Tumgik
#Just them being in love for nearly 3k words
valeovalairs · 5 months
Text
Falling Stars - A Good Omens Fic
A short oneshot, mostly fluff. It’s domestic ineffable husbands at the South Downs, so if you like that you might like this <3
“Well,” He said. “Now we’re on the roof.” He could see his breath in the chill night air.
“Yes.” Aziraphale sat down, and patted next to him. Crowley sat.
“Angel, why are we on the roof?”
Aziraphale leaned against him, “Part of the surprise.”
Crowley raised a brow. “Right, yeah.” There was silence, except for the background thrum of insects and the rhythmic sounds of hearts beating and lungs breathing that their corporations made. Aziraphale hooked an arm around Crowley, and Crowley moved closer still. There was a frosty breeze, and despite not needing it, they both cherished the warmth such closeness brought. He let the silence hang for a little while, before letting his curiosity win as it always did. “What’s the surprise?”
Or, Aziraphale takes Crowley stargazing.
24 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 2 months
Note
Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged
this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!
part of the tattoorry/plugrry world
Tumblr media
word count: 3k
content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Wait, you're being serious?"
Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"
His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend. 
"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)
"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills. 
"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."
She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences. 
"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."
Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."
That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead. 
"What do you mean, the right person?"
"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."
It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more. 
"What about me?" 
"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down. 
"What piercings would look good on me?"
He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her. 
"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."
She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."
"Anything would, you're gorgeous."
"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"
Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."
"Oh, you're being a professional now?"
"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.
"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."
She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.
"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"
"Huh?"
She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"
"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later. 
"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly. 
She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts. 
"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."
He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.
"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils. 
"Of course."
"Would you do it, then?"
Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."
Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."
"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."
"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."
She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose. 
"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."
Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand." 
"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"
. . .
Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.
It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them. 
In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.
"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people. 
And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.
It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes. 
It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.
"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."
"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."
She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek. 
He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.
"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on. 
"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."
"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 
The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly. 
"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"
She nods again. 
"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"
She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh. 
"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it. 
"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"
"Do you do that for every client?"
He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."
She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up. 
"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"
"Not insane."
He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."
She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast. 
"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest. 
It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip. 
"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."
They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples. 
"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"
Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.
"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."
"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"
"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."
He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her. 
"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."
She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now. 
"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."
She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away. 
"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."
Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."
Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles. 
"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."
She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."
"I didn't, I cried the whole time."
He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them. 
"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."
Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?" 
"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."
Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt. 
When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest. 
"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs. 
1K notes · View notes
dottieisdotting · 1 month
Text
Baby Fever C.S.C
requested?: yes @urperfectcinnamonroll07 (go show her page some love too,it's rlly good)
pairing(s): Husband!Choi Seungcheol x afab!reader
genre: fluffy at the beginning and end, smut
warning(s): Bid dick!Cheol, PiV sex,unprotected sex (wrap before you tap,ladies and gents),degrading,praise,breeding,Oral (f!receiving),Seungcheol being a girl dad,
summary: your daughter's ask for another sibling and Seungcheol and you make their wish come true
word count: 3k (LORD-)
A/N: so I kinda went a little over ther board with this one but anyhoo enjoy this Cheo, brainstro of mine and make sure (if you'd like to) like,comment and reblog. make sure you eat,drink and rest,loves Yaha mwah xoxo
You and Seungcheol had the cutest family in the world as some would say. Two wonderful 4-year-old daughters Darae and Cheon-sa, with your looks but Seungcheol’s pout. They were so adorable and had you,Seungcheol and the rest of seventeen wrapped around their little fingers.
Luckily tonight was yours and Seungcheol’s date night so the girls were taken to his mothers. So you sat in Darae’s and Cheon-sa’s shared room packing and playing with them. You helped burp a doll and also put them to sleep . you hear someone clear their throat and look up from the floor,Seungcheol walks in,the girls running to hug him shouting and squealing. His gummy smile and dimples show as he bends down to pick both of them up. 
Their giggles fill the room and make your smile widen, standing up,brushing off your pants, you walk over to your husband and your children. Giving him a pat on the back as you leave the room,a small smirk on your lips. It was now his turn to be dragged to dolls play whilst you got the last of the girls’ things together for a couple nights to grandma’s house.
”Darae,Cheon-sa, c’mon time to go to grandma’s” like clockwork you hear the patter of their feet on the hardwood floors of the hallway running to you at the door. They had huge smiles on their faces,also carrying a stuffed animal each. They sit on the floor whilst they ‘help’ you put their shoes on. Darae says something unexpectedly ”Mama,daddy we want another sibling” your eyes nearly pop out of your head when she says that as they both clap their little hands in union. 
Seungcheol just stares down at you with that all knowing smirk as you nod ”another? Well you'll have to wish very hard at grandmas to see if it can come true” your voice was soft as you were so close to them. You kiss their cheeks and forehead before standing up and kissing Seungcheol goodbye as he goes to take the children to his mothers house.
It was now your time to get ready for your date. You shower and take about  one and a half hours doing everything right to the T. Leaving the bathroom with a robe and a towel,drying your hair, you head to your shared bedroom and sit at the vanity. You start to blow dry your hair,knowing it would take a while. After around 30 minutes it had fully dried and you now were deciding if you should curl or straighten your hair. With 10 minutes of debate to curl your hair and pin it back whilst you do skincare and makeup.
Seungcheol came back and walked into the bedroom seeing you in just a robe doing your makeup.  He walks behind you and tilts your head backwards and leans down pressing a short kiss to your lips. 
You continue on with your makeup, making it perfect whilst Seungcheol goes to get showered and dressed too. He walks into the bedroom, brown hair dripping and a towel wrapped lowly around his hips causing you to see his happy trail and V line.
You couldn't help but stare at your husband through the mirror of your vanity. ”stare much,sweets?” you lower your head,shit, you've been caught. But you couldn't help it, your husband was one fine motherfucker. 
You shake your head and bite your lip and continue to do your makeup as he gets dressed in black dress pants,black button up and a black tie (yk what i'm on about) but he walks out with his shirt undone whilst you were trying to zip your dress on. Your dress was stunning. It was red, ironically Cheol’s favourite colour, a slit ran up the left leg to mid thigh and it was tight, making your body show off all those perfect curves of yours. For shoes you wore your Christian Louboutin red bottoms. A gift from Seungcheol because he missed you during one of his tours with SVT
”Cheol,could you zip me up,baby?” Seungcheol nods and zips your dress up,leaving a small kiss on the back of your neck before he turns you around and wraps his arms around your waist and leans in,kissing your lips leaving you breathless. He pulls away and smirks after seeing your face. He buttons up his shirt as you watch. You spray your perfume and you were done,grabbing your little purse and you walk out of your shared room. 
Seungcheol joins you and wraps his arm around your waist,kissing the side of your neck lightly and leading you to the door ”lets go,yeah. We’ve got a reservation at 8, sweets” he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side door for you, you get in and he closes the door before walking around to the drivers side. God, he looked very hot right now. 
He gets in and buckles up before turning on the engine and reversing from the drive and starts to drive to the restaurant. His hand stayed permanently on your thigh the drive there and when you got there he opened the passenger door and held your hand like the gentleman he is.
 The restaurant itself is quite elegant, the walls and furniture are all carved from dark mahogany wood with brass decorations and accents. The lighting is soft and warm, with several candles lit on each table. The smell of fresh food cooking comes from the kitchen, and the air is infused with the scent of lavender and rose petals. The staff is friendly and attentive, making sure to cater to each customer's needs. The food is delicious and prepared with great care, showcasing the best in local delicacies and culinary arts.
One of the waiters took you over to the table and Seungcheol ordered some wine,he wouldn't drink much since he was still driving home later. 10 minutes later the waiter comes back with two wine glasses and the wine of Seungcheol’s choice. She leaves the table with a smile as Seungcheol pours the wine into the glasses before picking his up and waiting for you to do the same. A soft clink of the glasses before each of them take a sip of it,bodies relaxing as this indicates they were definitely kid-free now
They order their meals and eat with little stories of their girls,and family. You also mention that Darae wanted another sibling subtly and he raises his eyebrow and smirks slightly,nodding to the subtle comment. You finish your food and dessert and after Seungcheol pays the bill and buys another bottle of wine for the house, you get to driving home.
At home, it was peaceful,for once it wasn't a mess of girls' toys everywhere. It was quiet too,no screaming,screeching and crying for once. You slip off your heels whilst Seungcheol walks to the kitchen,pouring some wine into 2 wine glasses he got from the cupboard. He sees you walk to the kitchen island next to him and he smiles,kissing the crown of your head softly. ”hi sweets” he smiles,showing his cute dimples. You couldn't help but smile ”Hi Cheol” you reach to take a glass of wine,bringing it to your lips and sipping on it before it goes back onto the kitchen island. 
Seungcheol grabs your hips,pulling you towards him. ”sweets? Dance with me please?” you nod as yours and Seungcheol’s wedding song plays softly through the speakers. You smile and think back to the wedding,the memory still so fresh in your mind as Seungcheol spins you carefully before kissing your lips tenderly.
