneer onto his swollen lips.
So enticing, she thought. She ought to kiss them again. She desired so. 
“Apologise for scaring me,” she commanded, voice determined and unshaking. 
There must’ve been something in the way she confronted him that had him looking at her with his eye widening slightly. Barely noticeable yet it satisfied her all the same. 
He looked at her in this way before. When she entered his chambers for the first time and he vexed her so immensely, she poured her heart to him. About her father and the sorrow and pain regarding him. She defied him too, standing her ground regarding her loyalty to her family and to herself as a Velaryon. 
Not including the shameful, childish outburst in the library, it was the only time he saw her lose control of her emotions. But it seemed to content him even more than when she hid herself behind the veil of melancholic composure. 
Mayhaps in those moments he saw in her the fire that united their blood. 
The fire she’d desired to bathe in her whole life, while water seemed to drown her under each time, not letting her go from its current. 
But having him at the tip of her dagger couldn’t be controlled by it. His fire embraced her and she let it consume her. 
Vaemma pushed a bit further, “Do it, kepus. I deserve it,” (uncle)
He surprised her then, covering her hands with his and spearing himself on the weapon. Not enough to truly hurt him but enough to make her blood quicken with concern. 
“You have to mean it. Like your brother did,” 
He almost seethed it out. The reminder of who she was. Whose side she was on. Why he was in his right to torment her. 
She could only look at him. At the way he leaned into her, despite the dagger piercing his clothing. 
“But you don’t mean it. You didn’t in Vhagar’s lair when you put it against my throat. You don’t now. And I don’t think you’d kill me even if you tried, jorrāelagon mandianna” he said calmly. The term of endearment cooed wickedly. (dear niece)
And he waited. Waited for her to prove him wrong.  
But with a drop of the dagger, she couldn’t. Only he mattered. Not the acquired grudge, not the rivalry between him and her brothers, nor his aversion to the origins of her blood. 
Only him.
Climbing on his lap was easy. Terrifyingly so. As was unclasping the buckles on his chest, one by one, with hurried trembling fingers. 
He didn’t stop her, didn’t even hold her, simply complied. Breathing rapidly through his nose, ruffling the hair at the top of her head, while his chest moved under her hands. 
Slowly but surely she dragged the jerkin from his shoulders. It fell on the floor behind him, leaving him in a long-sleeved white linen shirt. Unconsciously, her fingers brushed up along the seam which started from the middle of his chest and ended at his collarbone. The simple ruffled collar was loosely knotted and when she stopped, unsure if he wished for her to untie it, he did it for her. 
She looked up at him then and her eyelashes fluttered, seeing his hooded eye and the shadow of his front teeth poking out of his barely opened mouth. 
It filled her equally with confidence and trepidation, that she had such an effect on him. That she wasn’t the only one engulfed by the intensity of it all. 
Carefully, he moved her from his thighs and he huffed out a silent, mild laugh, seeing her confusion. 
It didn’t last long, however. 
Kneeling in front of him, while he stripped himself down for her was an image she knew would be forever engraved to her memory. 
Aemond was lean, she knew it already but as he stood before her in his undergarment only, she could see what was always hidden behind the leather or linen. 
Beautiful, toned muscle and the light hair which matched the shiny strands she got used to thread her fingers through. 
Him mirroring her position caught her off guard as she was certain he would pick her up and throw her on his bed. Violently. As was his way of expressing his desire. 
From such closeness she was able to see the evident outline of his hardness more clearly and she swallowed, remembering the sensation of having him between her fingers. How she helped him reach his end and how warm the evidence of his peak was. 
“Can I make you feel good? As you did me? As we did in the cave?”
The question spilled from her tongue and she never felt to be so outright in expressing her needs. 
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes and it took him less than a moment to kiss her. Kiss her in the only way he could–bite and devour her raw.  As did she, following his suit. 
Her jaw hurt from the force with which he pushed her towards him but she didn’t mind it. 
How vehement they were with each other. 
How they delighted in the violence.
Caging her in his arms, Aemond refused to let her catch her breath and she had to pull at his hair again so that he would. 
The curtain of white silver closed her from the world around her, leaving her with a thought that if she could spend her days looking into the lavender of his eye or studying his face until she remembered every detail of it, she wouldn’t mind that at all. 
Her heart responded to it with pain. Its beating calling out to her mind for it all to stop but it took a step back and all the sense and reason left her when Aemond buried his face in the crook of her neck.
There was a sense of surrender coming from him and she wondered if he could sense her too giving in to whatever fell upon them. 
