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wanda-widow · 1 month

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Dirty Little Secret

Bucky x Pole Dancer!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Bucky's a sweetheart, but like everyone else, he's also got something to hide. And no one would expect the famed White Wolf to spend his evening as a strip club with a pretty thing he calls his.

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, jealous Bucky, oral (f receiving), light threat, choking kink, swearing, pussy slapping (once), light/no aftercare, light fluff near the end, no use of (Y/N)

Like and reblog if you want, thank you sm for the love on my last post <3

Everyone's taken Bucky as a gentleman, especially after the takedown of the Flag Smashers. His reputation's free of red, amends made, the biggest sweetheart. The biggest sweetheart with the dirtiest secret.

Over 70 years with no sex has got him pent up, needing release. Sure, his fist can get him off but it doesn't compare to the feeling of a warm body under his. It doesn't matter if he's giving or receiving the pleasure, he just needs sex in any form.

There's a small but well known strip club located in the heart of Brooklyn, Bucky's favorite place on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, along with weekends. His pocket is always well loaded with cash, especially with the money the government is funding him as an apology for what HYDRA put him through.

But that's in the past and you, you are the present and future. You, who works Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, along with weekends. His favorite dancer and his favorite hookup.

This Friday night is no different as he steps foot in the pounding club, eyes scanning the sweaty crowd until they land on you, just finishing your routine on stage. You're dressed in a skimpy red piece that barely leaves anything to the imagination, knee high heels adding to the appeal. His eyes rake over your body, darkening at the various bills stuffed wherever the hands could reach. Bills that should be his. Hands that should be his.

You can practically feel his glare, eyes flitting up to meet his, calculating his expression. With a barely perceptible jerk of his head, you already know to follow him to one of the private rooms. Quickly blowing your kisses, you hurry off stage just in time to see Bucky slap a couple bills into someone's hand before they let him into the dim room, leaving the door open for you.

The moment you step foot in the room, the door slams shut behind you and you can feel him behind you, radiating anger and something else. Jealousy.

"I thought I told you to wait for me" he growled into your ear, vibranium fist clenching against the wall. His other hand comes to rest on your waist, a mockery of affection before whatever comes next.

"I did but you didn't come on time" you shrugged, the excuse sounding lame to even you. "I needed the money, you know that"

"I said I would pay you extra for your time" he retorted, plucking the bills out from your bra one by one before tossing them somewhere in the room. You barely get the chance to open your mouth to respond when you feel a cold metal hand spin you around and wrap around your throat, just barely applying pressure.

"Since you didn't wait, I don't see a point in paying you extra" he breathed out, thumb sliding up to tilt your chin up, his lips ghosting over yours. His arousal is evident against your thigh, your body shifting instinctively so he's nestled right against your core.

"I'll give you better service for more money" you offered, already sinking to your knees for him. Truth is, if you didn't need the money so desperately, you'd do anything for free for this man.

Bucky almost caved but shook his head, tugging you back up. "I don't have time" he muttered, frustrated as he checked his watch before spotting the loveseat in the corner of the room. Leading you there, he tugged you into his lap, lips meeting your eagerly as you melted into his hold. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip before you parted your lips, tongues sliding deliciously.

You were already grinding against him on instinct when he gripped your hips to stop you.

"Get on your back" he muttered, already doing the act for you as he flipped your positions and then settled on the floor to be face to face with your soaked panties.

"Already so wet for me... or is this from all those other men giving you money, hm? You don't need anything from me anymore, might as well make this our last session" he taunted, his metal hand sliding up your thigh teasingly, goosebumps following in his trail.

"No, no... no, no just you. Only you get me soaked" you whined, missing the way he smirked at your desperate words.

He let out a hum before carefully sliding your panties down your legs, tucking them in his back pocket as he spread your thighs wider. You clenched around nothing in anticipation, letting out a quiet gasp when he ran a finger up your slit, gathering your slick.

"So pretty..." he murmured, glancing at you as he kissed up your inner thighs. "So perfect"

You squirmed, almost about to beg for him to touch you when he ran his tongue through your folds, a moan tumbling past your lips as your hips canted up.

"Such a pretty pussy for a pretty girl" he smirked, tongue doing circles on your clit before he took it between his lips and sucked lightly.

"B-Bucky- ah... need more..." you moaned, fingers fisting in his hair, lips set into a pout.

"I don't think you deserve it" he chided, his flesh hand sliding under your back to pull you closer to him. "You're lucky I'm fond of you"

He slipped two metal fingers into you, curling them so they hit your sweet spot that he knew so well. His tongue worked quickly over your clit, flicking back and forth, his fingers pumping with the obscene shlick shlick shlick, already building you towards your orgasm.

"Are you gonna wait for me tomorrow instead of throwing yourself on stage for the world to see?" he asked, purposely slowing his fingers as you whined from the fading pleasure. His thumb pressed down on your clit, your hips bucking up into the pressure.

"Yes, yes I'll wait for you" you cried out when his flesh hand came down on your clit.

"Good girl" he growled before his mouth attached back onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers slipped back into your pussy, curling and pumping eagerly, your walls starting to flutter around him from the building pleasure.

One last swipe of his tongue on your clit had you unraveling, his eyes watching as your back arched off the couch, legs shaking and clamping around his head as his fingers worked you through your high. The cries of his name falling from your lips mixed in with curses and moans were heavenly. He tucked the sounds away to memory, his cock throbbing against his jeans but he could take care of that problem later.

He drew gentle circles on your clit, huffing softly when your body jerked in response to the overstimulation. You felt a couple bills flutter down onto your flushed skin, not bothering to count them when you felt him lean down next to your ear.

"If you're really worried about money, just tell me. I can cover it, doll" he said softly, brushing some hair out of your face before leaving a quick kiss on your lips.

You nodded, shifting so that you were sitting up on the couch, noticing that the bills littering your skin were hundreds.

"If you forget our agreement tomorrow, consider your orgasms also forgotten" he said casually before the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you dazed and always, always wanting more.

Part 2

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luveline · 8 months

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I LOVE YOUR WRITING IT'S SO ASDFJKFTICDHBDIGDGXSJOHCBCFG

so I wanted to request Sirius x reader where the reader is on veritaserum and has a banter/ tongue in cheek sorta relationship with Sirius. And then when she's on the truth serum she has to hold back witty comebacks because when she opens her mouth all she keeps saying is how disgustingly cute Sirius looks when he smiles, and how she just wants to snog his face off PLEASE IF YOU CAN 👉👈 🥺

REMINDER: YOU'RE AMAZING AND I'M HAPPY AND PROUD OF YOUR SERVICE TO THE FANFIC COMMUNITY

thank you ♡ —you can't hide the truth from sirius, and he doesn't want to try. 1.3k

cw spiked drink

"Why would someone put veritaserum in the pimms?" you ask James meekly.

"Shortcake, I'm really not sure. Don't get upset about it, alright? Remus is going to tear them all a new one." He squeezes you by the shoulders. "Don't worry, Jamie's here."

"You're very handsome, but I don't fancy you. Much."

James smiles. "Good to know, lovely. I don't fancy you much either. I'll assume you're saving yourself for our mutual dark-haired friend and I shan't be offended."

You slap a hand over your mouth and shake your head, but the truth comes out muffled into your palm anyways. "I really like him," you say, eyes wide with terror, "I don't want anyone else. Oh, James! You're such a dick!"

"Do you mean that, or are you just angry with me?" James asks, helping you out into the garden away from the party and your peers, who can't be trusted to leave you alone when you're set to tell them any secret they want.

"Both!"

"What's wrong?" Sirius asks.

Your neck almost snaps as you look up. James swears, trying to save it as your body instinctively answers. "Someone's spiked our girl," James says extremely loudly to mask your more honest confession, "I'm worried I'm going to tell you I like you," you say.

Sirius, sitting on a low garden wall with a packet of cigarettes in his hand, is puzzled. "What?"

"Someone's put veritaserum in her drink. Maybe in the pitcher. I've brought her outside so she doesn't accidentally tell everyone she's in love with me."

Sirius grins. "Don't be daft, Prongs, she's clearly team Black. Aren't you, sweetheart?"

"You're the prettiest of your trio," you say, sincerity like a blade at the back of your throat, aching, "I'm definitely on your team."

James squeezes your shoulder and helps you into a garden chair, the metal cool against your back. "I'll forgive you because I know you can't help it, and because I know you're dying of embarrassment," he murmurs.

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too, shortcake," James says easily, kicking out a chair for Sirius and flopping into his beside you. "Aren't feeling ill, are you?"

"Just terrified I'll say something too honest," you say, holding your breath between words.

Sirius sits in the chair that's been kicked out for him with a cigarette held between his lips, unlit. He lift a his hips to pull a lighter from his back pocket and you flush with heat at the motion, wondering if you're a pervert for looking, for thinking, but lately your flirty banter has your heart doing front flips, and every time you see him you're zoning in on his hands, his arms, the slip of skin at his navel when he stretches, the low sound he makes when something pops.

"Stop ogling me," he says without looking from his cigarette, the end glowing orange in the flame of his clipper.

"I don't mean to," you say.

James shifts uncomfortably. Everyone knows you like Sirius, maybe even Sirius, but he hasn't said a thing about it and you've stopped yourself (so far) from telling him. Any truth has been said under the guise of a joke.

Sirius takes a short drag and holds the cigarette out and away from you, smoke curling in the cold autumnal night. "Shall I go help defend your honour? I assume that's where Remus is. Being spiked isn't funny."

"I'd like it if you stayed here," you say.

James laughs. Sirius leans forward a touch. "Then I'll stay here. Do you need something to drink?"

"My mouth is really dry," you say.

Sirius sends a saccharine smile James' way. It's the look of an older brother used to getting his way, to which James sighs and grumbles, standing from his chair, "Don't ask her anything cruel," he says severely, kissing the top of your head quickly. "I'm serious."

"I won't. I quite like her, in case you forgot. I've no interest in torturing her."

You believe him. James departs with a pat, leaving you and Sirius alone at the garden table, still but for the little motion he does every now and then to fleck ash onto the floor.

"You sure you're okay?" Sirius asks.

"I feel fine. Warm, but that's probably because you're smiling at me."

He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe we should talk about something else. I really don't want to ask you anything too personal while you can't keep a secret. James gave me veritaserum once, when we were kids."

"He did?" you ask.

"Too much of it. I was sick, and I couldn't stop telling him how much I wished we were real brothers. Which he knows now, but at the time it was, you know, very sincere."

"You and James are real brothers," you say.

"I'm glad you can say that. It must be true," he says. "I'm lucky, even if he has tried to poison me."

"James is lucky too. We all are."

"Yeah?" he asks. He's about to continue, but your mouth does the choosing for you, and you cut him off.

"I love knowing you, Sirius, I feel lucky to be your friend, and I–" You bite your tongue hard enough for tears to catch in your eyes immediately.

Sirius' blasé fades, falls away slowly, like a moving cloud unveiling a slice of light, "Don't hurt yourself," he says, alarmed at your wincing. He drops his cigarette and smashes it with his heel, shuffling his chair closer to yours.

"I just don't want to tell you something," you say, shaking your head.

Sirius touches your hand. "Okay, I won't ask you any more questions. I'm sorry. Everyone's allowed their secrets, lovely, I didn't mean to make you answer me. I thought it would be easier to skirt around the issue."

But it's a big feeling, and it's in everything you do. You really, really like him. If you can't be honest about that, maybe you can be honest about something else..

There's no shame in finding a handsome man handsome. And maybe you can convince him that that's all it is. "I just want to kiss you stupid, Black," you say, "like, kiss you until I can't feel my mouth anymore. You look like you know how to really kiss someone."

Sirius laughs suddenly, startled. "I want to kiss you stupid, doll. You're a fucking dime piece," he says through laughter, "and that's the truth."

"You look really nice when you laugh," you further, wondering if this is the wrong thing to do.

"You look beautiful when you laugh," he says.

"Joking with you about stuff is the best part of my week."

"It's the best part of mine. I wish we saw each other more often," he says.

"Did you drink the pimms, too?" you ask.

"No. I'm stone cold sober, sweetheart." Sirius looks behind you and you follow his gaze to the patio doors, where James and Remus are arguing good-naturedly, a tall pint glass filled literally to the rim with water in James' hand.

"Has he left you alone?" Remus asks, quick down the short step to defend you. "I love you, Sirius, but I don't trust you to not ask her embarrassing questions."

"I'm starting to get offended. No, she hasn't told me anything embarrassing. Only that she wants to snog my lips off, but I knew that already." Sirius smiles at you dopily while his friends seize up. "And that's hardly embarrassing, because I want to do it to her first."

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black #luveline's 40k party

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thefantasyden · 3 months

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Burst Your Bubble

Pairing: Chris Bang x F Reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

Warnings: Phone sex, swearing, dirty talk

Word Count: 2881

Summary: Chris never meant to use bubble for something like this, but he could never get you out of his head.

(This is shamelessly self indulgent)

He knew it was wrong. He had known it was wrong from the second he hit send.

Well, really, he had known it was wrong the second he saved the link to your instagram.

It was honest curiosity at first. A random bubble subscriber sending him their instagram username, the messaged that followed suit reading "omg let's be moots bae 💅🏻" had very obviously been meant for comedic effect.

Something about it just piqued his interest. It was practically autopilot when he typed the username into the search bar of his browser, carefully switching to his private account before clicking on your profile.

It would be a complete lie if he said he hasn't been hooked since. You were stunning, with the kind of smile that stirred something deep in his stomach that he didn't even know he was able to feel anymore and was so much better when you messaged him in a way that could have easily convinced anyone reading that you had been friends for years.

It didn't take long for him to find himself actively searching for your response to his bubble messages, checking your instagram profile almost daily out of fear of missing an update. He's sure he hasn't missed sending a single "how was your day?" Message since he took interest in you, though he'd deny that they were for you every time Felix taunted him about his secret obsession.