You kiss back,your hands lace in his hair tugging ever so slightly, he lets out a low moan as you feel yourself becoming wetter with every move he makes. He pulls away,lips a little more red. ”fucking hell, c’mon sweets lets give them another,hm?” you knew it wasn't an actual question because he knew the answer already. You nod and lean in again,bringing his and your lips together into another kiss,this one longer,more passionate with a hint of need.
His hands wrap tightly around your waist pulling your body causing you to almost grind against him. You moan into the kiss as his tongue passes your lips. It swirls around yours as he occasionally sucked your tongue. You break the kiss for some air ”i want another” you say breathless,chest heaving ”give me another,Cheol please”  he nods and throws you over his shoulder,slapping your arse for good measure and walking to your shared room. 
You bite your lip as you get to the room,the door is kicked open and you are thrown on the bed, you look so helpless,so needy,all for Seungcheol. He turns you over,zipping your dress down and taking it off you and throwing it somewhere in the room. He leaves you bare only in laced underwear. 
Seungcheol kisses up your legs ghosting over your sex and continues his kisses up your body,slightly biting and sulking little marks everywhere.
He gets up from you and undoes his dress shirt, his muscles showing, it had you almost drooling. His happy trail makes him look hotter. 
He kneels on the floor,grabbing your legs and pulling your hips to the end of the bed. Your cunt level to his face, an obvious wet spot takes up the middle of your underwear. Seungcheol licks his lips, he wants you so badly. His fingers long and thick hook around your underwear, his mind telling Jim just to rip them,but he couldn't. If he ripped that pair, that would mean he had ripped at least 6 pairs of your underwear in the last couple months.
He was nice enough tonight since he had bought you the pair for the date after all. So finally he pulls down your underwear,throwing them over his broad shoulder. He blows hot air onto your clit making you shiver and whimper slightly. He smirks again,standing up. You whine at the loss,wanting him to eat you out.
He laughs softly at how needy you have become. He reaches over to grab a pillow  giving you a soft peck on the side of your face as he does so. He taps your hips twice signalling you to lift them so he could place a pillow so he could eat you out better. ”hips,sweets,lift em’ for me” so you listen and lift them,the soft pillow slides under and you get comfortable . ”Why aren't you a good girl? Keep listening and I'll fill you sweets , so deep, make sure you will carry my child again.” 
Another thing about Seungcheol is that he had mastered dirty talk to the T and it was perfect. The right amount of praise and degradation was mind-blowing. It got you off so well. He loved the way your body reacted to his voice,his touch. You didn't know but it made him all fuzzy brained, he truly loved you so so much and he was an acts of service guy so he'd fuck you any time anywhere. 
He kneels back down in between your legs, hooking them over his shoulders,the pillow giving you extra leverage so your sex is closer to his mouth. ”c'mon sweets, pull me to where you need me so badly. Oh baby you're dripping” you take your shaking hands and lace them in his brown hair as his dark eyes stare up at you. You tug on his hair,pushing his lips to your clit making you moan in relief. He sucks at your bundle of nerves making your legs clench around his head. Seungcheol had always said that he would die a happy man if it was in between your thighs,fucking you with his tongue and his fingers.
He continues to suck at your clit,occasionally nipping at it making your hips jump as he smirks against your pussy. You tug on his hair letting the moans tumble from your mouth with no shame, you didn't have to be quiet plus Seungcheol liked your moans and whimpers,it showed him how you liked it. His tongue enters your heat quickly,licking all your juices making him moan lowly in delight as you get louder,coil in your stomach tightening every lick. You keep tugging at his hair,pushing him further into your sex, his nose hitting your clit beautifully. You back arches off the bed,toes curling as you moan out a mantra of just Seungcheol, his name rolling off your tongue as the coil is ready to snap. ”g-gonna cum,fuck… please,Cheol”  he hums in approveal as the coil snaps and your orgasm wracks through your body. But that doesn't stop Seungcheol, he keeps going,suckking and licking your release as he helps bring you back down. He carefully removes your thighs from his head as he kisses them gently,the aftershocks of your orgasm still running through your veins.
He loved you like this. All spread out on the bed,fucked out from only one orgasm. His smug look sits on his face as he knew he was the only one that could make you like this. He leans down and catches your lips in a messy makeout. Your hands go to his pants,trying to undo them whilst staying in the kiss. You undo them and tug them down,leaving Cheol to handle the rest as you break the kiss to breathe.
You lay back further on the bed as he rids himself of his dress pants and boxers, his cock hard and red tipped leaking with pre-cum. You spread your legs, your arousal dripping onto the pillow below. ”aw,poor sweets, so needy. You wanna be filled don't you? Stuffed full till you're pregnant with my kid again,hm?” All you could do is nod and mewl his name. That stupid smirk on his face again as he tugs at himself before lining his cock to your entrance. He teases you by only entering the tip making you clench around him ”Cheol,please” you beg for him just to take you but he continues to tease by only fucking you with his tip. 
You sit up slightly and hook your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you as you leave small pecks around his neck and jawline. You roll your hips as he pushes in further bottoming out as his head falls into your neck. He leaves you,still, to get used to the feeling of his cock in you after some time you simply whisper ”move,cheol-ah” and he experimentally rolls his hips as your head falls back,exposing your tits and Seungcheol takes the opportunity to move his head,mouth sucking at your nipple making you lift your head in surprise as his thrusts continue. ”fuck! Gonna breed you so well, sweets. Gonna fill you up so much,nice and deep with my cum. Give you a kid, give you my kid”
His mouth got dirtier and dirtier and you couldn’t help but to respond to it ”fuck yes! Please! Give me another,w-want your kids cheol” his hand grabs your jaw and forces your head down,making you look at the bulge in your stomach from his cock,hitting your g-spot effortlessly. Your eyes were filled with tears as the second coil in your stomach tightened once more. Seungcheol speeds up, thrusts becoming a little sloppy as he nears his climax too. 
One particular hard and deep thrust has you seeing stars as you cum. Your body is exhausted as you lay down. Seungcheol keeps his thrusts going as your legs tremble, he grabs one of your legs and hooks it around his waist. All you could do was moan and shake. Not long after you feel Seungcheol come,spilling his release deep inside of you,filling you up. His hips continue to move,fucking all the cum back into you,not missing a single drop, not letting it go to waste.”there we go,keep it nice and deep for me sweets, do that for me” 
Seungcheol carefully slips out of you,you whine at the lost sensation. ”I know sweets, I know but we gotta clean you up. I'd love to stay inside you all night,but not tonight” he says that with a small pout as he toddles off to the bathroom, butt-ass naked as you couldn't help but stare. Admiring your husband’s ass and back muscles, also the tattoos that sit at the top of his neck. 
He comes back, coming over to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. You squeal as he laughs carrying you over to the running bubble bath. He gently places you down on the floor,holding your waist as you steady yourself. You stare down at you like you're the only one in existence to him ”God, I'm so in love with you” Seungcheol leans down and kisses you gently before helping you into the bath,filled with bubbles of your favourite scent. 
”I love you too,Cheol. I swear on it. Till death do we part” you make space for him to get behind you in the bath as you relax onto his chest,interlocking your hands with his and resting them on your stomach. ”Maybe the girls will get a sibling after all” you say softly as the scent of the bubbles fill your nostrils and you almost fall asleep,being all exhausted due to the ‘session’ you and Seungcheol just had.
”I really do hope we have another little boy,but another girl wont be so bad. I've already got you,Darae,Cheon-sa and Kuma. i think and i pray to the universe that it will be a baby boy,hopefully,sweets”
A/N pt2: thank you to all those lovely people who have got my stories/imagines to over 200 likes, it's actually mental that it would happen but thank you. good night and good morning. I rlly hoped you enjoyed this piece of mine and more is incoming soon xoxo
505 notes · View notes
shadowtriovibes · 8 months
Text
something wretched about this, something so precious about this
Tumblr media
Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC
Word Count: 3k
Rating: E
Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), PIV sex, language kink, parseltongue kink
Summary: request: "mc finds herself absolutely taken with Ominis and his parselmouth." aka mc is absolutely taken with ominis' mouth in every sense of the word
“But you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” he counters, curious. “N-no,” you whine. « I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it, sweetheart? » he hisses. « You’re a troublesome little thing, you hardly listen to me when you can understand. »
The first time you heard Ominis speak Parseltongue, you’d found it to be almost antithetical. It had sounded so bizarre coming out of his mouth, so different from the gentlemanly manner in which he most often spoke. Yet the strength of his snakelike voice sounded somehow familiar, and the way his sighing, hissing words wrapped around you felt like sinking into a warm bath.
“It worked!” you’d exclaimed, hoping your voice wasn’t trembling. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”
Minutes later you’d writhed on the floor in unimaginable pain and all thoughts of Ominis’ potentially disreputable talent had flown from your mind. In fact, you’d been so rattled from being on the receiving end of the Cruciatus curse that it took several days for you to recall that you were no longer the sole member of your little trio with a rare gift.