Vaemma held him and after a while of laying against each other, he took her hand and bent her fingers to circle around him. 
A breath left her as he began moving into her. With no undershirt in the way, she felt every ridge and vein and she found it fascinating how the feel of it resembled a cloth of velvet. 
His own breathing was uneven and more like a puff of a dragon than anything else she imagined him to sound like when taken over by passion.
It tickled her ear and she shifted underneath him, prompting him to lay a kiss under her ear and suck on her tender spot there.
As he did so, her hold of him tightened and her finger swiped over the tip of him. 
“Jaehossi,” he rasped, “Do it again, ñuha amīvindiga,” (Gods) (my tormentress)
She did as instructed and the pleaded out order made her light-headed from the given power she was able to execute over him. 
He answered to it as he’s done so far. Lowly in sound and hasty in movement. 
Who was at whose mercy now?, she wanted to taunt him.
Liquid dropped from him, aiding her in her task and curious, she looked down. 
The head of his member poked from her fist, revealing its dark pink shade to her, beads of pearlescent droplets oozing from it, matching the wetness of her own. 
Lewd, the want she just felt would be called. Want to taste him like he did her. But fearing he’d think her a whore if she voiced it out, she opted for something else. Less lecherous and mayhaps more expected. 
When she stopped, Aemond raised his head and a question formed in the line between his brow. 
“I also wish to try something,” she enunciated and rolled over him. 
He had to be too stunned by the change of positions to refuse it on time but by the look of it as she straddled his hips, her idea of something wasn’t that opposed to him. 
He was quick to hold her backside as was his mouth to hang open. 
She almost smiled at that but the ugly insecurity creeped slowly up her spine and she hesitated to move.
Vaemma felt her chest rising quickly as she tried to steady her breathing, her fingers unsure of how to hold his cock in the right way.
But then Aemond caressed her thighs, rubbing her chemise over her skin and she was glad that neither of them were completely bare. It provided a barrier, an illusion of protection, and means to loosen their nerves.
So, remembering the book her and her sisters read, she re-adjusted herself against his length and let his hard member stand free. 
They moaned in unison at the direct meeting of their heated skin and she had to balance herself on his chest. The feeling of his cock between her folds took her breath away, turning her heart into a beating drum. 
“Seven Hells,” Aemond cursed and Vaemma felt him move in tandem with her.
Her eyes squeezed shut. A dam formed against the tears of pleasure gathering in them. But not against the whimpers fleeing her mouth.
As hard as she bit into her bottom lip, she couldn’t remain quiet. Not when it felt that good to have him join her in her movements. 
“Kessa… Kessa,” she chanted each time the tip of him nudged against her sensitive bud. (Yes… Yes)
She heard him pant heavily, even grunt each time she raised her hips and grazed the top of his pillar.
After a while irritation forced her eyes to open when she felt her legs began to shake from the newly discovered exhaustion. 
“I’ve got you,” she heard him. All breathy and hungry. 
How unsatiated he was. 
How devastatingly beautiful in such a state. 
Aemond didn’t need to hear her answer. Would she tell him what she wanted, however, when she was floating outside of her body? Unable to say anything else but simple words of satisfaction.
His bruising grip elicited a whine from her and it was the only sound coming out of her mouth when he used her body as he liked it. 
And it seemed that he preferred to be pleasured just like that. Harshly and enough to leave a mark. 
She felt his thighs pushing against her lower back, like a backrest of an armchair and she dug her nails into one of them, while the other hand held onto her breast, threatening to fall out of the loose chemise. 
“Vok,” he praised her and she looked at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. So like him she must have looked like. (Perfect)
Utterly undone. 
It sent a rapturous current through her, from head to toes, and she shook atop him, voicing it out loudly, like she’d never done thus far. With a tear falling down her temple alongside her cry of pleasure.  
She felt like a heavy sack when Aemond placed her under him, gaining control  the moment she lost hers.  
Vaemma blinked at him and shuddered, feeling his cock glaze through her folds again. Forward and backwards, over and over in order to reach his peak. 
Trying to regain her focus, her hand wrapped itself around him but even then, even while murmuring praises into her ear, he didn’t let her see him. 
Head bent down to the side, long hair shielding him from her, she was only able to see his eyepatch and flaring nostrils as he throbbed in her hold and then stilled, painting her stomach white. 
Vaemma gasped softly. 
The feeling was foreign but not unpleasant and as she looked at it drying on her skin, her cheeks inflamed.