When you weren't sending him random updates about your day, your messages were a toss up between flirtatious or dramatic, merging into a healthy combination of "I would actually suffocate you" and "I will beg for you right now I swear" when he teased spoilers for upcoming projects.

He tries to convince himself that it's completely innocent when he finds himself on the app at 11pm, his text far more suggestive than anyone could deem necessary (even for him). He swears it was just meant to be another day of teasing Stay. His eagerly sent messages absolutely were not holding a tiny glimmer of hope that you might see them and flush red at his words.

He hadn't expected to find himself quite so worked up at the time he started his seemingly solo conversation, unable to stop the tension from building in his body as he read through the replies. Something about the effect he had on people had a way of sending his blood rushing rapidly away from his brain.

Endless filthy thoughts were swirling in his head, their intensity amplified beyond salvation the second his eyes locked on your response to his the shirtless picture he had sent of him 'resting' in bed, your phone number written clear as day alongside "come fall in love with me 😘".

You, of course, had never expected him to actually see anything you said. Hell, you had subscribed to this silly app out of pure curiosity when your friend mentioned their 'bias' was an unbearable flirt! You didn't know he'd be so deliciously tempting.

It had become a comfortable routine for you to check his messages after work, happily spilling any gossip that you had acquired during your day. You thought he must have been a pro with the fan service considering how perfectly his messages always seemed to align with yours. It was almost like texting your best friend.

You were in the middle of brushing your teeth when you received his text. You had swiped the notification off your screen when you saw it, thinking a random "hey..." from an unsaved number must have come from an old fling of some sort.

You'd already begun to settle in to bed when a second text came through, the same unknown number lighting up your screen.

"Actually nevermind. Ignore that."

It was strange, to say the least. You hadn't had a hookup in what must have been well over 6 months and were sure none of them would have been dumb enough to reach out to you for a booty call.

"Uhhh hi. I dont have this number?"

His brain is running 100 miles a minute when he registers that you've responded. Should he tell you? Would you even believe him?

Realistically, the worst that could happen was that you didn't believe him. If that was the case, he would finally be able to move past his infatuation with you.

"Yeaaaah I'd hope not? It's Chris...."

Chris? You don't recall meeting a Chris. You're positive the only Chris you know of is Bang.

You snort out loud at the idea, an even louder laugh following at the sound you'd just made. This would make a great bubble message.

You open the app, quickly typing out your message before hitting send. "Someone just messaged me saying their name was Chris. Maybe I'm being watched 😂."

He really should have ignored you, and he knows that. Unfortunately for reason and logic, It was truly the perfect opportunity, and there wasn't enough space in his mind right now to be thinking about the consequences of his actions.

"Yeah, that would be me. Ready to fall in love with you I guess :P"

Startled? Terrified? It's possible there wasn't a word in existence that could accurately describe the feeling that ran through your body as you threw your phone down on your sheets. Maybe your delusion had finally caught up with you and you were one breath away from suffocation.

"I beg your finest fucking pardon????"

He gets a good giggle at that. Did you always swear this much? He's almost ashamed of the way his mind immediately wanders to the question of if you'd swear like that in bed. What would your voice sound like when you moaned the word at a barely audible whisper? God, he's practically vibrating when he replies, feeling slightly more confident than he did before.

"Do you always swear like that?"

The scoff you release is indignant, the hand on your chest vibrating with the force as the panic flowing through you eases for just a second before returning with a brutal vengeance when you register that IF this really was him, he's seen some severely unhinged content.

Your panic is combined with embarrassment as your fingers move rapidly across your keyboard.

"JESUS CHRIST HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW?!"

"Enough to be surprised that Sam wasn't fired a month ago?"

Your scream is audible and your face is flushed.

Your coworker Sam had been caught forging signatures a month ago, and you clearly remember the bubble rant you'd sent, thinking nothing of it at the time.

"I really shouldn't have done this... I'm really sorry!"

He's freaking himself out now, thoughts racing of how confused you must be. Did you think he was creepy? Oh god. Would he never hear from you again?

"UM??? I think the fuck not. You know all my secrets??? I will hold you hostage???"

You're hoping it eases the tension and doesn't sound like an actual threat, unable to help the slight ache you feel in your chest at the idea that you might miss this opportunity.

"Can I call?"

You beat him to it, hitting the call button before your rational brain was able to talk you out of it.

It only rings once before you hear that he's answered, but the silence is defeaning. You're both too scared to speak and it takes a full minute for you to work up the courage, understanding that this is much higher risk for the man on the other line.

"I've never had a stalker before." You laugh nervously, silently begging your voice to stay stable.

It works well and the tension is easing when you hear an airy laugh in response. Chris is practically giddy at the sound of your voice and in the back of his thoughts he notes that it's just as dangerous for his heart as he'd imagined.

"I'm not a stalker." You can hear the slight pout on the end of his words, sitting in the silence before he speaks again, much quieter this time. "I have been following your Instagram for a while though..."

The confidence boost is immediate when you register what he's said, and your response comes almost too naturally.

"Oh shit. You must want me reaaaal bad huh!"

You miss the way his breath catches, the word 'yes' being far too quiet to be caught by his microphone.

His anxiety quickly shifts back to a gnawing hunger when he realises that you aren't hanging up. Better, he can hear you shifting in your bed, the sound of your sheets ruffling around you. It's hard for him to avoid his focus shifting to the idea of what you might be wearing, but he does his best. Or at least, that's what he tells himself.

"If following you means I want you then you must be pretty obsessed with me, hm?"

You register the words as a challenge, considering that your quick wit and undeniable charm was something you took immense pride in.

"Maybe I do, big boy." You hear the cracks in his voice this time, and you'd be embarrassed on his behalf if you weren't occupied with the burn of desire that was sparking deep inside your stomach.

"Fuck..." he can't decide if he hopes you can or cannot hear the strain in the word, his hands resting dangerously close to the waistband of his briefs.

"Your voice is really pretty..."

An annoyed whine melts directly into his brain, sending bolts of sheer lust through every fibre of his body and he's desperate to hear more of it.

"Oh, shut the fuck up! That was so corny!"

"Watch your mouth."

Neither of you know where the sudden demanding tone has come from and he's just as surprised as you are, a nervous chuckle falling upon deaf ears as you replay the line in your head.

"Sorry... that was kind of-"

"Hot." You interrupt, your own hands beginning to wander while you begin mulling through your options silently. You've never been particularly difficult to work up and, as thoughts of his earlier messages flood your mind, all sense of caution slips right out of it.

"You must be pretty worked up today, huh?"

The teasing tone of your words fans the flames, the fact that you were actually flirting with him right now quite literally being his dream manifesting.

"You could say that..."

There's a subtle hesitation in him and it's easy for you to sense.

"Yeah? Poor thing. Bet you could use some relief..."

The groan you hear is so clear that you could have sworn it came from beside you, your fingers immediately trailing down to your underwear in search of what felt like urgently needed pressure.

"I could help you if you wanted."

The pulse of his heart racing can be felt in every inch of his body and he briefly wonders if he's going mad. His dick throbs at his touch, and he's bucking into his hand as his grip tightens over the thin material that confines it.

"Fuck... God this is breaking so many rules..."

He feels out of control at this point. It had been literal years since he'd done anything with another person, his trust issues overflowing like lava the second he'd ever dared to entertain the idea. So why was it so easy to lose control with you?

"Hey, we dont have to. If you want to stop you can hang up and I'll delete your number like nothing ever happened."

Your voice is laced with genuine concern and your chest tightens at the idea of making him uncomfortable. You'd spent so much time unknowingly being vulnerable with the man that to know it was all real made the fear of losing it too intense to bear.

"Chris?"

"I'm here baby."

Baby. Where did that come from? He's never called anyone baby before, with the exception of his younger members... It's hard for him to tell if he likes the way it feels or if he likes the dreamy moan that it's met with.

"Well shit..." There's more shuffling on your end along with a few curses before he can hear your steady breathing again.

"I'm so fucking hard." The grip around his cock is firmer now and whatever thread was keeping him tied to reality snaps the second he hears the barely there sound of a whimper as your fingers find your clit.

"You sound so pretty baby." Breathless words are almost a growl as he pictures how your face might look right now.

"Sounds like I'm not the only one in need of some relief."

"Shit. Yeah... its been a minute..."

You're embarrassed to admit it, but the way Chris coos at you makes it so hard to worry about anything other than the pleasure that courses through you when your fingers dance closer to your dripping hole.

"Yeah? What, nobody could get you off?" He's genuinely curious, and the pang of pride mixed with jealousy when you respond with a quiet 'yeah' is something he can't concern himself with right now.

"Kinda weird really..." a laugh follows briefly, interrupted by a high pitched moan that has Chris stroking his thick cock faster.

"I don't... yeah, I've never been this horny before." It's so certain when you say it. Nothing has ever turned you on as much as knowing that the man you'd been not-so-silently craving was currently getting off to the sound of you.

"What the fuck?" The man has to take a deep breath to steady himself. Why did that make him so angry...

"I wouldn't be able to fuck you without making you come at least twice."

Just the idea of you falling apart with his hand around your throat and his fingers pressed deep inside of you pushes him closer to the edge, the image he creates in his mind mixing torturously with the thoughts of what your hands would look like wrapped around him, his own moans and pants getting louder.

"Need it."

You're lost in pleasure at this point, your phone dropped beside your head as your fingers thrust into your cunt, your other hand rubbing circles on your clit.

"Need what, baby?"

"Need your cock. Fuck... it's probably thick isn't it? Bet it'd fill me so fucking well."

You're both surprised at the sudden change in your demeanour, but you're so overwhelmed by how good everything feels that you can't stop the desperation from bubbling up into your pitiful words.

"I'd be so good for you Chris. Promise I'd take it so well for you."

"You're gonna fucking kill me."

He's thrusting up into his hand at this point, fucking his fist and imagining what it might be like to fuck your greedy cunt instead. Its not cockiness that makes him sure he could have you begging for him. If he tried hard enough, he could probably get you addicted to being fucked by him.

You'd guessed well, and he knows the thickness of his cock would be such an incredible sight pressing deep inside of you. He can hear the sound of your fingers thanks to how obscenely soaked you were, silently praying he might get a chance to see it himself one day.

"You're so good for me baby. I know you'd take me so fucking well. You'd let me use that pretty pussy, huh? Let me fuck you nice and deep the way you deserve? God I wanna make you feel so good baby. Wanna see you fucked dumb on my cock. You'll let me do that for you, right? Let me worship that pretty pussy?"

Moans are flowing free and unashamed and you're chanting his name like a prayer, something that he's trying desperately to bookmark in his brain for later use.

"Wanna come. Please! Fuck, can I please? I need it, please!"

He's never heard something so sinful, seconds away from his own high.

"Please. Fuck. Come for me baby, wanna hear you."

Your moans become choked, your pussy clenching around your fingers as you grind your hips down into your hand. Your orgasm hits you so hard that you think you might have blacked out, only just hearing the breathless moans of your own name as Chris comes harder than he thinks he ever has before, thick white ropes painting his chest and stomach.

There's nothing to be heart but panted breaths for a long few minutes, both of you almost drifting to sleep before you fully register what has happened, a wave of embarrassment hitting you.

"I should probably let you go clean up..." Your voice is small, and he'd have easily missed it if he wasn't so intently tuned in to it, the idea that you might think this was all he wanted filling him with an aching need to hide you in his arms and provide you with all the reassurance you could ever ask for.

"Oh... yeah... you can hang up if you want to..."

Neither of you move and you hear shuffling on his end before his voice becomes clearer.

"Or we could both go shower and then maybe you can teach me about that show you've been talking about for the last 3 weeks?"

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #chan smut #skz smut #bang chan stray kids smut #bang chan skz smut #thefantasyden

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Text

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: "i am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten...a young handmaid for my second son, aemond."

warnings: nothing.

notes: an anon requested their first meeting, so here it is.

his handmaid's tales I main masterlist

It began with the Queen.

“How may I serve your Grace.”

“I am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten,” Queen Alicent had told the septa in private. It was gloomy outside, with dark clouds blanketing the sky. She had just finished lighting four candles. “A young handmaid for my second son, Aemond. He is the only of my children not to have one. I’d like for her to be sweet and devoted and quick on her feet, a girl who will swear her undying loyalty and service unto him and his needs.”

His twentieth nameday was fast approaching, set within the next fortnight. She felt this would be a fine gift for him.

The septa took a moment to think. “Does her breeding matter?” she asked. “I know of a girl- she is exactly what you desire, but she is a bastard, born to one of the serving wenches at Harrenhal.”

The queen’s nose wrinkled. “A riverlands bastard?”

“She is said to be Lord Lyonel’s granddaughter, my queen.”

“So a Strong bastard….” Alicent rubbed at her temple, “I suppose…if she is what I ask for, and that you can assure she’ll remain loyal to him.” She then sighed, shaking her head. “Though, do keep it away from my son, septa. He carries such little love for House Strong. I do not wish for him to turn his ire onto her if he ever found out.

The septa frowned. “Do you genuinely believe the prince would dare harm an innocent girl, your Grace?”

Alicent tugged at her gown's flowing sleeve, sniffing. “That is why I ask for you to keep her heritage a secret.”

Two weeks later, you stood in Prince Aemond’s bedchamber as his new handmaid. The septa was at your elbow, mumbling a flood of demands into your ear. “Stand straighter, child, for the sake of the gods. But keep your head bowed, gaze locked on your feet. You mustn’t ever behold the prince unless he allows it.” You ran a hand down your arm, feeling the skin prickled with goosebumps, before lacing your trembling fingers together.

To your right was the Queen, dressed in a pretty gown as green as summer. She said very little to you, if not nothing.

“Ah, Aemond! My dear boy, please join us,” she greeted quite happily when her son arrived at the doors of his room. You kept your eyes down, counting each loud footstep of his that loomed closer with every second.