A month later you’d asked Sebastian about it while you were studying for Charms, lazily levitating stacks of books while he had been pouring over Salazar Slytherin’s spellbook.
“What does being a Parselmouth mean?” you asked him curiously.
“Means you can talk to snakes,” he replied, half listening. “Understand them, too.”
You rolled your eyes. “I know that, thanks.”
Sebastian looked up from his book with a skeptical expression on his face. “Then what exactly are you asking?”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, I just… Ominis made it sound like it was a bad thing, to be known as a Parselmouth. Like it’s given him a bad reputation. Why is that?”
Carefully closing his spellbook, Sebastian sits back and considers his words carefully before continuing.
“Well, the answer to that is right in front of you,” he says, gesturing to the tattered book on the table before him. “As Ominis said, most Parselmouths are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, and whether it’s warranted or not, he’s a controversial figure.”
“Sure,” you agree. “But… does Ominis speak Parseltongue much? How would anyone even know?”
“I think most people just assume,” Sebastian replies with a shrug. “His brothers spoke it, and he’s told me that they speak it more regularly at his home. Many Gaunts have chosen to keep a snake rather than an owl or any sort of conventional animal.”
You nod slowly. “Have you heard him speak it before that night in the Scriptorium?”
“A handful of times,” he admits. “Sometimes he’ll slip up if he’s especially angry or frustrated. I’ve also heard him speaking it in his sleep on occasion.”
Eventually, the conversation shifts to the spellbook and you once again forget about Ominis’ rare skill – this time for nearly two years.
By your seventh year, Ominis has learned about your ancient magic abilities, and your friendship has grown from one of rueful kinship to genuine affection. Nevertheless, he still seems to keep so much of himself guarded, even as you’ve shared so many of your worries and insecurities as you’ve grown into your role as the only living Keeper of your ability.
(It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen achingly in love with him along the way.)
These days you spend most nights studying with him and Sebastian. Usually, you’re eager to soak up the years of knowledge they’d accrued before you’d started school at Hogwarts, but tonight you find yourself distracted.
“Are you listening to me?” Ominis suddenly snaps, and you glance up from where you’d been reading the same paragraph over and over.
Ominis looks annoyed, and to his point, you certainly hadn’t been listening. You’ve both been sprawled out on the floor of the Undercroft for hours now revising for Potions. Sebastian had called it a night shortly before dinner, leaving the two of you to continue pouring over theory textbooks in preparation for Professor Sharp’s famously lethal end-of-term exams.
“Y-yes, sorry,” you stutter. “What were you saying?”
In your defense, winter has arrived in the Highlands and the stone floor of Ominis’ hideaway has cooled you to the bone. The weak flame flickering beneath your shared cauldron isn’t enough to pull you out of your daydreams about a nice warm bed, some cozy blankets, and perhaps someone to share it with…
(Someone who can whisper secret serpentine words against your skin, chasing your goosebumps lower and lower beneath the covers…)
“Again?” Ominis asks, more disappointed than angry this time. “You can’t focus on my words for a full minute before slipping into some reverie?”
Merlin, if only he knew that focusing on his words wasn’t the problem at all.
“I’m sorry, Ominis,” you whine. “But it’s getting late, it’s freezing down here, and we missed dinner…”
“You said you’d help me,” he reminds you, perhaps a bit vulnerably. “The exam is tomorrow afternoon, and my Draught of Living Death is still curdling.”
You groan pathetically and rub your eyes. “Ominis, you’re a dear friend, and I simply adore you, but you’re bloody rubbish at Potions. Perhaps we should take a break for the night.”
Ominis’ jaw clenches while he stirs his (admittedly lumpy-looking) brew.
“Ominis?” you ask hesitantly. “...I apologize if I was harsh, but–”
“Don’t,” he interjects. “Just… stop talking. Clearly, you’re no longer interested in helping me, so you might as well go back to your common room for the night.”
Sighing, you shift closer to where he sits cross-legged on the stone floor and gently rest a hand on top of his knee. You know how challenging Potions has been for him, especially lately; N.E.W.T.-level draughts are challenging enough when one can confirm that the brew they’ve already spent hours preparing has progressed to the appropriate color.
“I think you need to take a break,” you say softly. “You’re making yourself too frustrated, Ominis.”
You watch as a bit of the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders seeps away as his head hangs gently. As his fingers nervously twitch in his lap, he takes a slow, measured breath and lets his eyes fall closed.
« I need to do this correctly, even just once, » he says. « Then I’ll be able to sleep. »
You suspect he doesn’t even realize he hadn’t spoken English until you sharply pull your hand back with a gasp.
“Wh-what… did I, um,” he stammers. “I didn’t… say that the proper way, did I?”
“Well, er – you hissed it,” you say carefully. “That… that was Parseltongue again, wasn’t it?”
Ominis carefully nods. Your stomach clenches when you notice him hunch in on himself as if he’s ashamed of what he’s done.
“It’s okay!” you quickly tell him. “I, um. I haven’t heard you speak Parseltongue since fifth year, and – and I don’t understand it, obviously, b-but it’s alright if you want to use it.”
You trail off lamely and try to rest your hand on his knee once more, but he nudges it away.
“I apologize,” he says hollowly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
A wave of nausea rolls over you as you watch him duck his face and turn away from you – not so that he can’t see you, mind, but that you won’t see him.
“Omins,” you sigh. “Please, you – you haven’t scared me, I promise you.”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” he counters in a deceptively soft voice. “I can tell, you know. Your heart is racing, you’ve gone warm all over… You want to run away. It’s only natural, when one is frightened. I would know.”
You swallow audibly and once more attempt to rest your hand on his thigh, and this time he allows you.
“I’m not scared,” you insist, and as true as your words are, you almost wish you were lying to him.
You think it’s probably less shameful than the truth, which is that Ominis’ brief Parseltongue outburst has your heart racing with desire, not fear.
“Then why…?” he asks before eventually trailing off.
“I find it fascinating,” you tell him softly as you trace your fingertips along the seam of his trousers. “It’s… compelling, Ominis. Perhaps a bit enticing.”
“Enticing?” he repeats softly. “You feel, er.. compelled by my Parseltongue?”
You shyly shrug before remembering a non-verbal answer won’t suffice. “I suppose I do.”
The both of you are silent for several long moments. The only sound that can be heard in the Undercroft is Ominis’ sickly bubbling potion, until he finally asks you, “May I kiss you?”
You hesitate for merely a beat, just to let your mind catch up, but before you can answer Ominis repeats himself in Parseltongue: « May I kiss you? »
This time, your non-verbal answer of crawling astride his lap and kissing him yourself is entirely sufficient.
Ominis moans into your mouth while you grab the lapels of his uniform shirt, brazenly rocking against his lap like one of those wanton witches in Sebastian’s rather foul romance novels. His hands settle on your hips and he helps you grind down onto him until you can feel for yourself where he’s grown hard.
“Wh-what are we doing?” he asks against your lips.
He doesn’t sound scandalized, or even hesitant – rather, he sounds like he’s asking how much you’re going to let him get away with.
“Whatever we want,” you answer him breathlessly. “Ominis, I – I’ve wanted this for so long, we’ll do whatever you want.”
« Whatever I want? » he hisses, and you shiver in his lap. « What I want is to get you on your back for me, sweet girl. »
Carefully, Ominis tips you from his lap back onto the freezing tile, but just as quickly he gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re sprawled out on some abandoned Potions notes. Your skirt falls halfway up your legs and Ominis traces his fingertips along your skin until he finds the hem.
« Spread your legs for me, my love, » he hisses, sliding his hands up the insides of your thighs. « Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you here? »
His unseeing eyes flutter closed as his fingertips brush against the hem of your undergarments. You’re wet – you have been since he’d first slipped into those low, hissing tones of his – but now he knows it. He can feel it.
“Gods,” he groans. “You.. you really like to hear my Parseltongue this much?”
“It’s your voice,” you whimper, grinding your hips toward his teasing fingertips. “You… you sound different.”
“Tell me,” he demands. “How do I sound?”
Realizing that he likely sounds the same to his own ears even when speaking the ancient snake language, you bite your lip and force yourself to focus.
“You – you sound powerful,” you admit. “Like your voice is stronger, or… it’s like I can hear it in my whole body, not just my ears.”
Ominis wordlessly rewards you by firmly dragging his thumb down the length of your core through your panties. You melt into his touch; your skin feels as if it’s on fire now, and the very same icy stone floors you’d complained about not long ago now feel like a soothing balm against your skin.
“But you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” he counters, curious.
“N-no,” you whine.
« I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it, sweetheart? » he hisses. « You’re a troublesome little thing, you hardly listen to me when you can understand. »
You whimper and arch your back. “I m-might not understand Parseltongue, but I can tell when you’re teasing me.”
“Darling, I’ve barely begun to tease you,” he murmurs before leaning down and licking up the length of your body from your navel to the dip between your collarbones.
“Please, Ominis,” you beg.