It was who she was with him. A rising flame. 
Aemond seemed to come back to himself slowly and only when she moved her hips to cover herself, did he finally look at her. 
Vaemma bit her lip when he dragged his manhood through her fingers. One, two, three times before he allowed her to let go of him.
They both did so reluctantly.
She saw his throat move before he licked his lips as if contemplating what to say. Vaemma never saw him nervous. It was like looking at a legendary beast in the westerosi wilderness. Unexpected yet so awe-inducing one couldn’t stop to marvel at it. 
“I couldn’t– It couldn’t happen, thus is why I did not–”
He cleared his throat and she saw him fighting with himself, legs ready to stand up and lead him out of his chambers.  
She knew it all too well. The overthinking of what she ought to say next and how it would be received. 
“Kepus,” she called out to him, softly, not to scare him off, and grazed her nails against his linen-clothed forearm. (Uncle)
Aemond looked at the tranquil movements and let himself be pulled to her. 
Insatiable she was. Grasping at every opportunity to feel his touch. To keep him close. 
“Tis alright. I understand,” 
Soothingly, her thumb circled his knuckles and she observed him watching the invisible pattern being drawn. 
“I did not need anything more from you. I–” 
It was her turn to shy away for a moment. 
What would he think if she let her desire guide her body wholly? Would he be disgusted if she took him into her mouth or would he admire her as he did when she sat atop of him?
“I only wished to reciprocate… What you just gave me was– It was wonderful,” 
Aemond’s kiss felt like gratitude. For what exactly, she could only pick her mind about. But once again it was deep and lasted for so long she was the one to break them apart. 
He hummed, tracing patterns on her cheek and she could swear on the old gods and the new that she never felt that close to anyone. 
That it was a revelation about her rageful uncle. The one walking hand in hand with hateful anger. The one who was self-righteous and prideful. The one who prayed to Vhagar, the goddess of vengeance. 
That was just yet another doom that’d follow her, she inferred. 
“I read about the act. Not one of the usual topics I study but it told me enough I needed to know,”
His hips moved forward and she felt him, all heavy and warm against her. The way she closed her eyes prompted him to do it again.
Distracted only partially, Vaemma took a deep breath before telling him of her own reading habits.
“Me, Baela and Rhaena read about it sometimes. The acts of carnal pleasure, that is. That was why I did… that,” 
“I see,”
Anxiety formed in her belly when his eye darted to her exposed skin. To her shivering body.
Vaemma covered herself quickly but when he hummed his protest and placed a hand on her stomach, she realised her insecurites were wrongly misplaced.
He had his own and he seemed to be as ashamed of them. Her uncle has simply perfected the art of hiding them behind the mask of a serious, scholarly warrior.
“Do not mind that. Truly,” she calmed him. “And besides. I know how fond you are of bastards,”
Her attempt at jesting was met with a lop-sided smile and her heart quickened at the deepened lines forming around the corners of his lifted mouth, fingers tracing them without any hesitation. 
She could try and decipher the look in his eye and why he laid into her touch, so outwardly seeking her comfort, but then the promise they made to each other would get broken. And she broke so many of them as of late. 
“We shall part before the owl hoots,” she reminded them both. 
Aemond nodded against her palm and it only made her want to stay with him for the whole night and break fast together in the morning.
When our house is united. Then we’ll have as many joint mornings as long as our lives will be.
When he asked her to at least stay to eat the food Deryl brought them, she let that friable hope root in her heart. For all that she knew, forgetting all the misery it brought her. And while Aemond venerated her over and over again that night with only the moon as the witness, she wished that just for once, the gods wouldn’t tear it out of her heart.
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From the author #2: Did you know that it was rather common for a betrothed couple to experiment sexually with each other during their courtship? Not sure how often that happened but they weren't as prudent in e.g. the Tudor times as we were led to believe. I found out about it on a Shakespearean podcast and it made me a bit relieved that, although the ASOIAF universe is suppoused to be set a bit earlier than the 16th century, Aemond and Vaemma experiencing sex with each other isn't that far off from what they did in real life, historically speaking lmao Hope you enjoyed this one because these angsty babies definitely did ;)
And a special shout out to @humanpurposes and her amazing one shot You Want This, You Need This. The passageway scene in it sparked some inspiration into the way I wrote the one in this chapter. Love you Gee. Everyone should be obsessed with your writing as much as I am!
AO3 / SERIES MOODBOARD / SERIES PLAYLIST
Dividers by @dingusfreakhxrrington
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