“Who is this?”

Queen Alicent cleared her throat. “Your new handmaid, son.”

Prince Aemond remained silent. You could feel his gaze. One. Two. Three…four, five, six…. You swallowed, counting each heartbeat that quickened inside your chest as you willed yourself to stay still and brave. Do not tremble. It would be an embarrassment, no doubt. You felt your nails digging into your palms. Fear cuts much deeper than any sword.

“I was…unaware I needed a handmaid, dear mother,” he finally said.

“Aegon and Helaena have theirs, and Daeron’s been by his side in Oldtown since he was a young boy. It is unlike a prince not to have his own handmaid. She will do you well.”

“Do me well?”

“Yes!”

The septa pinched the skin of your arm, causing you to flinch before lifting your face to meet his eye from across the room. The prince...he was handsome, terribly so, you thought. Tall and silver-haired, dashing and imposing, with a deep violet eye. “I was brought here to serve you,” you told him, “-to do anything and everything my prince commands.” Prince Aemond skimmed you up and down, an eyebrow rising. “Anything? Such as…?”

You glanced at the septa, unsure of what to say next. “Um, well, my prince, I shall fix your baths and sew any ripped shirts if you’d like? I might also fetch you your wine if desired-”

“She’ll do whatever you ask of her, my prince,” the septa interjected. Queen Alicent smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Does that not please you, son?” She then leaned to mutter something close to his ear, and he stiffened, aiming his cool stare at you, before relaxing.

“Alright. You are suffice,” he decided before turning to his mother, his face softening. “Thank you, mother.”

Queen Alicent leaned to kiss his cheek before pushing past him out into the hall. The septa soon followed her, leaving you and Prince Aemond alone in the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. The prince stole another look at you. “What might I call you?”

You gave him your name, dropping low into a pretty curtesy. Every time you bow, your neck is at the mercy of the royals. “A beautiful name,” he said. His voice sounded throaty. He was clothed in black leather, from his shoulders to his ankles, and the cloak he wore around his shoulders. At his waist hung a longsword. “Thank you, my prince. It was my mother’s choosing.”

The raven had arrived at Harrenhal at midday, a flurry of black wings that carried a letter demanding your sudden attendance at the Red Keep at the request of the queen herself. Your mother was reluctant to send you off at first but eventually did so with five sweet kisses and a bright yellow mullein flower that she slipped into the pocket of her old green cloak.

Prince Aemond hummed. “Well, if you’d like, I have two shirts that are in need of sewing. Ser Cole knicked them with his own sword during my training four mornings back.” He gestured to his closet, nicely carved from weirwood, pale as a bone. The look of it reminded you of your mother and the gods you left behind at home.

You nodded, bowing. “As my prince commands,” and you moved towards the closet to fetch his shirts, although you would likely need to venture out to find a needle and…

A hand touched your arm.

You spun to meet him. “Do you need something else, my prince?” Prince Aemond stood so close you could see the long pale scar peeking from behind his eyepatch, his dark eyelashes, and his jutting chin and high cheekbones. He was far more beautiful up close. You felt butterflies in your belly, stirring up a strange fluttering feeling; it crept up your spine to your throat.

“Do you fear me?”

You bit your lip. “No.”

He hummed again, eye flickering across your face. You do not believe me, don't you. You felt it glide over your browbone, to the slope of your nose, and pausing at your lips. “Fix my shirts, then. I have needles and thread in my closet as well. You do not leave the room unless I dismiss you.”

“She is yours. Your handmaid. Everything she does next is at your own will and mercy,” his mother whispered to him. “But do treat her well, Aemond. It is through kindheartedness that you receive devotion.”

tag list: @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

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see-arcane · 7 months

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The Harkers have got me fucked up. Not just from how much they're going through. Not just from how well they know each other.

But in how much is not being said. How much that appears to have been missed.

Mina has just made their friends swear to euthanize her. In front of Jonathan, who she knows cannot/will not make said promise aloud, though she tries to fish it out. A funeral service, yes, but no more than that. She takes the wins she can, relying on the others for the sacrificial slaughter while she pries what she thinks is some mote of acceptance of the Worst Case Scenario in Potentia from Jonathan. Perhaps she's read the vampiric vow of his journal by now. Perhaps not. Perhaps she already suspects either way and wants desperately not to see him damn himself, damn both of them, to avoid raising a killing hand to her.

She is going into the dark. What kind, she does not know yet. But she knows--thinks she knows--she has taken some measure to save her soul and Jonathan's. God's will be done. (Piety trembles in her heart, a fear trying frantically to still look like faith.)

Jonathan, meanwhile, is in Hell.

As it was in the castle, there are some miseries too deep to dwell on for him to stomach writing them down. Hence his tapping Jack to record it all. But the silence from him here, bar the dodge of the promise that goes against his private vow, bar the reading of the burial service, sinks deeper than any horror he suffered from the Count in person. What can he be thinking now?

I made this all possible. I opened the door to England for him. Showed him how to spread his poison. Failed to strike a killing blow when I had the chance. Slept frozen and useless beside her as he drank and made her drink. Lost him by inches in Piccadilly. Now I am here, listening to her claim so sunnily that any man of old would murder his woman to save her from the enemy's touch, as if asking for a trifle. All the while I sit contemplating a hellish betrayal, holding my heart over her wishes, over sanity, humanity, Heaven and Hell. Contemplating worse.

(The kukri is very sharp by now. In time it will have so fine an edge that no one would feel its cut before their head toppled off. Be they in a coffin or a friend with their back turned. Sickly, he finds the thought cold and placid in his mind. Is he not already damned for what he's allowed? Is he not already slated for the Count's collection? He knows whose blood it was on the monster's lips on that final dawn in Transylvania. And when he dies...)

I imagine he has to stop himself from making a mirrored request to the others right there. Has to stop himself from handing Mina the Bible and asking her to read it out for him. If she is lost, he is lost. It is not merely undeath that he would follow her into--whatever she is, wherever she goes, so must he be, so must he go.

Read it for me now, darling. You laid it all out so eloquently. I am already lost but for the wait for the grave. Come everyone, while we're here. Two funerals. Two sets of oaths. I can perhaps save you half the work, if I fall neatly enough on the kukri. Pry it from my heart and take my head when the time comes.

But he bites his tongue. Does not touch his pen. Does not risk heaping another weight on his love who is already crushed beneath existential terrors that are being thrust on her by the actions of others. She does not know what he is planning, even if she suspects it by half.

What she knows: Jonathan cannot raise a hand to her. (He would have me as a monster than not exist at all.)

What he prays she never will: Jonathan will be anything she is. (Mortal. Monster. Dead.)

One last secret to keep.

All the way to the grave.

#I'm fine I'm great I'm having a lovely time #mina harker #jonathan harker #holiest love #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

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violetmarkings · 8 months

Text

Perfect | Kim Seungmin

Genre: Smut (18+)

Pairing: Stray Kids Seungmin x female reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: porn with very little plot, their relationship is kinda ambiguous in the beginning - so a fwb (?) to lovers kinda thing, Seungmin is a sex god and this mainly focused on female pleasure, so service dom seungmin x sub fem reader, edging (f rec), overstimulation (f rec), vibrator (used on f), v fingering, protected penetration, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talk, reader gets called slutty (lovingly), worship (f rec), use of the green - yellow - red safe word system, they are actually in love i swear, soft aftercare ofc, and very fluffy ending

Enjoy! 🍵

You were standing at the crossroads between love and absolute sin. And somehow, Seungmin was the bridge to both of those things at once. You counted almost five orgasms that night.

The first time, he teased and edged you through your panties, with skillful fingers. He was spooning you, his breath hot on your neck as he kissed it every once in a while, encouraging you, humming along to every sound escaping your lips; as if he was agreeing with you about how good it feels. Rubbing your pussy and clit, stopping every few seconds to make sure you don't cum too early, Seungmin was making you feel so good and so safe.

Unfortunately the edging didn't last very long because through your panties, he couldn't quite grasp how close you are. You came, relaxing into putty into his warm grasp.

"We're continuing, right?" He asked you, to make sure. Of course you were continuing. Your appetite was barely awakening, and you needed so much more from him. You were craving every single thing that you knew only Seungmin could grant you. Nodding sheepishly at him, you turned to watch him fish out your vibrator from the drawer.

You and Seungmin had somewhat of an agreement. A mind-blowing sex agreement.

You've known him for years; worked on assignments with him, met him again at a part time job, got wasted with him a couple times, shared with him your deepest secrets. And one day you told him: that you have a fascination with certain kinks and that you wished you had someone to explore them with.

"I can do that." Is what he replied with and you didn't know if you were supposed to be laughing, crying, mortified or excited. There was definitely a spark, a connection between you and Seungmin since day one - in the idea that you had impeccable teamwork in whatever you worked at together. And he was, of course, very attractive, kind and a great person overall - when he wasn't being a menace. However, your kinks needed exactly that, for him to be a menace to you. You wanted to be edged, teased, overstimulated and tortured with pleasure until you couldn't think straight. And Seungmin took up the challenge.

So after the first orgasm, he brought out your bullet vibrator and, without even taking off your clothes, he placed it inside your panties, turned it on and pressed it onto you, making sure the panties were keeping it in place. The vibrations began to deliciously settle into your nerves, and Seungmin was moving the vibrator up and down to stimulate you as intensely as possible. The air grew hot very fast, and soon your hips were moving with a mind of their own to chase after that vibrator. You were struggling; clearly wanting it - wanting to cum again, you were craving it desperately. Seungmin was heavily amused watching you.

He made such a self discovery by volunteering to help you out. He liked it, a lot. He wasn't sure if he liked this kind of kinks in general (because he gets to tease as much as he wants) or he likes it because it's you. When he finds the courage to, he'll realize it's actually you he likes the most.

"C-cumming!" You warned him, and he was woken out of his thoughts. You orgasmed again, thighs shaking. He climbed further up your body, pulling your pants and panties down to grab the vibrator, which he pushed even tighter into your puffy clit to overstimulate you. You cried out, physically trying to fight him off with shaking, hip jerking and your nails burying into his arms. But he wasn't planning on stopping, dragging that sharp pleasure on and on, whimper after whimper sounding from you as you rolled your head on the pillow frantically.

It was so hot. Your body was so hot. Like your engines were overheating, like there was suddenly no more air to grasp onto. It was torturous, but pleasurable in unexplainable ways.

He didn't let the device slip even for one second, taking off all of your clothes with just one hand, including your shirt that was beginning to stick to your skin.

He could look at your pussy now. Really look at it, watch it twitch - the wet, leaking mess it had become. Your juices were sticking to the vibrator, making slick noises as Seungmin continued to play with you. Suddenly, he maneuvered the vibrator in his hand in such a way that it was extremely lightly grazing your clit, instead of pressing into it like it was before. It was a completely different kind of pleasure now, one that wasn't so hot and thick, it was light and ticklish, and it was replenishing your hunger for another orgasm.

"You're so slutty." Seungmin mumbled, and then he looked directly into your eyes. A pang of pleasure shot through your body at the eye contact, especially because he licked his lips. He was parched, hungry - not for food or water though, for you. His hard on was becoming uncomfortable. "I love it." He continued. "I love how slutty you are." He was still moving the vibrator up and down, very lightly rubbing your clit and letting the vibrations do the rest. His fingers were beginning to feel numb from holding it for so long. "God, look at you. So wet." You have no idea how, but he got you close to a third orgasm. "You're so sexy. I could watch you forever." He kissed your knee, your thigh, left feather light kisses on your belly. You wanted to caress him, grab him up and kiss his lips, but you were doomed to tightly grasp the bedsheets.

So close. So, so close. The pleasure sharpened and sharpened, until it finally freed you. You came again, but this time around he just helped you ride out your orgasm, body shaking and arching, legs locking around his body. Then, he turned off the vibrator. Your chest heaved, your head dizzy and ears muffled.

He moved up your body, leaving pecks on your chest, neck and then all over your face. You giggled, hand slightly shaking as you finally tangled it in his hair. You turned towards him, being met with the most beautiful, chocolate puppy eyes. They were full of admiration. He locked lips with you, in a quick but soft kiss that spoke volumes to you.

Kissing was never off of the table in your arrangement with Seungmin. Weirdly.

"Are we feeling good?" He asked you.

"Mhm." You hummed happily.

"Want more?"

"Yes, please. Need it inside." You were insatiable. You kissed Seungmin again and he couldn't help but smirk.

Crawling between your legs again, he watched your arousal leak out of your patiently waiting hole. He pushed two fingers in, curling them to chase after your gummy wall. You moaned, as if you were waiting to moan that whole night. You could finally feel it, that sweet drag inside of you. He opened you up, pushing his fingers against your walls, then began to pump them in and out, his palm slapping into your clit with every thrust. But it wasn't enough, it just wasn't. Your body was beyond sensitive, and it wanted something bigger, something more substantial.

As if he could read your mind, he got up from the bed, the loss of his fingers leaving you feeling empty. He took his clothes off and grabbed a condom, struggling to roll it around his raging hard on. He waited so patiently for this, and laughed maniacally at the string of whines and moans leaving you as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your swollen clit.

"So greedy and so eager." He teased and you nodded, biting your lip. He took that as challenge, softly fucking his tip inside of your hole. "Don't worry, I'll give you what you want and more."

It already felt heavenly when he was just fucking you with the tip. But then - then he pushed himself in deeper, and deeper. He went slow at first, dragging his hard, hot and heavy dick between your walls. You could feel him in every inch of you, in your body, in your mind, and in your soul. You were so wet, squelching so loud as he moved, that he was able to glide in you so easily, with absolutely no pain. He grabbed your hips to adjust you on his dick, lifting them in an angle.