« You’ve been distracting me all evening, » he continues. « I fully intend to have just as much fun playing with you, since you seem to enjoy driving me mad. »
While he kisses what’s sure to be an impressive bruise onto the side of your neck, Ominis slides your panties down your legs.
“I want you inside me,” you confess.
« You want the first time I take you to be on this dirty stone floor? » he asks lazily. « Are you that desperate to be fucked, sweetheart, or have I made you wait too long and driven you mad? »
You groan frustratedly as he starts to kiss his way down your body, pointedly ignoring your canting hips. “Ominis, I’m begging, please say you’ll touch me.”
Ominis presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your hipbone. « Don’t fret, my love. How could I refuse such a tempting offer from such a beautiful, albeit slightly mad woman? »
By the time he traces the tip of his tongue along the crease of your hip, you realize where he’s headed. An irreverent array of babble spills from your lips while you attempt to grind impossibly closer to his face, but he places his hands over your hips and keeps you firmly planted against the stone floor before he presses his tongue flat against your cunt.
If he were still speaking Parseltongue into your skin, you’d never know. Any words of praise or kindly teasing that spilled from his lips were drowned out by a litany of curses you’d never utter in front of a man like Ominis in any other setting.
“That’s it, my lovely girl,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh. « Your cunt is so wet for my tongue, and it’s even sweeter than you are. »
He’s switching between English and Parseltongue so easily that you can’t be sure he’s even doing it on purpose anymore, and you couldn’t possibly say which you prefer more. Being fully aware of every filthy word he says is a dream, but is it as delicious as not knowing what he’s saying as he utters secret confessions inches from your skin?
You don’t bother spending much time considering it while you lie back and let him lick you open. All you can think about is his tongue on your skin, pushing inside you, savoring every inch of your body while he learns you by touch and by taste.
That’s what he’s doing, after all – learning you. He’ll get you off, of course he will, but that’s not why he’s bent over between your legs with your calves thrown over his shoulder.
“Ominis,” you groan. “I need you in me, I… I need you.”
He presses a deceptively sweet kiss to your sensitive clit before he asks, “Is that so? I thought you liked my Tongue, and now it’s not enough for you?”
“Don’t tease me,” you plead. “I know you want me just as badly.”
While Ominis had been coming up for air between burying his face between his thighs, you’d been able to see just how affected he is – you aren’t alone in your eagerness, you can be sure of it.
« Right as always, you are, » he hisses. « Perhaps you don’t understand my words, but you can sense my desire, can’t you? »
He grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh to punctuate his words and you whine pathetically.
“Take me, take me, take me,” you chant while he sits back to undo his trousers and push them down just enough to free himself. You realize he intends to stay fully clothed while he takes you apart, and you shiver against the cold floor.
When he finally sinks inside, you fall helplessly silent.
Every ounce of focus you have is spent on relaxing your body, opening up for him as he buries himself inside you. He’s almost ruthless in his endeavor to fully seat himself in you despite his intimidating length. Save a few breathless not-quite-whines, you’re quiet beneath him.
« Nothing to say, darling? » he hisses at first, and then in a softer voice he asks, “Are you alright? Am I hurting you?”
“N-no, it’s good,” you moan. “Please… keep talking to me.”
“You want me to talk to you, hm?” he asks, grinding in until the flat part of his pelvis brushes against yours. « Do you need a distraction? You’re taking me so well, my angel. »
He starts to fuck you in earnest with a slow, careful rhythm to keep your bare skin from catching along the worn stones beneath your back. As he thrusts inside you, he keeps talking in that low, hissing tone. Soon you realize even his words match the rhythm of his body, rising and falling with his motions.
« Feels so good… Waited so long… I can’t stop, please don’t ask me to stop… »
His back feels feverishly warm to the touch while you drag your hands down from his shoulder blades to the back of his hips. In the years since you’d first heard the snakeline sound of Parseltongue fall from his lips, he’s grown taller and his musculature has changed into that of a lithe, well-built man. Now the strength of that voice suits the body from which it emanates, and both have combined to keep you firmly pinned to the floor beneath their might.
You cling to him as he fucks you harder. You feel so close already, tumbling toward the edge of pleasure beneath him as his serpentine words glide across your skin.
When you come around him, you hear him whisper your name in Parseltongue – it’s the same, you think, but softer, and sweeter.
« When I come inside you, » he hisses just above a whisper. « I want you to keep every last drop inside for me. Will you, my darling? »
“Ominis!” you wail.
“Fuck – fuck,” he gasps, and seconds later you feel the mess he's made inside you threaten to spill out with every slow, greedy thrust in his post-orgasmic haze.
“N-no, stop,” you whimper, and he immediately goes still.
“What is it?” he asks, his English crisp and clear.
You shift shyly beneath him and whisper, “Don’t… don’t keep going. I want to keep it inside for now, and – and when you move, it, um…”
Merlin, you don’t have the words to say you’re just as greedy as he is – you want to stay full of him, just as he’d asked in that ancient, indecipherable tongue.
Ominis presses soothing kisses to your face while you wrap your legs around his waist to hold him in place. His lips brush across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the curve of your jaw.
“Of course, darling,” he whispers. “I’ll stay right here.”
Then, with his lips pressed to yours, he hisses, « I’ll stay right here as long as you like. »
2K notes · View notes
cheolism · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
chasing sleep
✿ sung hanbin x reader ❀ summary: you are so tired but are unable to sleep. your adoring boyfriend, sung hanbin, takes it upon himself to help you out. ✿ wc is approx. 3k ❀ genre: smut, established relationship ✿ warnings: minors do not interact. pet names (princess, angel, baby, etc); oral (fem receiving), fingering & handjobs. ❀ rating: 18+ ✿ tagging @seokgyuu
Tumblr media
you couldn't sleep.
you should have been able to. you were exhausted from having gotten up early and being on the move all day, dealing with coworkers and bosses and staring at screens. you weren't hungry either, tummy full from the meal you and hanbin had shared.
the room was cool but you were warm beneath the covers, the natural heat of hanbin's body warming you. he was on his side of the bed, his tattooed arm up from underneath the covers and curled around his bed. you watched him sleep for a while, his natural blush coloring his cheeks and dark lashes fluttering.
it wasn't like you were too energetic, wasn't like you weren't comfortable. you felt tired and felt at home.
but you just couldn't fall asleep.
sighing, you flipped onto your side and stared at the wall. you kicked your feet softly from beneath the covers. you fluffed out the blanket, retucking it around your shoulder.
eventually you reached out and grabbed your phone off of the bedside table. your phone proudly boasted it being midnight, the screen bright and piercing against the dark of the room.
you shifted onto your tummy, placing your phone on the bed. one of your feet rested against a calf. your toes poked out from underneath the blanket.
for a while you browsed on your phone, switching between apps constantly.
then an arm was sliding along your back, fingers slipping underneath your shirt to rest at your hip. hanbin was warm and gentle as he slid against you, lining his body against yours. his leg naturally hooked over yours, chin resting on your shoulder.
"princess,"' he cooed. his voice was slightly hoarse from sleep. hanbin hummed slightly, shifting against you again. "what are you doing?"
"can't sleep," you returned. you turned your head to look over your shoulder at hanbin, nose brushing his. his black hair was flat against his head, bangs nearly obscuring his eyes. hanbin gave you a sleepy grin, though he raised his dark brows at you at your reply. "sorry. i didn't mean to wake you up. i can go to the couch so i won't be bothering you."
hanbin whined. "nooo, baby." he pressed his nose against your cheek. hanbin ran his hand up along your hip, nails slightly scratching your skin. "no leaving the bed. 's so warm 'n comfy."
you grinned back at him, turning your phone off and reaching to toss it back onto the bedside table. you turned to face hanbin, tucking your arm underneath your head. "i really didn't mean to wake you up."
"princess," he chided, voice soft and gruff still. hanbin smiled at you, eyes crinkling. "you're fine. if you can't sleep i want you to wake me up."
"well," you said, "i definitely won't be doing that."
he sighed, shifting closer. hanbin tossed his leg back over you. he reached out with one hand, sliding his fingertips along your cheek and tucking some of your stray hair back behind your ear. "i want to be someone you can rely on, angel."
"i do," you protested. "i rely and trust you so much. but you deserve to have a good night's sleep even if i don't, you know."
hanbin huffed again. "wanna do everything with you," he said. his breath was warm against your face. "my whole life is yours, princess. when you're asleep or awake, when you're at work or you can't sleep. i'm yours, baby."
you were dumbstruck. being hanbin's princess meant you were on the receiving end of his sincere words more often than not, but that didn't make it easier to hear them. his sincerity was completely genuine, his heart pure and devout. sometimes you couldn't believe it; couldn't believe you were on the receiving end of such pure love and adoration. his words touched your heart and warmed it, made you shine from his love, but at the same time you just couldn't help but be astounded by it.
astounded by how easily he gave his love, how freely.
"okay, okay," you mumbled, looking down at his pink mouth. he was wearing a tank top and it hung from his body loosely, and when you flicked your eyes down you could see his tattoo across his collar and his collar bones. "let's try and sleep now."
hanbin hummed, eyes sliding shut. "okay. try and sleep, princess. i love you."
you murmured it back, closing your eyes. hanbin burrowed next to you, face turned down towards the mattress. you aren't sure how long you tried to sleep, but before you knew it your eyes were sliding back open once more.
you still couldn't sleep.
slowly, as to not disturb the leg hanbin had thrown over you, you turned back over to face the wall. you contemplated grabbing your phone again.
but then, just like before, an arm was moving over your body and hanbin was pressing against you. he spooned up against your back, his chest pressed against you. the entire front of him was against you, knees tucked behind your legs and arm over your body.
"princess," he scolded gently. "i know you're not going to grab your phone again."
"i can't sleep," you whined, pouting into the dark. hanbin pressed his face against your hair. "just gonna grab my phone and go to the couch."
"nooo," he said, voice breaking slightly. "let me hold you and see if that helps."
sighing, you relented. hanbin settled, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. his body was warm, the heat of it sinking underneath your own skin and bringing out a small sweat. you weren't uncomfortable, though.
his arm was a comfortable weight across your body, his hand gently splayed over your stomach. you were so fucking relaxed in his arms, safe and loved.
but you couldn't sleep.
hanbin sighed against your head when you began shifting again, his hand gently moving over your skin again. slowly his long fingers dipped to the waistband of your pants. you went completely still, breath catching in your throat.
his fingers went to your underwear band. "this okay, princess?"
you nodded, biting down on your lip in anticipation. hanbin hummed, thumb tapping against your skin. "come on, angel. answer me."
"yes."
and so hanbin pushed his hand further into your pants. he didn't slip his hand underneath your underwear, and instead his skimmed over your mound and dragged along your cunt through your panties, his touch sending a tingling sensation through your cunt.
every single part of your body was focused on hanbin's hand and how it moved against you. his long fingers smoothed along your pussy through the panties, drawing warmth and wetness from it.
hanbin repeatedly rubbed his fingertips along your clit and cunt. your pussy pulsed, juices soaking your panties. he wasn't hurried, stroking your pussy languidly, gently.
you grew antsy, however. you pressed back against him, feeling his dick against your ass, and reached down and wrapped your hand around his wrist. "binnie . . ."
hanbin chuckled into your neck. his lips skimmed against your skin, and when he spoke you could feel the shape of his words. "okay, princess. 's okay, baby. binnie's got you."
and so he pulled at your panties, pushing them aside and moving his fingers to your wet pussy. his breath shuttered against your skin as he comprehended how soaked you really were from him just stroking you through your panties.
"your little pussy's so wet," he mumbled, voice deep in your ear.
hanbin shifted, gently pushing you so you were flat back against the bed. he tossed the blanket back, baring your bodies to the cool of the room.
he pulled at your pants, and once they were pulled down around one of your ankles he brought your leg over his shoulder. hanbin's hand returned to your panties, smoothing and dragging along your pussy. he rubbed his fingers against your cunt, harsh and pulling, making your toes curl and breath shake.
"binnie --"
"i got you, angel," he said. hanbin tugged down your panties, and you shifted a leg to allow him to pull them off. once your entire bottom half was bare to the room you couldn't help but shiver. your cunt was so hot and the room was cool, and your pussy juices were wet and they cooled immediately against you once you spread your legs.
"cutie," hanbin murmured. his hands went to your pussy and then he was spreading your lips. you shivered, legs tightening around him. hanbin ducked down his head and pressed a flat kiss to your cunt.
you couldn't help but flinch with surprise, a little squeal escaping your lips. "hanbin!"
he laughed at you, eyes crinkling at the corners while warmth shone from them. it was odd, you thought, how he could look so sweet and filled with affection while between your legs with his mouth against your cunt.
"you're so fucking cute," hanbin mumbled again, moving his face down to your pussy. your heart fluttered at his curse, and you couldn't help but curl your toes in anticipation.
your cunt clenched, ready. hanbin exhaled a chuckle, and then his mouth was pressed against your hole.
despite knowing that him being between your legs with his face pressed to your cunt meant he was going to be eating you out, you couldn't help the little surprised noise that escaped you as his tongue pressed against your ring of muscle. he didn't press in, tongue just laving gently against your hole and adding to the mess of wetness.
he didn't leave you completely wanting, however. hanbin's hand went to your clit and two of his fingers framed it. he didn't press against your clit directly, letting the sides of his fingers rub against it as he stimulated the area around it, making your middle tingle with electric lust and mouth fall open in a breathless gasp.
hanbin continued at your cunt, tongue licking at your hole and sucking at it, his fingers gently massaging at your cunt, sending sparks up your body that sunk into your brain and turned it to mush.
eventually you were able to moan out his name, your hand reaching down for his hair. you tangled your fingers in his silk black blocks, tugging.
you could feel his exhale against your pussy. your fingers scratched against his scalp, and he just pressed his face to your cunt, unable to do anything due to the sensation.
hanbin lifted his hand from your cunt. his entire lower face was soaked in your juices and his spit, glistening with your wet. his sweet pink lips were red from use. and he looked delighted. hanbin smiled as soon as his eyes met yours, his free hand smoothing over your skin.
"gotta keep your hands out of my hair if you want me to finish this," hanbin said cheekily, teeth flashing.
you let out a shuttering breath, nodding. "sorry. sorry, binnie."
he chuckled, turning his face and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "it's okay, princess. you're doing so good. you're being a good girl, angel."
then hanbin was back to your pussy. his fingers slipped from your clit, trailing down to your hole to replace his mouth. he gently sunk a finger into your hole, the glide smooth. his hands were big, fingers long, and his finger sunk into you so deliciously. hanbin kept his mouth busy, moving to your clit and laving his tongue over it.
hanbin, who worked hard at everything he did, found your core instantly. he grazed his finger along your core, and when you jumped, a high keening whine escaping your mouth, he laughed again.
he withdrew his finger, dragging it against your walls. your cunt clenched down around his digit, trying keep him from withdrawing completely. meanwhile his tongue kept at your clit, gently laving at it, languidly licking as if it were a sweet treat.
hanbin didn't leave you hanging, and soon he was pressing two of his fingers into your pussy. the stretch burned slightly, but it was the sort of ache that had you wanting to fuck down and wanting to moan more.
hanbin began fucking his fingers into you, striking your core. the electricity spread through you, and when he began sucking at your clit your entire body felt like it was alight.
he continued his ministrations through your orgasm, tongue at your clit and fingers in your cunt. your mind traveled, a haze clouding it and making you seem as if you were floating.
when you returned to consciousness hanbin was gently kissing your thighs, his fingers still in your pussy. he darted his eyes up to you after every kiss, and once he realized you were looking back at him he gave you a blinding grin.
"there's my princess," he hummed, leaning his head on your thigh, cheek smooshing. "how you doing, lovely? tired yet?"
you laughed breathlessly, leaning your head back onto the pillow.
hanbin grinned against your skin, and then he was traveling up your body. his mouth skimmed along your skin; over your stomach and over the hills of your tits, stopping to lazily suckle at your nipple. eventually he found his way to your face, and then his mouth was pressing messily against yours.
it was wet. that was the first thing you noticed. you could taste yourself, could taste the juices off of his lips. the slightly bitter taste of your pussy was offset by the sweetness of his kiss, the way his mouth gently moved back and forth over yours; sweet, as if he hadn't just spent however long with his face in your pussy.
his tongue slipped into your cunt, licking into it. he sucked at your lower lip; nipped at it; soothed it with his tongue.
and then his fingers were slipping back down your body and to your pussy. your body tightened.
hanbin hummed. "how are you doing, princess? this okay?"
you nodded. hanbin gave a questioning him, and you murmured an affirmative yes.
his fingers went to your pussy. it was still drenched from your spit and juices, and it was far too easy for him to find your slippery clit. he rubbed at it somewhat harshly, but you welcomed it. it was easy for another orgasm to build up, and you grinded down on his fingers relentlessly, wanting that rigid strength hanbin provided with his fingers.
hanbin mouthed at your lips, breath coming heavily from both of your noses. your mouths began colliding in fervent rushes, tongues rolling out to meet one another, soothing over one another.
your breathing was labored; your moans long. between every sloppy press of your mouths hanbin was murmuring to you. "good girl," he said, "so sweet and good. come on princess, come on; give binnie another one."
your second orgasm was gentler than your first. no fireworks. instead it was a wave, and you welcomed it eagerly with hanbin's mouth still working at yours, his fingers unrelenting.
eventually he withdrew entirely from your cunt. he went back down the bed, spreading your thighs to look at his handiwork. you were, of course, still soaked. your juices were slowly beginning to dry, the stickiness making your thighs stick slightly together.
"what a messy girl," hanbin said fondly. he hurriedly bent down to press a kiss to your stomach. "i'll go grab a wet towel to clean you."