"Help me find your spot, baby." He asked, and you shimmied your hips in his grasp, arching and angling yourself so that his dick was hitting you right where you wanted it. Like the obedient puppy he is, he began to pound into your g-spot, eventually his hand landing on your clit to rub it. Overwhelmed, your body began to burn, body shaking terribly as all of your senses overloaded. Feeling you clench so hard and shake, Seungmin slowed down, thinking you came.

"Did you come?"

"I don't know." You whined. "My body is so sensitive, I can't even think anymore." Even though you were whining and mewling, you were smiling; and so happy to be at Seungmin's mercy. You were never this intimate and vulnerable with anyone before.

"Do you want us to stop?" You definitely didn't want him to stop. He spent way too little time fucking you. Your walls were still craving the push of his cock.

"No, not yet. I'm not satisfied yet." For a second, he looked at you like you were crazy. But then a look of worry replaced it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." From worried, he went right back to cheeky as he heard the lust in your voice. What a demoness you were.

"My naughty princess." He whispered into your neck.

Yes, you were a little crazy to want more when your thighs were shaking with every thrust. But that's something he loved about you.

How crazy you were.

Wrapping his arms around you tightly, Seungmin spun you two around so that you'd be on top. With a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, he watched you move to find your preferred riding position, giving him a view of your body, that he found to be so beautiful, so perfect. Sweat was rolling down your sides, and that tortured and passionate look in your eyes was driving him insane.

You couldn't quite make yourself cum. You tried, riding him, hands pressing hardly into his chest, into his very heart, rubbing your clit with desperation as you moved. But it wasn't good enough, so he decided to help you by thrusting up into you. You collapsed into his chest at the pleasure, and he rolled you around again, to be on top and retake the lead. Lifting one of your legs up for better access to drill your hole, he decided it was about time to wrap up.

Like the absolute maniac he was, he grabbed the vibrator again and showed it to you.

"May I?" So courteous. It was pissing you off.

"You may - hnng!" Seungmin knew this was the most certain way to make you see stars. It took a couple of seconds, too. All he had to do was thrust a couple of times, let the vibrator go wild on your clit and you were convulsing, screaming, clawing at him.

He kept going through your orgasm, chasing after his own high while you were in hyper-drive, clenching so tight around him your pussy might as well swallow him whole.

"Color?"

"Ah, yellow-!" It was a simple system, really. Green meant go, yellow meant it was almost too much, and red meant stop.

"Can I finish and wrap up?" As if you were crazy enough to ask for another one after all this. But even if you did, he wouldn't agree to it. Yellow is enough for him to stop - he doesn't ever want to hear red come out of your mouth. Thankfully, you agreed to end it.

And finally, you milked him dry. He came into the condom with a grunt, stopping the vibrator and stuttering his hips into you. You both breathed hard, one more spent than the other. You've always been impressed by Seungmin's ability to not cum unless when he intends to - how even in the world does he withstand it?

After he caught his breath, he pulled out and went to clean up and throw away the messy condom. He came back to pick you in his arms, carrying your naked body to the bathroom where he gently cleaned you up and allowed you to empty your bladder and untangle your hair.

When you came back , he already tidied the room and organized a cozy spot for you on the bed where he could wrap you in blankets and cradle you in his arms.

"How are we feeling?" He asked again, and you grew so, so fond of this sentence.

"Perfect." You reply, smiling at him, and he grins back. He's radiating happiness, and if you're not wrong, he's never smiled like this around anyone else but you. "Can we become official tomorrow?" You mumbled into his chest, and his heart didn't skip a beat, it skipped multiple.

"Are you serious? D-do... You wanna be my girlfriend?" Finally. Finally he could be allowed, to love you so deep, in such a disgustingly shameless way like he desired. He hoped he wasn't dreaming, and that his sex goddess was actually, really going to become his.

"Yes." You reply, booping his nose with your finger.

"I would love nothing more." Yes, yes, and a million more times yes. Can you even begin to imagine how happy you're making him?

"Perfect." You say back, kissing him briefly before burying your face in his naked chest.

"Perfect." He copies you, leaving tiny kisses on your hair. "You're perfect."

Your feedback is greatly appreciated~

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-Admin Starlight ⭐

©violetmarkings do not copy or repost

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 5 months

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Dating Neige LeBlanche Headcanons

I write Reader/Yuu as female

Masterlist

He’s the absolute epitome of a fairytale prince I swear. Like Snow White, he’s such a forest nymph - animals just flock to him (honestly same)

His favourite pet name for you is ‘dove’ but he does love calling you ‘snowdrop’

He’s so kind and gentle and he’s filled with so much tender adoration ♡

He is fair and beautiful both outside and in and it shows all the time okay

Think of the personification of innocent young romance. He’s that.

You both are constantly giving each other butterflies, it’s adorable.

Since you live in NRC, he likes to send his bird friends to give you his love. Usually white doves would nestle and rub against your cheek, softly cooing, or blue birds would fly to your window with a scented love letter attached to their talons.

Your animal friends are very much acting as your wingmen and they love to playfully push you together

The seven dwarfs love you and have been shipping the two of you since the moment you met

Being a celebrity, he knows the importance of privacy and whether you want your relationship to be secret or public he’ll be 1000% supportive

If you’re comfortable with a public relationship, he’s definitely written at least one love song thinking about you

You’re the first person to get any of his new products - even the ones that aren’t even released yet

One the first things he does with you, before you even start dating, is show you his secret hideout in RSA and the wishing well he loves to sit and sing by

He has a white mare and he loves it when you ride with him

His favourite pieces of outerwear are his cherry red cape, cloak and jacket and he just loves to drape them over you (you love it more since they never fail to carry his scent)

Berry picking dates! Strolls along the forest dates! Baking dates! Just being in each others’ presence dates!

Definitely an acts of service kind of guy

Prince Rielle is the president of your ship (this doesn’t really have anything to do with the headcanons I just wanted to get that out there)

This sweetheart just lives for forehead and cheek kisses (both giving and receiving)

He’ll take any opportunity to sing - his motto is ‘with a smile and a song’ after all

He’s very much a classical romantic and absolutely adores poetry

He likes to dance with you - he gets so excited waltzing with you in public but the intimacy of being alone with you is incomparable

He never fails to give you a bouquet of flowers (if that’s your thing) whenever he meets you no matter how swift or mundane the meeting is

He’s so considerate and open about everything. He only tries to hide his feelings when he gets upset or overwhelmed or not as sunny as he usually is - not necessarily because he wants to keep things from you but because he knows that if you see him upset, you’ll get upset and he never wants to see you upset. This only lasts for a minute at most because he hates keeping things from you and you can see right through him (not that it’s an easy feat - this boy is an award-winning actor)

He’s a king at sympathy and comfort and always knows exactly what to do when you’re feeling down

The both of you like to read and act out fairy tales together.

If you enjoy singing, you bet that he’d duet with you

He never fails to text you good morning and goodnight

He’s only got one heart that’s constantly singing one song, only for you.

#neige leblanche x reader #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #fem reader

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cheollipop · 1 year

Text

late night cravings

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 3.7k

tags: smut, fluff

even after a long night of practice, wooyoung wanted all of you -- and you loved him too much to deny him that

warnings: soft/service dom!reader, sub!wooyoung, mommy kink, praise, begging, phone sex, masturbation (f&m), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (👎🏻), creampie, a cute little breeding kink, multiple orgasms (f&m), overstimulation (m), nicknames (woo, youngie, sweetheart, baby boy, baby), dirty talk (and a LOT of it), piss kink (shh, just trust me), lingerie, reader is genuinely whipped for wy.... def not projecting rn

A/N: this was a wip for quite a while and the beginning phases were.... rough, to put it simply. but I pushed through (yayy)! I put my all in this one, so I really hope you enjoy reading it

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You pried your eyes off your laptop’s bright screen, your fingers pausing over the keyboard to look at your phone, the sudden vibration startling you. You read your boyfriend’s name and answered the call, putting him on speaker before moving your hands back to your keyboard.

“Woo? Why are you still awake?” Your eyes flitted to the bottom corner of your laptop screen – 1:37am.

“Hey, baby. ‘Just finished practice,” Wooyoung’s voice sounded through your phone.

You hummed, “did you have a good day?”

It took him a moment to reply, shuffling for a few seconds on the other end. “Yeah, but I missed you too much,” you could hear the pout on his lips, your own curling upwards at Wooyoung’s words.

“I missed you too, baby. We’ve both been really busy, huh?” you sighed, and you heard Wooyoung do the same.

“Too busy.”

You listened to him talk about his day, mindlessly scrolling through the article you were meant to be reading, but decided that Wooyoung’s voice was much more interesting – his words mushed together in your head, and his sentences did not make sense, and yet, you couldn't help but lean your head on your palm and close your eyes, enjoying the steady beat at which he was talking.

“(Y/n)? Baby, are you there?”

You hummed, nodding before realizing that he couldn’t see you. “I’m here... but I didn’t hear a single word you said.”

“Oh, how come?”

“Mmm, ‘don’t know. Your voice just sounds nice.”

He giggled at your words. A few moments of comfortable silence passed before Wooyoung spoke again.

“Do you want to hear a little secret?”

You recognized the tone he was using – the subtle whine, the audible smirk on his lips. You straightened up in your seat, already out of breath, as if you hadn't been sitting in front of your laptop for the past five hours.

“Yeah, tell me,” you blushed at the slight tremor in your voice.

“I wore the present you bought me last week to practice today,” he whispered, nearly in your ear from how close your face was to your phone. It took you a few seconds, the gears churning in your head before clicking in place. A wave of burning heat rushed through you at the image of Wooyoung at practice, sweating with exertion while hiding the lacy, baby pink panties you had bought him underneath his sweats. Adding fuel to the fire, Wooyoung added, “I was hard for hours, and.... I think Yunho noticed.” You heard more shuffling on his end, your hands gripping the edge of your desk firmly, knuckles turning white. “The material felt so g-good against my cock while I was dancing, (Y/n),” he whined, and you almost blacked out.

“Did you-” you cleared your throat, forcing the words out. “Did you come, baby?”

“Uh-uh, I’ve been good. I held i-it in all night,” Wooyoung was breathless, shuffling more insistently on his end. “Please- I s-swear, please. Help me, mommy.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the nickname, your thighs rubbing together as burning lust flooded through you. “Okay, baby, I’ll take care of you. Are you touching yourself?”

“Y-yeah, it feels s-so good,” he panted, small, high-pitched moans resounding in your room.

You could hear the rapid movement of his hand over his cock – you imagine his fingers teasing at the protruding vein, twisting his wrist around his cockhead and smearing his precum down his length.

“Good boy,” you ground your hips into your chair, sighing at the friction against your aching clit. “Did you like it when Yunho saw you, did that turn you on?” You heard him gasp, slick noises growing more rapid as he pumped his cock into his fist.

“Y-yeah- fuck, it was s-so hot,” panting heavily, Wooyoung breathed out a series of moans followed by desperate repetitions of your name. You slid your hand into your panties, sighing when your fingers brushed against your clit.

“Did you want him to help you out?” Your voice shook, waves of pleasure surging through your abdomen as you worked your clit with vigour, your other hand gripping the edge of your desk. “Tell me, did you want Yunho’s big hands around your cock?”

“Fuck! Keep- k-keep talking- nghh!” Wooyoung’s high-pitched moans were like music to your ears, and you revelled in his broken whimpers before pressing him further.

“Answer me, baby boy, did you want him to fuck you stupid, until you were all out of cum?”

Wooyoung groaned into his phone, his movements ceasing as ropes of cum painted his belly and chest, his whole body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. You didn’t push him any further, already knowing what his answer would be. Instead, with a few more firm circles around your clit, you found yourself rocking your hips against your chair as your high washed over you – curling your toes and resting your forehead against the desk while waves of pleasure seared through your abdomen.

You basked in the comfortable silence for a few minutes, catching your breath before checking up on the man on the other end of the line.

“Woo?”

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect,” Wooyoung muttered, and you could hear the smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, baby.”

The corners of your lips curled upwards bashfully, and you twirled the string of your hoodie between your fingers. “Anything for you.”

You chatted about your day for a while before hanging up with whispered good night’s and I love you’s, turning your attention to the taxing view of your unfinished assignment. You sighed, fingers going back to punching holes into your keyboard.

–

You didn’t hear the front door open, too immersed in your essay to notice the man standing at your bedroom door. You peeped his figure peeking into your room from your peripherals, your head snapping to the side with wide eyes and a shiver to your fingers.

“Fuck, Wooyoung!” You slumped against your desk once you registered his familiar face.

“Sorry,” he muttered, walking into the room to stand by your desk. “I thought you heard me come in.”

You shook your head, hand on your chest while you attempted to bring your heart back to normal rates. “Is everything okay? Why are you here?”

You looked up at him when he fell silent, your eyes scanning his face – his eyes looking at anything but you, red tinting the apples of his cheeks. Your eyebrows furrowed while you tried to analyse his expression, worry twisting your gut tighter the longer Wooyoung remained silent.

“I-it wasn’t enough,” you barely picked up the words, his voice barely over a whisper.

You reached out to grab his hand, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion, and you tugged him closer to stand between your legs. “What wasn’t enough? Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong,” you squeezed his hand, your other one running soothing lines up and down his forearm.

Wooyoung’s eyes finally met yours, a mischievous glimmer you were well familiar with decorating his irises, the blush on his face deepening and spreading down his neck. “I want more, (Y/n). Want you, please... please, can I have you?”

Waves of heat rushed through your body, straight down to your core. raising your eyebrows in disbelief. “Y-you-” you cleared your throat, blinking rapidly at the man hovering over you, his hand squeezing insistently against yours. “I thought you were going to bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep, ‘kept thinking about you...” he paused, eyes moving off you for a second, as if hesitant to speak his next words, before fixing themselves back on you with newfound determination. “I-I came again after we hung up, b-but it wasn’t enough... can mommy help me?”