"noo," you whined. "don't leave me."
hanbin grinned up at you, eyes sparkling. "come on, princess. you'll be all sticky and grumpy in the morning."
he was countering your protest but you knew hanbin loved; loved how clingy you would get. he loved it when you wanted him close, when you whined and pouted at him for his attention.
you beckoned him back up your body. hanbin sighed dramatically but he had a large smile on his face. he climbed back up and framed your body with his, legs on either side of yours, arms surrounding your torso. hanbin lowered himself so he could press the tip of his nose against yours.
"hm?" he said, voice taking on a cute tone, "is my princess being all clingy?"
you hummed back, grinning and wrinkling your nose. you settled a gentle hand against his chest, pushing him lightly onto his side. and then you were smoothing your hand down his chest, running it over the fabric of his tank top and slipping underneath his waistband.
hanbin tucked his forehead against yours, looking down and watching as your fingers plucked at the hem of his shorts. "you don't gotta do anything," he said.
but you slid your hand the rest of the way. his cock was hard and warm when you touched it. his cockhead was wet from precum, and you pressed down the flat of your thumb along the tip.
hanbin let out a strangled moan. "angel," he said, voice tight.
you brought your hand from his shorts, and, not having many alternatives, you moved it between your thighs. you nestled it into your cunt. the juices stuck to your thighs were dry, but when you pressed your palm to your pussy and dragged it along you the wetness that still remained.
hanbin moaned loudly when you returned your hand to his dick. your cunt juices made the slide easy, and you kept a slightly loose grip around his cock. hanbin's breathing rose in pitch, and he fucked into your hand.
"tight --" he whimpered, dark brows furrowing. "tighten your fist, baby."
you did as he said. you tightened your fist around his cock, thumb pressing. you twisted your hand up as he fucked into your fist.
"come on, binnie," you mumbled. "cum for me, please."
hanbin groaned, teeth biting into his lip. it was only a handful of seconds more before your sensitive boyfriend was cumming into his pants, groan loud in your ears.
you pulled back, watching him. hanbin's cheeks were flushed red, his lips wide open and dark lashes fluttering. he was so beautiful like this, coming down from his high.
his gaze focused on you. he laughed breathlessly as he caught your eyes, pitching forward and dragging you into his arms, trapping your hand in his pants still.
"baby," he giggled, pressing a loud kiss to your cheek. "how on earth are we supposed to sleep now?"
493 notes · View notes
valleyof-goldenlilies · 10 months
Text
The Woes of Betrothals (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
Tumblr media
Part 2 about the wedding is out now! Read it here 
Synopsis: Recently betrothed, Prince Aemond is unsure on the virtues befitting that of a good husband. Ser Criston offers some surprisingly useful insight. 
Warnings: nothing explicit, just Aemond being emotionally constipated 
Word Count: 3k words. this was supposed to be a short one shot 😭
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 
A/N: In a fluff writing mood recently, so expect to see more fluffs coming your way (not just for aemond :)) 💗
lovely dividers once again credited to @firefly-graphics​ !
Tumblr media
Heavy grunts and the clashing sound of steel on steel resonated through the training yard of the Red Keep. Surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, Prince Aemond, his forehead beaded with sweat, moved deftly to dodge a blow struck by Ser Criston Cole’s morningstar. 
It was nearly noon, and the Prince and Kingsguard had been training since the break of dawn. Ser Criston had a look of exhaustion on his face, the midday sun clearly taking a toll on him, but Prince Aemond continued sparring with a fierce determination, parrying Criston’s offensives with utmost precision or viciously swinging his sword to land a blow on the knight. 
Whilst the prince was fond of training for long hours, Ser Criston was familiar enough with Prince Aemond’s various moods to know that today, while he was there in person, he was not in spirit. Seeing a chance, Criston quickly moved to swing a blow at Prince Aemond, and succeeded in catching him off guard, knocking the sword from the Prince’s hand for the first time this morning. 
Criston expected the prince to get angry that he had been bested, but Aemond merely raised a brow and rolled his eye, “I yield. Let us cease training for this morning.” Applause broke out through the training yard, and Criston had to hide a grin. It had been a while since he managed to beat Aemond in training. 
As the crowd dispersed, Criston noticed Aemond polishing his sword at a corner, a brooding look on his face. Feeling particularly emboldened this morning at his victory, Criston walked towards the prince, setting down his morningstar as he questioned, “What troubles you, my prince?” 
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are insinuating, Cole,” came Aemond’s curt response, but Criston was undeterred. “You may pretend all is well, but you have been on edge for a few days now, aye?” Criston commented, observing how the prince’s jaw was clenched. Oddly enough, he noticed doubt shining in the prince’s lone violet eye., catching Criston off guard “You may have been sparring with me this morning, but your heart is elsewhere. Tell me what troubles you, my prince.” 
Criston expected the prince to scowl and tell him it was none of his business, but instead, Aemond let out a pensive sigh, before tentatively asking, “Ser Criston, how do you reckon one should please their betrothed?” 
Criston’s ears immediately stood up in attention. Gods be good, the One-Eyed Prince was asking him for advice? And about his betrothed no less. As a Kingsguard, Criston had to suppress a laugh at the irony. “Are you referring to the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, my prince?” 
“Well, it could hardly be anyone else, could it?” Aemond retorted, though his heart was not in it. Criston watched, amused, as Aemond hummed contemplatively, “As you know, she and I were betrothed less than a moon’s turn ago. I had not crossed paths with her often before that, but…” Aemond swallowed, thinking of how brilliantly she smiled at him every time he had the fortune of being graced with her presence. He had always knew that his marriage would be one of duty and political benefit to his house, but over the course of getting to know the lady over the past few weeks, he found her company pleasant, and her gentle charm and surprisingly humorous wit a welcome change in the usual dreadfully boring courtiers at the Red Keep. And with every passing moment he spent in her presence, he felt a small sliver of affection for her begin to blossom in his heart. “As I got to know her more, I soon began to wish to be the sole cause of her brilliant smiles, her beautiful laughter, and selfishly, the sole receiver of her love and affection.”
Aemond had to resist the urge to bury his face in his hands. He was sounding like a lovesick fool, in front of Cole, of all people. Gods, he was an idiot, an utter idiot. Swords he could swing and books he could read, but when it came to affection, he found himself no better than an ignorant babe. “It sounds as though you harbour a great affection for the lady Y/L/N,” Criston smiled. “Yes,” Aemond said softly, his voice tinged a little with despair. “But I am unsure on how to best express my affections. She is akin to an ethereal maiden, and I’m naught but a crippled prince, who is stumped in my duties as a husband. I cannot seem to muster up the courage to proclaim my love for her, or shower her with praises and compliments.” 
‘Gods, what if she is unhappy with my performance of my duties as her husband because I am too much of a coward to even talk to her about my feelings?’ Aemond thought in alarm, mind racing. He did not want to be the reason why those lovely smiles of hers cease to exist. He wanted to make her feel like the most blissful woman in the realm. But he was completely clueless as to how. Words seemed completely inadequate to express the depth of his affection for her, and he had never been the best with his words anyway. 
Just then, Aemond felt a hand on his shoulder, grounding him to reality once more “Breathe, my prince,” Criston’s steady voice calmed Aemond down, making his racing thoughts come to a screeching halt. “I do believe you are overthinking things, my prince. Contrary to popular belief, I think that affection need not be expressed in elaborate gestures or through fervent declarations of love all the time.” 
Aemond’s eyebrows shot up, “Then how will she know how much I appreciate her? I can barely converse with her without looking like a stuttering fool.” Criston smiled, a sort of fatherly affection filling his eyes as he glanced down at the prince. “Though I am lacking in experience in matters of the heart, I believe that affection isn’t always just about grand gestures. Words are not the only outlet to express your admiration of her, my prince. You can start with the little actions: spending time with her, bringing her flowers, talking more with her about her interests, that sort of thing.” “And you think that that would be sufficient?”Aemond was a little sceptical. 
“Of course, that would not suffice in the long run. You are to be married, my prince, you will spend countless years with each other, you will have to do more than that.” Aemond’s face turned crestfallen, causing Criston to pat his shoulder, “However, given your trouble in expressing your feelings, these small gestures are a start. Build up from there, and you’ll find it easier to demonstrate your love for her over time.” Aemond’s gaze was still pensive, but his eye was sparkling a little with hope. “But what if I’m at a loss of words every time I’m with her? Won’t she find my company dreadfully dull then?” Criston couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him, though Aemond looked faintly offended at that. “Sometimes, your company is good enough, your Grace. Not all your time spent together need be filled with meaningful conversations. Basking in each other’s presence is bliss enough.” 
Satisfied with Criston’s response, Aemond stood up with a decisive look. “I am grateful for your advice, Cole. I shall depart to implement your advice at once.” Before leaving, however, Aemond tilted his head and smirked slightly, “You are rather good at giving romantic advice for a knight, Ser Criston. Your wisdom is wasted on being a Kingsguard.” 
Criston barked a laugh, thinking of that someone from so long ago. “Mayhaps, your grace. But I think I am rather content imparting my knowledge to you for now.” Aemond said nothing at that, only raising a hand in farewell as he strode off. Criston watched him depart, a slight grin on his face. ‘The Queen would be delighted to hear of this,’ he thought to himself with a degree of satisfaction. 
Tumblr media
You were sitting in Princess Helaena’s apartments, forehead furrowed in concentration as you delicately weaved a needle through the handkerchief you were embroidering for your betrothed. The midday sun shone through the long windows, casting a light golden glow throughout Helaena’s chambers. 
“Here, what do you think of this?” Helaena leaned over to you, eyes shining with anticipation as you held up your work so far. “It’s beautiful,” Helaena complimented, “Is that a raven?” You nodded, tilting your head to inspect your work. “Do you think it is too unusual to embroider on a handkerchief?” Helaena laughed, “You should not be asking me. Given the fact that-” she held up her own embroidery, and you laughed when you caught sight of a large beetle on her handkerchief. 
“I have to ask, however, why a raven?” Helaena inquired. You bit your lip softly, remembering your last interaction with your betrothed, Aemond. Knowing your love for birds, Aemond had taken you to Grand Maester Orwyle’s rookery, to see the various birds he had fostered there. You had both taken a liking to the ravens, with their intelligent eyes and strangely silent demeanour, compared to the other noisier birds in the rookery. You thought to yourself that they reminded you much of Aemond, though you did not say it out loud, watching with fond eyes as Aemond fed a raven and stroked its feathers, with a gentleness you did not know he possessed. 
“Your brother seems to like them,” you answered, smiling. Helaena beamed, “I’m sure he would be pleased with your gift.” “I do hope so,” your voice trailed off hesitantly, causing Helaena to take your free hand and squeeze it lightly. You had been much enamoured with your betrothed ever since your arrival to King’s Landing several moon turns ago, and you have come to know and appreciate him for his silent, thoughtful aura. However, his comportment did spell some uncertainty in you. While you knew this was a political match, your heart couldn’t help but yearn that your future husband would love you as much as you did him. 
But it was nigh impossible to tell what the One-Eyed Prince was thinking whenever we spent time together. He seemed perfectly cordial to you…but you wished you could get a further glimpse into what he felt for you. Did he feel at least a fraction of the adoration you felt for him? Or were you doomed to spend a lifetime in a courteous, yet dispassionate and loveless marriage with a man you long admired? 
Your thoughts were cut off by a sudden knock on the door. Startled, you nearly dropped your embroidery, but Helaena caught it deftly just in time. Sheepishly murmuring your thanks, you watched as a serving girl came into the room and curtsied in front of the both of you. “Your Grace, my lady, Prince Aemond is requesting to see you.” 
Aemond? Your heart began pounding furiously, delight and anticipation filling you. Was he here to see you? You tried tamping down your excitement, thinking firmly to yourself that he could be equally as likely to be here for Helaena. “Did he say which of the two of us he wanted to see?” “He wished to see Lady Y/N, your Grace.”
Your heart was beating so fast it felt dangerously close to exploding. Your mind was spinning in a dizzying rush of emotions. Helaena dismissed the serving girl, and smiled at you, “Well, I should not keep my brother waiting any longer for his betrothed. Go.” 
“Thank you, your Grace. Will I see you at dinner with the Queen tonight?” “Of course. You must tell me everything that happens,” Helaena’s eyes twinkled merrily. “That is a given,” you stood up and curtsied, before exiting the room, clutching the handkerchief you just sewed like it was the last thing grounding you to reality. Your steps were light and airy, and your heart nearly stopped when you saw Aemond standing by a window, his back to you, looking as majestic as ever in his training gear and his long silver hair flowing down his back. Your betrothed. 
“My Prince,” a sweet voice broke through Aemond’s thoughts. He turned around, his eye widening as he beheld his fair lady. She was dressed beautifully as always, in a light pink gown with a square neckline and elbow length sleeves. Pearl earrings dangled from her earlobes, serving only to accentuate her lovely complexion. He strode to her as she curtsied, his hand reaching out to her shoulder. 
“At ease,” Aemond’s voice was like velvet. “You are my betrothed, there is no need for such formalities.” You nodded shyly, meeting Aemond’s eye, surprised that today, there was actually a flicker of emotion behind it. Noticing how he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, your eyes widened slightly as you realised that Aemond Targaryen, the usually composed and unflinching prince, was nervous. And it was because of you. 
Aemond cleared his throat, finally revealing what he had been hiding behind his back. Just when you thought the day’s events could not get any stranger than seeing Aemond being anxious, you were caught even more off guard when you spotted an assortment of pink, blue and orange blooms in his hand. 
“These are for you, my lady,” he added, eye darting over her face to drink in all her beautiful features and most importantly, her reaction to his attempt at expressing his adoration for her. He was immensely relieved to find nothing but genuine delight on his betrothed’s face. 
“Oh, they’re wonderful,” you exclaimed happily, a flush going to your cheeks. “You are too kind, my prince. Thank you, I love them.” Aemond watched tenderly as she took the flowers and held them to her nose. She was simply angelic. 
You inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers, feeling your heart flutter at his sudden, but welcome gesture of affection. Perhaps this was a sign he returned your feelings? 
Aemond took a deep breath, trying to recall all the advice Criston had told him in the training yard just now. He had stopped by the garden to pick out the prettiest wildflowers he could find, but he found that none could compare to the sheer radiance of his betrothed when she smiled. ‘Focus’, Aemond told himself sternly, trying to collect his thoughts. ‘This was about making her see how much I care for her, not waxing on and on internally about how utterly struck I am by her beauty. I cannot mess this up.’ 
‘I must make her see how she has come to become the sun in my life.’ 
But Aemond was cut off by your sudden ‘Oh!’ Aemond nearly jumped out of his skin, afraid that there was something wrong with the flowers. But he was puzzled when you extended a handkerchief to him, smiling brightly. “I embroidered this for you. Take this as a token of gratitude for the flowers.” Aemond turned over the handkerchief delicately, tracing over the raven and various flowers sewed at the corner of the handkerchief, along with his initials, ‘A.T’ He felt his breath catch in his throat, “This…this is…” 
You watched him nervously as he stammered before falling into silence. Did he not like it? Perhaps he thought the raven was too much? You gripped the flowers in your hand a little tighter, saying a prayer to the Seven in your mind. 
Your worries were immediately allayed when Aemond pressed a shaky kiss onto your forehead. Startled, yet utterly enchanted, you stared up at him, who looked almost as shocked as you were at the kiss. “I…I take it you like your gift then?” you asked softly. 
He let out a quiet chuckle, “I think ‘like’ is an understatement, my lady. It is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given to me. I shall cherish it forever. As I will with you.” 
Aemond nearly screamed when he realised he blurted out the last part. ‘Why did I say that, why did I say that, why did I say that!’ his mind flooded with panic. However, suddenly emboldened from the adrenaline of the moment, he finally found the courage to express what he had been feeling for his fair lady. “My lady, I would like to confess something, and I think there couldn’t be a more appropriate time than this. I am hopelessly besotted with you.” He watched her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and he hurried to add, “Tis alright if you do not return those feelings! I understand, believe me. I do not wish to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. But it’s just that I loved you for so long, and I had no idea how to tell you, and I fear if I let this moment slip I will never muster up the bravery to tell you again and gods I-” the energy suddenly drained out of him as he found himself once again, at a loss of words. “I just…adore you beyond belief. Beyond what I can fathom. Please ignore my ramblings if you are uncomfortable with them, just take them as the words of a lovesick fool.” He averted her eyes, embarrassment and sadness filling him. How could he hope for someone as good and wonderful as her to love such a beast as him? The Gods should strike him down for his pride. 
A warm hand reached for Aemond’s, interlacing her fingers with his. Aemond looked up in disbelief at your next words, “You have no idea how thankful I am to hear those words…because I feel the same.” You smiled shyly at him, “I was hoping you had the same sentiments as I did, and now that you professed your feelings, I could not be happier.” 
Aemond reached out to grip her hand with both of his, cradling her soft hand in his hands, staring deep into her eyes, sparkling with so much devotion and adoration. They stood in silence for a while, before Aemond pulled her hand gently to his lips and planted a reverent kiss to her knuckles. 
“Would you…perhaps care to take a stroll with me, my lady? I believe we have a lot to discuss.” 
“I would love nothing more, your Grace.” 
let me know if you wish to be added to a taglist for general aemond works! if you enjoyed this fic, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) thank you for reading! 
2K notes · View notes
atimeofyourlife · 5 months
Text
A family Thanksgiving
This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents
The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.
"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.
"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.
"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.
"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."
Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.
When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."
"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.
"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"
"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.
"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."
"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.
"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.
Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.
"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.
"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.
"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.
After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.
"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.
"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.
"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.
"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."
"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.
"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."
"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"
"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."
"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.
"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.
"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.
"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.
"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.
"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."
Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.
"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."
"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.
"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."
"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.
"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."
Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.
Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.
"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.
"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.
Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.
"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."
Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.
"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."
"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."
"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.
"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"
"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."
"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"
"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."
"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."
"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.
"But, mother-" His father started.
"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."
"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."
"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."