You nearly doubled over at his words, thighs pressing together when a dizzying surge of arousal blurred your vision, your lips parting and closing while you tried to formulate a meaningful response, brain turning into mush as you took in Wooyoung’s state – desperate, eyes glazed over and teary as he looked down at you helplessly, his fingers fiddling with your own.

“How can I help, baby boy?” You couldn’t resist him, one hand reaching for his hip, your thumb sliding under his shirt to brush against the bare skin, burning under your touch.

Wooyoung took a step closer to you, his knees bumping against your chair before his eyes settled on yours again, his cheeks a bright red under the warm hue of your lamp.

“Wanna taste you.”

---

You tried to focus on your assignment, you really did, but the words blurred into blots of black on your screen every time Wooyoung fucked his tongue into you, two of his fingers already stuffed deep inside your cunt. You slumped further down in your seat, rolling your head back against the headrest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut as jolts of pleasure shot through your abdomen.

Wooyoung pulled his mouth off you, licking a stripe up your pussy and circling his tongue around your clit before speaking, “feels good?”

“Yeah, y-yeah, baby. ‘Feels so- hnnngh!” His fingers curled against your walls, pressing directly against your g-spot and drawing out a broken cry from between your lips. “You’re doing so good, Woo – hahhh – such a good boy for me.”

Wooyoung’s free hand held your thighs open, his fingers pressing into the doughy flesh as he took your clit into his mouth and gave it a firm suck. Your fingers brushed through his dark locks, gripping a handful of them at the crown of his head, a long moan leaving Wooyoung's lips and vibrating against your folds. You peeked under your desk at the man kneeling between your legs – his eyes were closed, his expression hinting at nothing short of pure ecstasy as he lapped at your cunt like a starved man, collecting all your juices on his tongue before swallowing, then going back in for more.

“God, fuck! Keep going, a-ahhh, right there-“

It was when Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered open to look up at you that you finally let go, your hips rolling over his face, riding his flattened tongue as waves of pleasure rushed through you. Wooyoung's fingers fucked into you mercilessly, only slowing down once your thighs closed around his head, twitching every time he pushed into your sopping cunt.

“Woo, g-give me a second,” you used your grip on his hair to push him away from you, his fingers slipping out of you and moving to grip your other thigh. You couldn’t help but smile at the face he was giving you – all fucked out and desperate, his chin dripping with your arousal.

“Come here,” you muttered, pushing your chair back to allow him space to crawl out from under your desk. You held your arms open for him, wrapping them around Wooyoung’s shoulders when he all but threw himself at you and buried his nose into your collarbone, still on his knees between your trembling thighs. “Youngie,” you whispered, urging Wooyoung to get up.

And he did, lifting you up with him and twisting you, your ass making contact with the cold wooden desk. Wooyoung placed his hands on either side of you and leaned into your embrace once again. You carded your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp and waiting to see how much longer he could tolerate the idleness before he got desperate again.

The answer: not long.

In under a minute, Wooyoung was nipping and sucking at your neck, whining into the skin while his hands wandered under your shirt to cup your breasts. The view was downright sinful – your thigh entrapped between Wooyoung’s legs while he rutted against it like a bitch in heat. Pulling his face away to look at you with lidded eyes, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think Eros himself was before you, begging you to touch him.

Wooyoung held your jaw in his palm, kissing over your clothed shoulders before removing your shirt altogether, tossing it to the side to join the rest of your discarded clothing. “Can I kiss you?” He breathed out, hips still rolling over your thigh, his soft pants blowing against your face.

Even when he looked at you as though he couldn’t wait to ravish you – or you to ravish him – you were still endeared by every little thing he did. So you leaned in, slotting your lips against his, letting the sleeping world around you fade into nothing. It was just you and Wooyoung, limbs tangled up as you took in every miniscule detail about the other, down to the rate in which they breathed, to the faintest of freckles adorning their skin.

It didn’t take long before desperation took over Wooyoung again, biting on your bottom lip and licking into your mouth, running his tongue over your teeth all the while his hips continued their hurried grinds over your thigh. You swallowed every last whine he expelled into your mouth, breaking the kiss to strip him of his shirt. You pressed your lips to his again, running your hands over his bare back before sliding them down to toy with the band of his sweats.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered against his lips, pressing wet kisses around his mouth while untying the drawstrings and pushing his pants down. You didn’t expect the lacy material against your palms, Wooyoung’s cockhead – red and angry, wet with precum – peeking through of the hem. You refused to blink, mouth agape as you took in the baby blue panties hugging Wooyoung’s hips, the see-through material making you gush all over the desk under you.

“D-do you like it?” Wooyoung mewled, his hand cupping your hip, thumb sliding through your folds and catching against your pulsing hole. He sunk his thumb inside, grinding his bulge against your thigh. “I wanted to wear the pink ones, b-but I got those dirty...”

Your hand cupped his nape, tugging at the long strands there. “Mm, did you want to come that bad? So desperate that you made a mess of the pretty panties I bought you?”

Wooyoung whimpered, an elongated sound that made way for a new wave of arousal to pass through you. He nodded, the action restricted by the tight grip you had on his hair. “P-please, please, please,” he repeated with every grind, the lace wet with precum and straining against his cock. “Wanna fuck you, please... ‘Wanna fuck mommy's tight pussy.”

You wanted to tease him more, edge him until he was nothing but a whiny, pleading mess. But the tears in his eyes and the tiny sniffles he tried to hide broke your composure, your hands shoving the lacy fabric down until it hooked under his balls, watching as Wooyoung’s cock sprang free – his prominent vein protruding and stretching towards his cockhead, begging to be touched.

“You've been such a good boy, haven’t you?” You squeezed the base of his cock, taking in the pure bliss washing over Wooyoung’s face – lips parted as an airy moan escaped him, eyebrows scrunched while pleasure shot up his spine. He nodded frantically, fucking himself into your fist. “I guess I should give you a treat then, no? My dirty Youngie came all the way here to get his dick wet after all.”

You noticed the fresh precum leaking down his length at your words, leading his cock towards your fluttering hole and holding it there. Wooyoung pried his eyes off your pussy to look into your eyes, his own glimmering with want.

“Can I? Please, please- I’ve been good, I need- h-hnnngh!” He cut himself off, pushing past your entrance and into your wet heat, immediately beginning to pound into you.

Wooyoung leaned forward, biting down on your shoulder while his hips slammed into you; desperate, frantic thrusts drawing out a series of curses and breathy moans from your mouth. You wrapped your arms around him, your chests flush as you rolled your hips to meet his, the sound of skin-on-skin vibrating between your bedroom walls.

“Fuuuuck- Baby, you feel s-so good,” you moaned into his ear, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer to you. Your back arched when he changed his angle, hammering his cock into you forcefully, your body jolting every time his cockhead pressed against your g-spot. “There! Right there, Woo- nghhh!”

“Haaah- You’re so tight, mommy... 'gonna come already-” Wooyoung sucked a bruise under your jaw, licking a stripe across its slope before pressing his mouth to yours; his lips parted shortly after, grunting and groaning while your tongue pressed against his. “C-can I- ahh- ‘Wanna fill you up, make you a mommy,” he whispered, palm pressing against your lower belly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your walls clamping down around Wooyoung while he continued fucking into you, pumping his cock directly against your favourite spot.

"God, shit, fuck- yeah, Youngie, fill mommy up with all your cum-"

The second his thumb slipped down to tweak your clit, your vision blurred, stars scattering across the breadth of it as you tipped over the edge. The build-up to your orgasm did nothing to prepare you for the shockwaves of pleasure that rushed through you – your nerves went into overdrive and your body seized up, basking in the bliss of your high.

Wooyoung was quick to follow with a drawn-out moan, pounding into your throbbing cunt twice before sheathing himself inside you, warmth spreading through your abdomen as he painted your walls with his load. Wooyoung pulled out and watched the last few ropes of cum coat your abdomen, running his length through your slick folds and following the way your hips jerked every time he brushed against your clit.

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his cock, your juices making the slide easy as you slowly pumped his length, eyes fixed on Wooyoung’s face. His eyebrows knitted, the overstimulation mixed with pleasure flustering him, unsure about whether to pull away from your touch or to let you to milk him dry.

“Mommy,” he whined, and you responded with a sly smirk, your fist tightening around his sensitive cock, twitching eagerly in your hand. “I-I can’t- nghhhh- ‘hurts!”

You kissed a line down Wooyoung's collarbone, your hand pumping him faster, twisting around his head before falling down to squeeze at his base once again. “Give me one more. You’re mommy’s good boy, right? You can do it,” you urged him, pressing soft pecks over the column of his neck before moving to nip at his earlobe.

Wooyoung’s hands gripped your shoulders and he bumped his forehead with yours, eyes scrunched shut while he instinctively fucked himself into your fist, breathing out hot air against your face. You kept your eyes open, scoping out every little change in his expression, your free hand wrapping around to grab a handful of his ass and guiding him to thrust into your fist.

“There you go, you’re doing so well, sweetheart. Will you come again for me?”

Wooyoung was a mess – drool streaming down his chin, tears staining his cheeks, eyes barely open as they peered back at you.

“I-it feels strange, mommy, m-my dick feels weird- a-aahhh- I’m scared,” he babbled through broken moans.

You peppered kisses all over his face, contrasting the ruthless movements of your hand over his cock, sending jolts of overstimulation through Wooyoung’s body. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe,” you held on to his ass more firmly before releasing it and bringing your hand down against the plump flesh, leaving behind angry, red lines that you'll end up kissing over the next day.

“I- I-I can’t, I’m gonna-“ his back arched, his moans throaty and desperate as he felt the pressure building up in his lower stomach.

“Come for me, Youngie. You’ve done so well, sweetheart. Can you squirt for mommy?”

With a broken sob, Wooyoung finally let go, streams of clear liquid spurting out of him and coating both your abdomens, shuddering violently as his orgasm barrelled through him. Wooyoung’s cock throbbed in your hand as you slowly milked everything out of him, his piss spraying everywhere – your assignment notes saturated with the liquid, the ink leaking between the piled sheets.

You pulled your hand off him when he slumped against you, completely drained after coming four times in one night. You smoothed a hand over Wooyoung's back, the other rubbing calming circles over his hip. Pressing your lips to his pulse point, you inhaled his scent – a blend of his citrusy body wash and the sweat covering his body.

“You alright, Woo?” You murmured against his skin.

Wooyoung hummed, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “That was hot,” he giggled.

The corners of your lips curled into a fond smile and your fingers ran through Wooyoung’s locks, matted down with sweat. “It wasn’t too much?”

“Uh-uh,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder before pulling away just enough to meet your eyes, his own heavy with exhaustion, but you didn’t miss the glint of tenderness meant only for you. “It was perfect.”

You cleaned up while Wooyoung slipped into the shower, tossing out the drenched papers and wiping down your desk and laptop before sneaking into the bathroom to join him. You washed his hair, he washed yours, and then insisted he help you clean out his cum – that ended in joyous giggles and a tickle fight, which he won. It was soft, warm, delicate, just as every other moment you shared with Wooyoung was, perhaps even more so than the fluffy towels you were wrapped in as you waddled back to your bedroom.

With the blankets draped over your naked bodies, the fresh smell of your body wash encompassing you, and the morning birds singing outside your window, the stress of your assignment melted away as you sunk deeper into Wooyoung’s embrace. His arms – strong and firm around you – held you close against his chest, the steady rise and fall adding to your drowsiness until you finally fell asleep to soft snores and the fresh scent of citrus.

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 1 year

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Hey sorry friend! Here, i will request it separately for you.

Can you make headcanons for taking care of dazai after the prison arc? I feel really really bad for him and i just want to let him sleep and dote on him for weeks.

P.s. he deserves warm food and head rubs and for people to stop talking shit about him. 😭

Reunion with blood and tears

Headcanon: Dazai is reunited with his lover after his escape Dazai x Fem! Reader Masterlist Tysm anon for the request! Hope this doesn't disappoint your heart :)

Dazai Osamu was laughing. That's the first thing he does escaping the prison.

You looked bloody and beaten up badly but nevertheless you came to pick him up (I mean duh, he is the Osamu transferring information through his heartbeat Dazai)

"Osamu, please, I can't even think to loss you again" that's the first thing you would say to him as you hug him tightly, sobbing .

You know this man, despite having the happy shell, even he breaks down crying and in that embrace none of you wanted to separate.

You stared at the exit all covered in blood and wounds but you couldn't care less. Your lover was sent to the prison long ago for the past crimes he did. He was the former port mafia executive, you knew sooner or later he had to pay his deed, but this was a ruthless act.

And in the moment time didn't exist for you as you stared at you lover, so beaten up and broken almost limping to an extent and you couldn't even help him by taking his pain away. All you could do was hug and embrace him in your arms and you wept. Sooner then expected, for the second time in his life, Osamu Dazai cried, because he was relieved to go back somewhere who he could call home.

Now Now, that was one moment you had. Because of this mess created by DOA, the best service you could provide a runaway criminal was your own secret base like home.

The only supply you could give that moment was giving him food and bandages, as he proceeds to bath. He was limping badly and you told him that you could least have the made-up support for him but he brushed of saying it wasn't a big deal.

You then forcefully make him seated on the bed considering his physique screamed broken bones which you couldn't heal.

Dazai was silent all the time, he wasn't eating nor talking and seemed to lost his touch, simply showing his true nature.

You know this was the real Osamu Dazai, the one without the barrier of fake happiness. He already had bags under his eyes as if he never slept, and how fragile and thin he had gotten over the past few months.

"Dazai? Osamu, Darling please eat something, i made you some crab soup you always liked" You would plead as he just stare as you.

"I don't wish to eat right now"

And that was the moment that broke your heart. You know it would be to much for him to intake such a heavy meal so you simply came back with some fruits, cut in bits and you proceed to take a seat next to him and open his mouth.

"I love you babes but if you cant eat, i will have to forcefully make you eat, I don't want anyone to die at me"

You swear you could hear him saying 'kinky', before you proceed to fed him food.

"Good boy Osamu, you finished your food" You said joyfully giving him a head pat as you proceed to keep the dishes in the kitchen.

Head pats, rubs and hugs.... that's what he needs

He wouldn't open up to you fully and you respected his decision.

You finished up everything as you re-bandaged his wounds later at night, which seemed to fallen quiet early today.

Dazai seemed to have gained his energy, and willingly ate up all the crab soup you made.

Currently you were in the bed with him, hugging him so closely not wanting to lose him again. This war was to much. You didn't wanted anyone to die, especially you two but it was your duty, to save people's future even if it meant to destroy your own.

"Hey Osamu, promise me you wouldn't pull any of this stunt again understand? I already lost much and I don't want you loss anyone more" You said as you bury your face lightly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat which could tell wonders.

Dazai pulled you closed, his arms around you and he secures the position, his head above your head, for the first time after his escape he spoke, "Y/N I love you and I promise I wouldn't change it for the world, I wouldn't leave you, I promise"

You looked up to see him sighing with his breathe, as he slowly closes his eyes, letting the darkness wash over him yet again, but this time within the comfort of his lover by his side and it was a sight you would never change it for the world.

'I love you Osamu Dazai' you whisper as you watch him fall asleep, least with a small hinted smile on his face.

Loosing yourself a little, you kissed him on his forehead and then lightly on his lips before embracing him yet again under the covers of your bed with your lover beside you, as you listen to his heartbeat, and you swore you could decode his heartbeat saying I love you too.

Hope this satisfy all those dazai kinnies including anon and me, cus Dazai deserves much more then all this. honestly idk if this directed mainly towards the hc! But dazai fluff is all we need.

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seriesxwriting · 6 months

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Could you write a fic where everyone wants klaus like cami, Hayley, caroline but klaus only wants y/n like and when they get inside his house, cami finds a room filled with paintings of y/n (some even nude) and they realise they'll never have him.

Thank you so much for this request I LOVED the idea and really enjoyed writing it<33.

I want you.

Pairing- klaus x y/n

Series- the vampire diaries/ the originals

Warnings- kissing, swearing, drinking?

Summary- request <3

“Amazing party klaus” Marcel smiled with his hand around Rebekah’s waist. He looked at her and squeezed throwing a smile her way. Her hand reached up to his chest and she returned the smile back at him. Finally happy klaus and him were getting along.

“Must you two flirt around me” he raised an eyebrow drinking from his delicate champagne glass. Rebekah turned around looking around at the crowed. “I don’t see y/n yet, is that why your salty?” She smirked at her brother.

“Salty? Me? Never, she’s simply outside with some of the other girls” he shrugged knowing exactly where she was. “We must have missed her” Marcel told her simply. “Indeed you did and so did I, we haven’t had the chance to speak yet” “why don’t you go and get her, the music will start soon I presume, you’ll want her near so you can ask her to dance” Rebekah tapped her brother on the chest.

He smiled at how well she knew him and she returned the knowing look. Klaus reached his head down to his sister’s cheek and kissed it softly. “Thank you sister”.

——

I was sitting on the benches outside with Hailey, Cami and Caroline sipping our drinks and talking about nothing in particular. The outside seating was quite clever actually as the hall was so crowded with random people and it heated up quite quickly. “I just think red is too bright for a car” Caroline shrugged sipping her drink sitting back on the bench. “My first car was red” I shrugged.

“What type of car was it” “Toyota, it did me a good service” I laughed remembering back to it. “I’m sure it did” hailey giggled catching onto what I was saying. It took a moment but the other two eventually realised and started bursting out laughing. “Was it your first time?” Cami questioned intrigued to know more. “If my first time was in a car I wouldn’t remove it from my memory” I shook my head.

“The cars way too small, my head was hitting the door the whole time” I whispered mid laugh. “Bet it steamed up loads too, must get stuffy” cami raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never done it in a car?” Caroline looked at cami shocked. Even hailey found it to be surprising. “No- and I wouldn’t want to” she laughed. “Who doesn’t want to do what?” Klaus voiced making us all jump out of our skin. He was walking over to us and stood next to where I was sitting. “You startled me klaus!” Cami winned.

“Girl talk klaus, we couldn’t reveal our secrets to you” Caroline put a finger to her lips raising her eyes flirtatiously up him. “You look great- the suit is fitting” cami told klaus bringing his attention to her. “It was on the house” “of course it was, that’s such a klaus thing” hailey spoke.

I watched as the girls tried getting his attention saying literally anything to make him look at them. I sat there in silence watching the show. The way they giggled when he addressed them. Made me feel sick.

His hand fell on my shoulder.

“The real reason I came over was to ask you to dance” he told me staring into my eyes with that famous klaus smile on his mouth. “You- want to dance with me?” I stuttered in shock he’d picked me out of all the girls here. Me and klaus had a complicated relationship. We’d slept together a few times and we’d stop and talk to each other if we bumped into one another but it was a casual thing. I didn’t think he’d choose to dance with me.

“Of course you can have me for a dance, I’m just going to find the restroom and then I’ll look for you” I nodded at him with a little smile on my face. “I’ll be waiting” he took my hand and planted a kiss softly before vamping off back into the party.

“He’s so fucking gorgeous” hailey threw her head back groaning. “Literally heaven sent- god took his time with that man” Caroline laughed. “I’m definitely going to cut in for a dance after” Haliey looked over at me.

She didn’t say it maliciously. It wasn’t condescending, she was just being genuine and letting me know her plans. “Mmm not if I get there first” cami wiggled her eyebrows. “The things I’d do to him if he’d let me”. The girls giggled to each other, making me wonder which one of them would get him. They were all attractive girls each having their own personality and opinions, he’d be a fool to not pick one of them.

“I’m off to the bathroom ladies” I smiled standing up. “Come on girl we aren’t going to let you go in your own” Caroline told me bouncing up from her seat. I tipped the last of drink down my throat before saying. “Great because I have no clue where it is and this house is massive” I laughed as we made our way inside. Us four climbed the stairs taking a left as a gut feeling. “It must be around here somewhere” cami shrugged looking at the mass of doors.

“Try this one” hailey opened one of the doors, but it was just a libary. Full of old books from the ceiling to the floor. “Boring” she slammed the door closed making us laugh. “What about this one” Caroline pulled open the door opposite to it. “Woah- it’s not the bathroom but…” she blinked looking inside. “What is it?” Hailey sped to the door looking inside. Her face became mesmerised and slowly she started walking in. The two girls followed, I felt a bit odd snooping around his house.

It felt wrong. But when I saw what was in the room it felt like privacy didn’t really matter to klaus as much as i thought it did. The room was full of art work, paintings on easels, on the walls, everywhere. They were all of the same thing. Me.

The girls looked at me and I gazed around the room, my eyes were wide in awe. There was portraits, some where I was standing in felids or other dimensions. They were so creative. The ones that caught my attention the most were the nude ones.

I remembered the set I had on in one of the paintings, he’d put me in a position lying me on the bed with a rose in my mouth. They were so creative so extraordinary. He’d only seen my body a few times yet he got it so spot on. The detail and time that had been put into it was incredible.

“Fuck” hailey whispered under her breath as reality sank in. Cami bit her lip looking around the room. Her eyes were sad almost. “Did you pose for him? Did you know he did these?” Caroline asked me quietly.

I shook my head still in shock. “I had no idea about any of these” “they are all of you- every single one of them- there must be over a hundred” cami whispered not even looking at me. “What does this mean?” Hailey turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going to go find out” I swallowed and before waiting for anyone to say something

I was out of the room and running down the stairs. My eyes scanned the room for him and eventually spotted him talking to a large group of vampires.

I ran towards him swerving past people left, right and centre. Klaus noticed me straight away and stopped his conversation. “Why are you running? What happened?” He quizzed with a worried gleam in his eyes. His hand fell to my arm. “Klaus- why’s there a room full of paintings of me?” I pannted under my breath. I asked him straight out not caring for him to judge me. He’d be a hypocrite to cuss me for breaking boundaries or privacy.

He just smiled before moving his hand to my face. “Because I want you y/n” he breathed out staring into my eyes. My heart skipped a beat. It punched me in my chest. My stomach flipped as those words filled my ears. “Me?” I blinked as my chest rose. “You have three beautiful girls pining for you and…” “and I want you” he cut me off shaking his head slightly. “All I want is you y/n”. In that moment I lept towards him, pushing my face onto his.

Our lips met in sync and the hand that was on my arm moved to my hip. Klaus pulled me closer to his body. Softly but passionately kissing me back. “Klaus” I whispered pulling only an inch away and leaning my forehead on his. “I want you”. “You’ve got me” he told me kissing my forehead before placing his back against mine.

His eyes wondered from me to the stair case where hailey, Caroline and cami stood watching us. I turned to look at them. They tried to hide the fact they weren’t happy about us being together but they didn’t do it incredibly well.

In that moment the music switched on. Klaus caught my eye again as people started getting ready for it. “May I take you for a dance m’lady” he smirked putting his arm out. “Of course you can handsome” I smiled linking arms with him. And with that we made our way to the face floor smitten with each other.

Klaus masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

All series masterlist

Masterlist of masterlists

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frenchoravocadotoast · 7 months

Text

Basim Ibn Ishaq headcanons

Basim Ibn Ishaq x GN!reader

Word count: 1003

Basim is an “actions speak louder than words” man. He’s kind of reserved by nature and has spent many years mastering the art of controlling his emotions during his time in Alamut.

That being said, his love language is definitely acts of service.

It starts off small – you both have a passion for literature, a common ground he has yet to realize. He’s talking to Fuladh about a recent poem he’s just read, reciting his favorite lines, when he hesitates at the end. He’s trying to remember the final verse when you jump in and quote it for him, and Basim shoots you an amused look.

“Since when do you enjoy poetry? ”

He tries to surprise you sometimes – he likes to lend you his favorite books, and if you indulge the man, he’ll even rant about his favorite poets/poetesses and their works. It becomes a bonding mechanism between the two of you, and it might look corny to an outsider; but you see how excited Basim gets when you say you liked the book he gave you, and suddenly, it’s like their opinion doesn’t even matter.

When the life of a Hidden One keeps you up at night –whether that be because of a nightmare or a stress-induced fever– Basim keeps you company. He knows the feeling all too well and refuses to leave you alone, unless that’s something you want. He will sneak into your room with a bowl of fruit and a book in hand.

“May I offer you a poem in these trying times”

Boom you’re sold

It’s a secret of his, but he likes writing poetry, too. He’ll die before admitting it though – and anyone who dares read his work will have to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

That being said, he might let you read something here and there (only the poems he’s revised a hundred times), but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone.

You don’t mind. It’s like your little secret anyway.

Despite his preference for acts of service, he’s going to try to compliment you every now and then. You can always tell he’s being genuine, and when you thank him, he grants you a warm smile and a courteous nod.

He’s a very good listener. You could be talking about anything and he’d be listening intently, nodding along and asking questions. And nothing escapes him, really – he’s got an amazing memory and will remember your birthday, your favorite food, the friendly camel you met two weeks ago, or even the day you first saw fireworks.

He remembers that day well. The bright lights were sizzling and popping in the sky as you watched them, transfixed. You’d turned to face him with a big grin on your face, and in your excitement, asked him an obvious question: “Did you see that?”

He smiled and nodded, because of course he did.

He didn’t. He was looking at you.

But besides that, nothing escapes him!

He has a habit of shielding you from the elements. When it’s scorching hot, he hovers his hand over your face to keep the sun from your eyes. When it’s windy, he likes to use his stature to shelter you from the breeze. And on rainy days, he cocoons you in scarves and cloaks to keep you from getting wet.

Basim starts laughing more around you, and you both become incredibly closer. You have so many inside jokes that it’s hard to keep track of them, and perhaps it’s starting to get to the other Hidden Ones too. Roshan just sighs as she watches the two of you because you’re both oblivious fools.

He definitely starts coming out of his shell with time, even dropping a pick up line here and there. The first time it happened it caught you so off guard he panicked and lost all sense of his training in three seconds.

“Well, – Nehal is calling me. I’ll see you around.” and he tailed it out of there, tripping over a vase before regaining his footing and scrambling away.

He wouldn’t approach the subject again, and if you were in his proximity he would be as stiff as a board – until you made a move too. You flirted with him out of the blue and he just widened his eyes and pointed at you.

😳🫵🏽

Things change from there and he tries to flirt more (and he’s so dorky he makes everyone within audible distance groan and leave). You’re organizing the books at the bureau, the one place you probably frequent more than your own home, when he comes in.

“You come around here often?”

You give him a deadpan expression, because he can obviously do better than that, and he grimaces.

“Yeah. No more of that.”

Biggest supporter ever. If you speak another language other than Arabic, he wants to know all about it. He’s a smart man, he can learn a couple of expressions quickly, and pretty soon you’re having simple conversations in your tongue.

That being said, if you cuss someone out in said language he’ll probably try to remove you from the situation. He’s not keen on confrontation, especially with civilians, but if they wronged you in any way, he’d be all like “Yeah, what they said!” “And you better remember it!”

An absolute sucker for forehead kisses. He’s not very fond of PDA but he always kisses your temple when he has to leave or walk past you. It’s a ghostly touch, you almost don’t notice it, but it makes your cheeks flush every time.

Likes to hold your face in his hands and just look at you. It can end with him either smiling and kissing the corner of your mouth (on a good day) or pulling your hood down to blind you and ruin the moment (when he’s feeling a little silly). You call out his name and he just barks out a laugh as he climbs onto the rooftops.

He’s actually a little shit (affectionate) (derogatory)

#assassins creed #assassins creed valhalla #assassins creed mirage #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #ac mirage #ac mirage x reader #basim ibn ishaq x reader #basim ibn ishaq x you #basim x reader #assassins creed loki #assassins creed headcanons #ac mirage headcanons #assassins creed mirage headcanons

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 4 months

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Coffee & Salted Caramel (Dad Best Friend!John Price Dark Romantic Headcanons)

CoD ML

It takes a moment for John to realise it’s you standing in front of him. However, after carefully scrutinising your face under the guise of a polite smile, there’s a spark of recognition in his pretty blue eyes.

In his defence, the last time he saw you was about ten years ago when you were an awkward teen just entering puberty. So little could have prepared him for seeing you now, blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

He doesn’t go in for a hug or a handshake, though it looks like the latter. Nevertheless, as soon as you’ve placed your hand in his, John brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “My lady.”

The dark satisfaction blossoming in his chest due to your flabbergasted expression is carefully concealed behind a cheeky smile. A smile which is easily mistaken as amused, kind.

Without any other implications than friendship.

Picks you up from work if you’re working late and during winter. If you’re working the morning shift and therefore have to be there early, he’ll escort you to make sure you’re alright. At first John tells himself he’s simply being a gentleman, a proper captain. Moreover, he’s doing his best friend a service by keeping his daughter safe.

From men like him.

To keep you for himself.

Your father may or may not have let slip you go to the gym. A comment in which John saw a golden opportunity to get closer to you and reconnect. Or, rather, truly connect.

So you now find yourself three times a week working out alongside your father’s best friend, who kindly picks you up and drops you off after each session.

Who you’ve noticed glaring and sometimes even downright scowling at the other men there. Especially when he’s acting as your personal trainer.

Ngl, he makes for a good workout partner. Of course he respects your boundaries, but gradually tries to push you beyond them. Henceforth, when one week you swear you won’t be able to do a deadlift with 10kg on either side, you find yourself more than capable the next.

Though he’d never admit it, John loves showing off his strength and size. He might be middle aged, but he sure is still as capable, if not more, than in his younger years.

Another thing he’d keep a secret is how you wearing a choker tempts him to submit fully to instinct, play dangerously with the thought of claiming or, rather, owning you.

Frequently takes you out for hikes, picnics (weather permitting), trips around the country, and coffee. Whereas your father regards the outings with his best friend as enrichment because you two don’t get to do that stuff and acts of kindness, John actually sees them as unofficial dates.

Small moments during which he can properly fancy himself your partner.

You sing as a side hustle and have landed a performance at John’s favourite pub. Now, being a good friend to your father and simply being kind, he offers for you to stay overnight at his place. After all, the venue is too far from home to make it there afterwards safely.

Despite being seated in the back amongst the shadows, you feel John’s eyes on you throughout the show. Little do you know he occasionally closes his eyes, shutting out the world to enjoy your voice. It’s a lullaby that temporarily puts the rage seething beneath his skin to rest.

Gets grumpy when a guy approaches you to strike up a conversation after you’re done.

John knows you’re your own person and yet here he is, sulking and brooding over a pint because of a nagging sense he knows is unjustified. For fuck’s sake, you’re his best friend’s daughter! What the hell would you do with a guy his age, damaged beyond repair and haunted by ghosts?

Yet, he stands before you in no time and roughly grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him towards the exit. “On your feet. We’re leaving.”

On the way to his house, his grip remains iron-like regardless of how you struggle, whimper, beg, and try to pry his hand loose. Nonetheless, he remains as quiet, as tight-lipped, as when you ask him about his years in the army. Only when you call out his name with an ugly sob does he let go.

You flinch and step back when he turns around and comes closer, mortified by his fuming expression. John takes a deep breath, wishing he could kick himself in the face now that he finally sees how he hurt you. Moreover, in spite of his own disregard of rules and protocol, this type of behaviour would put any good captain to shame. That is, when directed at a loved one rather than a teammate. “I… I’m sorry.”

“What’s this about?” His gaze remains steady on the ground, even when you come closer to bridge the distance between you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, poppet. Maybe it’s just the pints that get me a bit violent. Drank one too many.”

“John-“

“Let’s go home.” Hands tucked into his pockets, he turns on his heel and starts walking again. He’d hold your hand, but after that little incident he’s too terrified to touch you. More than that, he grows bleak at the thought this or similar incidents which perhaps have yet to occur will eventually lead to you resenting him.

With you, he doesn’t want to be Captain Price.

He wants to be a man rather than a soldier.

A man properly caring for his girl by making sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Trying to sweep the incident on the street under the rug once you’re at his place, John stands in the doorway to the guest room as he watches you rummage in your bag. “Something wrong, love? Forgot your post-concert snack stash?”

You share his smile, the idea of glaring at him evaporated the moment you lock eyes. “Very funny, John.”

“I can make us something, though, if you’re still hungry. I ain’t a good cook, but I think I can manage scrambled eggs on an English muffin. Sober enough for that, at least.”

“I’m alright. Still, thanks. Turns out, I forgot my pyjamas.”

“You can lend a shirt. Let me find one.”

A wee while later, after being occupied a little too long with picking something for you to wear and distracted by the strain in his pants, he returns with a hoodie. He’d rather you be too hot than cold.

“Arms up, doll face.” Without questioning the nickname, you do as he says. His breath hitches as you wriggle into his hoodie, staring up at him with doe eyes.

It takes every ounce of self-control not to pick you up, twirl you around, and tuck you into bed. Say what you will, but beneath the lust there’s the genuine want to take care of you.

Distrustful of his hands, he crosses his arms and nods to the bed. “Hit the hay. I’ll make sure there’s breakfast, so don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you. Goodnight, John.”

He almost breaks, almost reaches out to pat your head to satisfy himself as much as he allows himself. But he doesn’t. “Goodnight, love.”

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you do Pilates in the morning.

He stops in the doorway, frozen in place by fascination and the feeling he hasn’t been able to shake off since seeing you again for the first time in forever. Honestly, seeing you stretch and bend this way and that doesn’t help him think any clearer either. In fact, it only throws him deeper down the rabbit hole created by the fantasy of you pinned beneath him, breathless and whimpering his name as he has his way with you.

And he just dealt with his morning wood before coming downstairs.

As silent as a ghost, John slips back upstairs to calm himself down yet again, only leaving the bedroom when he hears you in the shower.

We all know perfectly well why I had to include this particular gif. And no, I’m not sorry.😝😹

Using the towels he prepared for you last night before dragging his ossified arse to bed.

Breakfast is elaborate with croissants, freshly brewed coffee (and your favourite syrup to put in it, salted caramel), orange juice, bread, jams, yogurt, and fruit. The food extravaganza makes you stop in your tracks to take in the sight.

“Thought I’d surprise you and apologize for last night. I stepped out of line.” John settles down and gestures to the one across from him. “Please.”

You nod, still too flabbergasted by the feast.

After a few moments of eating and drinking in silence, you pose the question which has been weighing heavily on your mind. “Why did you really act like that?”

“Guys like that want nothing but sex with a pretty young thing.” Despite the casual tone, his gruff voice is strained as he pours you another cup of coffee. After adding enough syrup to make it to your liking, he slides the cup towards you. “Besides, I promised your dad I’d watch over you, keep you safe.”

You glance to the side. “Bullshit. Like I’m that pretty.”

“You are. I’m surprised you don’t see how easily you can wrap any man around your finger.”

“Right. Let’s say you’re correct. I still don’t know how to… you know… have… sex.”

“Suppose you haven’t found the right person yet. Someone with the patience to take you through the motions. Who wants to take the time to love you right, map every detail of your body and learn what makes you shiver.” His eyes darken. “Someone with experience.”

Prompted by the way he sees you squirm in your seat and the front you try to put up despite the blush on your cheeks, he stands up to walk over to your side. “Someone who’s loyal. Faithful. Committed,” his breath is hot on your ear as his fingers touch your cheek, finding you pliable, your senses full of his cologne and presence, “to you. Maybe also someone who’s a little older.”

Before you can respond, John’s lips are on yours. His beard feels ticklish, but surprisingly much smoother than you thought it would be. A pleased hum reverberates in his chest when you run your fingers through it.

A lovely sound that turns into a gasp when you push him away, horrified as the truth sinks in. For nothing is more terrifying than common sense.

“I…” you begin, grasping at straws to explain yourself. It doesn’t help your heart cracks at the sight of the sadness in his eyes, badly concealed beneath the mask of the composed and determined captain.

“Y/N-“

“I should go.”

Judging by your tone, John knows he won’t be able to explain himself. “I’ll pack up some food. Have it along the way. A soldier isn’t anything if they don’t have a full stomach.”

“Text me when you’re home.” He can see the fight between confusion and affection rage in your eyes. “So I’ll know you’re safe. It might be broad daylight, but that doesn’t mean nothing won’t happen. Please, Y/N,” the way he says your name with an uncharacteristic plea hidden beneath barely composed sternness makes you waiver. “Just a text. That’s all I ask.”

“Alright.” You pull out your phone, create a new contact, and keep your gaze down towards the screen. “Spill the secret info, captain.”

After a moment’s hesitation, John curls his finger beneath your chin to tip it upwards. There’s a tremble in his hand as he cups your cheek, afraid you’ll pull away.

Change your mind.

And leave him behind.

“Promise?”

You nod, slightly leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

Packed up, the shirt he gave you the first thing to find its way into your bag, and his number in your phone, you silently leave. You know that once you turn around you’ll run right back to him, to what he can offer you. Nonetheless, to avoid problems with your father, you keep walking.

John’s gaze hot on your back, drinking salted caramel coffee.

I might turn this into a proper fic. Ah dinnae ken when or how, but what’s for sure already is that I’ve got plenty thoughts and ideas.😉

#Captain Price #John Price #Captain John Price #John Price x You #John Price x Reader #CoD x Reader #CoD Modern Warfare

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sotwk · 6 months

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Taken (Eomer x Reader) - Part 2 of 3

Part 1 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Eomer is determined to convince the woman he loves of his long-hidden devotion, but the obligations of his new crown and her baseborn origins shake her faith in their future together.

Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you… but just know that it's love nonetheless."

Requested by and Dedicated to: @laneynoir You've probably forgotten about making this Valentine ask, but I remember and write down everything you ask of me! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.9k

Content: Angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Excessive angst? Verbal passion? This is clean but it will do a number on your feels.

To Read on AO3: Link

Tumblr Post for Taken, Part 1: Link

Taken

Third Age 3019 May 2

Minas Tirith, Gondor

PART TWO

“My lord, are you certain it is safe for you to go without a proper escort?”

Eomer cast a taut but amused smirk at Haleth, son of Hama, over the horse they had just finished tacking up together. His new squire, one of the youngest fighters to survive the Battle of Hornburg, had been appointed to the post just very recently, and so still had much to learn.

Eomer dismissed the given counsel that a king needed someone with experience in his direct service, not a novice that required training. He had seen with his own eyes how bravely Hama’s orphaned boy had helped to defend the refugees at the Glittering Caves; in Eomer’s eyes, the child had earned the honor several times over.

“Surely you don’t mean to imply that the King of the Horse-lords is incapable of defending himself on a short ride?”

“No, sire. It is just…” Haleth’s eyes darted about nervously and he lowered his voice. “You ride with a woman. If something were to happen, would you not have to defend yourself and her as well?”

At that, Eomer chuckled. “I commend your gallant instincts lad, but I advise you not to make such an insinuation in the presence of a known shield-maiden. They do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned, and will be quick to set you right.” He patted his squire’s shoulder to show that no offense was taken. “Rest assured that the lady is more than capable of holding her own, and of shielding me from harm if need be.”

The boy need not know that Eomer would sooner die than put her in that position. He had kept that a secret from her and the rest of his Éored for years, although perhaps a little too successfully and to his own detriment.

Riding Firefoot into the white-stone square courtyard that connected the galleries of stables, Eomer quickly saw that she was already waiting for him, standing alert beside her own horse. Greywind, a dappled mare that bore no meager resemblance to her equine brother, tossed her head and whickered softly at Firefoot's approach. It was a warmer reception than his master received.

"Good morning, my lord," the shield-maiden acknowledged with a nod as curt as her tone. Royal protocol satisfied, she turned and swung up into the saddle of her own steed.

Her cold shoulder was to be his comeuppance, then. So be it. Her silent rages were nothing Eomer had not seen, borne, and successfully navigated before.

But today, this time, would be different. Everything was sure to be different after that kiss, which, after a sleepless night of pondering and self-debating, he would still swear on Bema was no mistake. Clumsy perhaps, but an action he did not regret leaping into. There was no part of Eomer that did not desire to repeat it, over and over.

First, he must resolve the confusion his recklessness had caused.

"Follow my lead,” he said, and spurred Firefoot on toward the exit gates.

His command came from habits formed over years of riding together, and so did her immediate obedience. Her loyalty had always been faultless; loyalty to Rohan, loyalty to him. Whenever he called and whatever he asked for, she gave, just as she came to meet him now, regardless of what had transpired between them last night.

This new epiphany that her devotion to him might be encouraged not just by duty, but a love to reciprocate his, still felt like too much to hope for.

They rode side by side down the levels of Minas Tirith, and soon were past the city’s great white walls. At the slightest shift of his master’s weight, Firefoot burst into a full charge down the North-way, rejoicing at the freedom to run across open land once more, an impatience that mirrored Eomer’s own. Next to them, Greywind and rider matched their gait to keep up, and they tore their way for several miles northward into Pelennor.

Eomer’s body sang at the rush of the wind over his skin, through his hair and his cloak that streamed over Firefoot’s haunches. Too long had he been cooped up within the city walls, tethered to the duties of his new office. It still felt unseemly for him to carry the title of King while his uncle had yet to be properly laid to rest among his forebears, but he was determined to serve in every manner his people required.

This involved taking guidance from his newly formed council, who seemed to believe that the first order of business was to reaffirm and restrengthen Rohan's alliance with Gondor. In the weeks that followed the great feast at Cormallen, Eomer spent more time with new acquaintances, lords and ladies from the noblest families of Gondor, than with his own men. His Éored, who had been the rock at his side for nearly the whole of the past year, were granted time to rest and convalesce according to their desires, and every one eagerly embraced the offered leave.

That included her, most painfully and noticeably. Each day that passed by filled with council meetings and formal dinners but nearly nothing of her, had dragged Eomer further into despair. When she finally reappeared for the coronation, dressed the way she was…small wonder that he finally lost hold on propriety the moment he touched her.

In seemingly no time at all, they left it all behind. The high ramparts and looming towers of the grand city turned into a white speck on the mountainside. So far out north into the fields and away from the main road, they had separated themselves from the thousands that had flocked to the city to celebrate the coronation, and retreated into the peace of the vast plains that bore some semblance to their home.

Eomer eased Firefoot into a relaxed pace and she followed suit. Afterward they were blanketed in silence but for the clink of tack and thud of hooves on the long grass finally regrown in the end of Pelennor’s strifes.

One sideways glance showed Eomer that she remained resolved to look anywhere but in his direction. No matter. If she refused to look at him, he would gladly stare at her, and take his fill of what he had been deprived of for weeks.

He had forgotten what a vision she made outside of armor, so long had they lived in battle gear. The gown she wore to the coronation ball had distracted him all evening, but it painted her beauty too foreign. The plain clothes of their people suited her best. On her, the wine-red dress underneath her green Rider’s cloak outstripped any fine silk confection. Her hair, usually held back in tight braids or trapped underneath a war helm, flowed in free waves that tumbled to her waist and made his fingers ache with longing.

To see her in this manner reminded him of what Rohirrim sacrifice had achieved: the end to a life of constant peril, and in its place, domestic bliss. Eomer knew he would be wholly content to look upon her this way forever. And by Bema, by all the Valar that might hear, he prayed that she would let him.

Another mile or two passed in the bleak silence before the skies gave him the opening he needed. The faint drizzle that had lazily harried them gradually intensified into a downpour, and the menacing grey clouds above rumbled a fair warning.

Eomer pointed to a copse of beeches in the distance. “That should suffice for us to wait out the worst of it,” he said, and they directed their horses into the thicket.

After releasing Firefoot and Greywind to find cover and graze at their leisure, they took their shelter underneath the tree with the most generous canopy. As Eomer watched her gather the cascade of her soaked hair over one shoulder, she happened to raise her eyes in his direction and catch his gaze. Her face remained impassive, but she did not look away again. She knew she could no longer delay what he had requested her company for.

“May we speak now?”

The tense lines on her brow softened. “My lord,” she said, in a tone that was almost contrite. “I am here to listen to whatever you wish to say.”

“Good,” Eomer said, and needed one more breath to steady himself. “Good...”

"Long has there been great camaraderie between us as comrades in arms, but in time that deepened into…more meaningful affection.” When she did not flinch at that attestation, he carried on. “After last night, it is clear that we must lay bare the extent of our feelings and finally be open with each other."

Her mouth trembled. “My lord--”

“I love you,” Eomer said. “I recognize no plainer truth than that. I am no bard or scholar, and so it is hard for me to describe what I feel for you...as it would be hard for anyone to explain the glory of the sun or the vastness of the skies. But you must know that it is love, nonetheless."

She remained silent at this, and her clenched jaw told him no response was forthcoming. But he had more.

“These past years, Rohan’s protection occupied all of my waking thoughts. There was no time to consider ambitions for myself. And what need did I have for that, when the sole object of my desires rode in my company to every battle? But after all our years together, I suppose I began to take for granted that you would always be close by, even while I drowned in fear that one sword stroke could separate us forever."

He edged a step closer to her, driven by the mere suggestion of such unspeakable loss.

“When you grew distant after Theodred's passing, I awoke to my folly. I wished to blame your withdrawal from me on your grief, but my jealous mind whispered that my long buried suspicions were confirmed, that you had always desired his devotion over mine. I wrestled with the torment from it, until last night, when you gave me reason to hope again.”

“But..but I did not…y-you had never…” She cut off her own stammering and squared herself determinedly before continuing. “I never found sufficient cause to believe you could care for me so, my lord.”

“The fault is mine for not being forthright with you from the start. I will do whatever I must to remedy that now.” Suddenly they were face to face on the same side of the tree, for she had not thought to dart away from his advances this time. “I would shout it from the very spire of their great Tower if it will end your doubts.”

He reached for her, and the edge of his hand found her chin. Contrary to his bold declaration he repeated, barely above a whisper: “I love you.”

“No,” she murmured back. “Please. You must not say such things.”

“Why not, when it is the truth?”

“Because it is a truth you cannot act on.”

Eomer’s hand dropped to his side as he barked a humorless laugh. “Granted I have not held the role for very long, but that seems a peculiar thing to tell a King.”

“You are the King now, and that binds you to do things according to your duty, not according to your desire.” She lowered her head. “That is the truth that matters, my lord. Love cannot always prevail over everything.”

The familiar frustration marked with dread clawed at Eomer again. “My love for you will prevail over this,” he vowed. “Moreso because it is love returned.”

Only the sound of splattering rainfall followed, and the realization that she was starting to turn away.

“You… you do love me.”

“I do not.”

The ensuing crack of thunder paled against the shock her reply struck in Eomer. She slipped away from his side once more while he fumbled through his recollections of the previous night.

Drunk as he had been on the taste of her kisses, he could not have misunderstood her impassioned outburst. You are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to! He had dissected that precious confession over and over in his head and basked in sweeter hope that he had ever dared to feel about anything.

“I will not accept that. I do not believe it!”

In a handful of strides he overtook her as she fled to the edge of the grove, where the trees stood further apart and exposed them to the deluge.

“What is causing you to deny me? Deny yourself, deny us?!” She attempted to step around him, but Eomer blocked her progress relentlessly. “Is it that misguided belief of yours that I am, in your words, ‘taken’?”

Finally she succumbed and stood in place, cold and drenched and as stock-still as a soldier holding the line. But Eomer found the answer clear on her grimace.

"Do you mistake me for some bull that has been put on the market for the highest bidder? Or believe me so feeble that I have no control over my choice of wife?!"

She stiffened at his rising rebuke and shook her head. “Not just a wife, my lord. A Queen. You must choose the right woman to offer to Rohan as our long-awaited Queen.”

“Marry me and it is done.”

Immediately her eyes widened and her face blanched, as his bluntness finally plowed through her shields. “Oh Eomer,” she breathed, and the return of his name on her lips nearly rendered him as dazed as she was.

He moved to embrace her, but she clutched him by the forearms, guarding her space. He felt her fingers tremble as they dug into the fabric of his tunic sleeves. He thought he might have heard a sob, but in the rain it was impossible to discern the source of the drops slipping down her cheeks.

“I know you are wiser than that,” she told him. “You know Rohan’s political realities, regardless of your distaste for them. Your rise to your uncle’s throne has separated us by a chasm that cannot be bridged.” She sensed his intention to interrupt and spoke even louder. “I am an orphaned stray, Eomer. Theodred’s favor may have rescued me from a life of insignificance, but I am still baseborn by anyone's standards. Yet however lowly I am, I can hold my head up with pride, because I have always known my place.”

“As do I.” Eomer slid his hand up the curve of her neck. “Your place is with me.”

“Yes it is.” Her smile was joyless as she gripped his wrist to keep his obvious desires at bay. “I belong at your side, on the open fields, with a sword in my hand, ready to give my life for you at a moment's notice. You gifted me with purpose, and riding in your company has brought me such honor. Please do not ask me to play a role where I will only fail and return to an object of derision.”

Eomer frowned. “I have only ever loved you. No one else is suitable for me to take to wife.”

She lifted those beautiful eyes to stare dead-evenly at him for the first time in months. “Dol Amroth,” she whispered. “The daughter of Prince Imrahil.”

The sadness in her eyes lifted the fog of ignorance that obfuscated him. He recognized that pain as the very same one that had pierced him each time he watched her in Theodred’s company. The way they smiled at each other, their intimate touches, their freely exchanged affection that made his stomach twist with envy. But he had been wrong in his interpretation of that situation, and so was she on this one.

“What of her?” he said brusquely, pushing aside his full realization of what she was implying.

“One does not have to sit at the council table to see the soundness of your match.”

“There is no match!”

“Then there will be and there should be!” she insisted. “Everyone sees it, and if you tell me you do not, then you have no right to accuse me of denying what is true.”

A low growl rumbled off Eomer and suddenly he was the one to swivel away, rubbing his face and rain-matted beard while he weighed his answer.

“I do not deny that overtures have been made by advisors, both mine and King Elessar's," he said finally. "Lothiriel does seem an obvious candidate to put forward as a consort for the King of Rohan. But that appropriateness has nothing to do with me. Had Theodred survived to stand in my place, they would be pushing her to him. Have I been counseled on the benefits of an alliance with Imrahil's house? Oh yes--with the subtlety of a hammer's blow. But I barely paid heed to that, since all that mattered to me was your opinion on the subject."

"My opinion," she echoed. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her muddied boots for a long moment. "I can offer you what I know. You, Eomer King, will be the greatest ruler the Mark has ever seen. Your rule deserves every opportunity it can claim, and this offer of an alliance with Dol Amroth is one you cannot dismiss. I have heard nothing but praise and approval at the prospect, from mouths both common and noble."

"Princess Lothiriel is young, and beautiful, and beloved. Her blood is of the most distinguished and most powerful house in Gondor. She will give you exactly what you need. What Rohan needs."

She suddenly came forward to cradle Eomer's face between her hands, a touch he had only experienced in dreams until then. Except this was more akin to his worst nightmare. His inner wretchedness must have become evident in his furrowed brow and was too pitiful to ignore. "Moreover she will adore you, if she has not fallen already, for no maiden has ever lived whose heart you cannot ensnare.”

“Do not flatter me in one breath only to spurn me in the next,” Eomer muttered. “I did not ask for you to wax poetic about my future with another woman. I want your thoughts about all that matters. Us.”

“Us?”

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Eomer caught them in time, and held them firm against his chest, as if it could make her feel how consumed his heart was by her.

“Once I might have carried hope for us,” she said softly. “Hope that I could one day be enough, because I knew you cared for Rohan above all else and admired my dedication to our people. I thought perhaps in time, that admiration might grow to love, as mine did so quickly after I met you."

“But it did, it--”

Her hands jerked inside his grip, their next attempt at escape futile. “Any hope I had for us died with Theodred,” she said tersely. “When his charge as the King's heir passed on to you. Let it rest with him.”

The roll of receding thunder brought Eomer back to a distinct memory of that dreadful day at Isen. The raw anguish on her face as she looked up at him with Theodred's head on her lap. Her frightened reluctance at releasing the prince for Eomer to take on Firefoot.

It had rained too when Eomer came to bring her the news of his passing not a day later. Ignoring the heavy downpour, she ran out to meet him as he approached her cottage, and broke down before he could get the words out. He had to lead her back inside and wrap her in a blanket before she caught a chill. She clung tightly to him as he held her for a long while, bewildered by her sobs. It was the only time he had ever seen her weep.

Only then did it dawn on Eomer: it was not just the loss of Theodred that she had mourned.

“Run away with me.”

It burst from his lips without a thought.

“Wh-What? No!” She yanked away from him with such force he was left grasping for empty air.

“Come with me, and let us run away together.” He rushed after her as she strode toward their horses. She already knew his mind, but he also knew hers, and there was nothing left for him to employ to sway her to his thinking. Nothing but this brazen proposal.

“Away to where?!” she cried, without bothering to look his way. She came up to Greywind and seized her saddle pommel, but Eomer’s hand closed around hers, stilling her progress.

“Anywhere. Far enough to take you away from all this--” Eomer swung out his free arm in a gesture as wild as the fervor in his eyes. “Away from everything that is confusing you.”

She started shaking her head vigorously and backing away. “Eomer, no. You are mad!”

“Do not tell me that!” Eomer lurched forward in pursuit, yet knew better than to grab her. She could not lose him out here where there was nowhere to hide. But he would lose her if she shut him out again by refusing to listen.

“Do not tell me I am mad when the only madness is you believing we do not deserve a future together!” Each time he blocked her path, she pivoted in another direction, and he immediately swerved to repeat the dance. “Madness is you rejecting a man who yearns for you more than a mortal heart could possibly bear, clinging to the barefaced lie that you do not feel exactly the same.”

At that, she fell still. In the stillness Eomer realized that the rainstorm had finally dissipated, and in studying her face, he noticed the drops that continued to slip from the edges of her closed eyes, gliding to her quivering jaw.

“You know as well as I that we belong together.” He caught one of the tears with the edge of his thumb, smoothing his finger over her soft, flushed skin. “So let us take the road west and… and just keep riding. Let me take you home. Our people here will follow soon enough, and when they arrive we can meet them as man and wife.”

“Eomer,” she sighed, before falling silent, her eyes still shut. He hoped she would take her time finding ease, so she may really consider his offer. But she responded immediately, too quickly, once again. “We cannot just abandon our obligations.”

“You insist we cannot, but we can. You can do whatever you wish. You just need to decide what that is--"

“No! No, no, no…” The word morphed into whimpers on her lips, an effort to drown him out.

“--and that is all I ask. That you shut out thoughts of all else and answer truly, from your heart." Something in Eomer’s throat tightened, as though an invisible hand had seized his neck and threatened to choke him. He swallowed and persisted with all the courage he could muster. "Will you marry me?"

“No.”

“Please.” It tasted bitter on his tongue, for Eomer son of Eomund had never begged for anything in his life, even as it took the last shreds of pride for him not to fall on his knees in his final bid. “I am asking you for the truth. Your truth alone. Do you want me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bearing the steely determination and battle strength that had won his respect years ago, and in that moment Eomer saw that that inner fire he loved would now crush him.

“No,” she answered. “I do not.”

To be continued in Part 3...

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