"Mother,"
"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."
Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.
"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.
"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.
"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."
"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."
"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."
"Grandma." Steve protested.
"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.
Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.
"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"
"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."
"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"
"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."
"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."
"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.
709 notes · View notes
mrsnancywheeler · 2 months
Text
i know places // finnick odair x f.reader
request: Hiii, for the celebration could you do a soulmate au with Finnnick? Maybe after reader has won her games? Fluff pls but I don't mind some angst sprinkled in too. Thank you and I love your writing <3
masterlist
3k words
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: soulmate au, matching scars, closed off and guarded!reader, nearly instant love, attempted fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, self-destructive behavior, trust issues, lovesick finnick, cocky finnick, unreliable narrator reader, unedited, no use of y/n, no sight of a slowburn anywhere, mentions of blood/violence/death
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You didn't win with your charm. Before the games there was no popularity because of your interview with Caesar, the only semblance of any likeability was from your somewhat impressive training score, a 10. Regardless of what Panem wanted, your survival skills had come into clutch and brought you straight to the crown. A rare underdog winning the games. According to your mentor though the press had begun spinning you as meek when they'd realized you were in the top eight. You hadn't been the only tribute who tried it lone wolf and it conflicted with another story, so you were instead supposed to be quiet, gentle, and that's why you kept to yourself. Not because your district partner had attacked you night two, after claiming he would take watch, only for you to overtake him instead.
So now, post your victory they expected you to lean into the role, which didn't come naturally. Not when all you wanted to do was stop performing, scrub off your skin which still carried the weight of dirt and blood even if you'd taken plenty of showers since your return, and under the warm blankets of your bed. Maybe if you didn't feel so guilty and numb it would be easier to play at, but now everyone wanted a piece of you. You'd much rather they get bored of you.
Instead you'd been dragged out to a Capitol celebration before your return back home. The interview, the crowning, apparently hadn't been enough because no matter how they tried to make you seem, you were too guarded for them to get a good read on who you were. You didn't want them to know who you were, they'd already stolen you from your home, dolled you up, and forced you to fight to survive against the other dolls. Leaving your hands forever bloodstained and the screams ringing in your ears. Yet the dollhouse had not burned down when the cannon went off, they'd just deadbolted the doors. Who knew what other demented games they'd force you to play if they were given a chance to see inside your brain. So the walls stayed firmly up as you planted yourself firmly in a nook somewhere and the bustling of the party.
The dress was itchy, the shoes pinched at your feet, the way they'd styled your hair had every nerve on your scalp screaming for freedom, and the drink smelt too sickly sweet for one to even fathom sipping on. People would be looking to hound you, to find a reaction, and hopefully you could just disappear into the brick. Although fate seemed to have other plans.
“Mind if I join you?" You looked up, dreading having to talk to someone. What would you even say without revealing too much? Then of course you hadn't expected it to be the Capitol darling, Finnick Odair, himself.
He was an attention grabber. Too beloved, too shiny, wherever he went the moths were soon to follow. Which was the last thing you needed, curse Finnick Odair if he brought attention to you. “Yes, I do mind." ‘Leave. Let me see how long I can sit here until anyone approaches, let them be distracted by the wealth around them so they leave me be.’ Your brain, foot tapping the cobblestone.
He laughed, that swoon worthy smirk taking over his face. Warmth, an inviting aura radiated off of him, but you despised it at this moment. The audacity he had felt unmatched when he slid into the nook anyways. You'd met him less then a minute away and he was already being nothing less than cockily malicious. Although you shouldn't have been surprised, that's how people described him. Maybe the worst part was that some deep part of you said that it was okay, that it was right. Which was a ridiculous thought, it had barely been anytime at all.
“Do you scowl like that whenever people try to talk to you, honey?" Finnick took a bite out of whatever pastry he was holding, something extravagant, brushed with flakes of gold. He held it out, “You should try it, it's sweet like you're supposed to be."
You said nothing, if he was going to insist on being here then you certainly weren't going to reward his efforts. No, you weren't going to even look at him, your arms crossed as you kept tapping your foot. He'd get bored of you and leave eventually, if what they said was true he was bound to find someone sparklier to play with. Even if some part of you would've been okay being his shiny new toy, no that was ridiculous, however you could make the allowance that everyone had hormones so it was only natural to be feeling like this. Of course he'd be this way, the man who supposedly had no soulmate, who could play with as many hearts as he wanted because in the end there apparently was no one out there for him. What a sad existence. Thinking about it almost made you feel bad for him, but you couldn't feel that much pity when he was so close to leading the vultures right to you.
“They're gonna find you eventually, you can't hide out here forever." He was terrible, insufferable. You glowered at him and his smirk widened. “There's no point in being miserable when they're going to do this until the next games. Might as well make the most of it.” Then like he had the right to be the most entitled man in the world took the glass right out of your hand and took a drink. You hated it here, hated how people acted, that you had no one, and most of all hated the way it made you feel. Like he was the only person you should've ever paid attention to. “Didn't seem like you were gonna drink it, you can still have some if you change your mind." You didn't make a move to grab the glass, “Didn't think so." Damn him and his attitude, and his perfect teeth, and the way it made your soul feel fulfilled for some odd reason. Which was nothing less than outrageous since all he'd done in the past couple minutes was drive you up the wall. Then the voices of chatter outside got louder, ‘Shit, shit shit,’ you thought. His magnetism was going to guide them straight to you. He could seemingly tell that this put you on edge because he put a single finger on his lips, a ‘shhh.’ This only served to irk you more, of course you knew to be quiet, this was his fault.
Soon enough the voices began fading again and you were ever so grateful. “Get out." You muttered, burrowing yourself further into the corner.
“This is where I usually take my breathers, not my fault you found it too." He shrugged. How a person managed to look so perfect you'd never know and didn't want to if it made them act like him.
“You've taken more than enough breaths, so you can go now."
"Honey, being a victor is all about who you know. You need good connections or your reputation will eat you alive.”
You glared,"I'll make good connections when they finally find me, but not right now.”
He looked at you with pity, you despised that he felt the right to pity you, but it felt so nice for someone to finally look at you like you weren't in need of congratulations."It takes most of us a couple months to start hating the attention, the realization hit you quicker didn't it?” There was no way he expected you to open up to him, yes you wanted to, but you couldn't. Nobody could be trusted, that was the first lesson the arena really taught you. “Being standoffish isn't going to stop them, it'll only make them see you as a problem victor, and I promise you that's the last thing you want."
Your voice unintentionally softened,"What do you want?”
"To make sure you're gonna be okay, everyone needs someone backing their side in this arena.” This arena. A different, more social one, because you'd never be able to escape. For someone who ticked you off in every sense within a minute, just as fast he'd begun chipping away at your walls.
"You don't want to back my side.”
"Yeah, I do.” Your face was still stony, even if you felt like your stomach was less anxious about being caught and more butterflies. Of course the first man who gave you attention would make you nearly lose resolve. No, he had to want something, be playing some game.
"No one wants to bet on the losing dog.”
"Good thing you're not losing, honey. And believe it or not, maybe there's just something about you.”
"You don't know me.”
"I know and that's what's weird about it.” There was a crease forming on his furrowed brow. “Come on, you should go make an appearance."
There was no way to step back, but you tried. Heel pushing out of the shoe, but you made no move to push it back in. You were too defensive, as long as you could hide you would. “No." You shook your head.
He sighed, “You don't even have to be you, make up a persona, but you have to do something or things will get worse." No, you couldn't bear to let people peer into you, it was terrible that Finnick was even getting a taste of it. You'd only make them hate you more anyways, they'd only grow to realize it would've been better to have anyone but you. “I'll go with you, take the attention off." Maybe that would work, but then what might people think? That you were the type of person easily won over by charming looks and cocky smirks, maybe you were, but that wasn't the point.
However, you did let yourself contemplate it. You couldn't reasonably hide here all night, and his charisma could make up for what you lacked. Plus, even if you hated to admit it, if there was anyone you'd want to stick by you, to tell you everything would be alright, it would be him. It didn't make sense why you felt this way and you almost felt guilty for how crazy it made you sound. It was a miracle he even wanted to stick around when you were being so bitchy, but he was an ass, so it must have evened out.
“I don't need you to stick around me." You lied through your teeth, it was better than making him think that reliance was a vulnerability of yours. Even if it was. Even if it looked like he had the kind of arms you could cry into, you hadn't cried yet, but this was all so overwhelming it felt like you might.
Finnick looked a little wounded, but there was more pity. Like he knew you were biting to try and keep yourself safe, like you were still in survival mode. “I get it, if you change your mind, just look my way." Yet he stood still like he was waiting for you to move first, making sure you didn't just hide away the whole night. Which you would've, if it could become part of the wall you'd thank it for the opportunity. You stared back until finally the tension of the silence became so palpable that you forced yourself to move. Rather unceremoniously as you'd forgotten the way your heel was still sticking out of the shoe and tumbled right out of the rest of it.
“Fuck!" You quietly exclaimed and Finnick was quick to assist you. You wished he hadn't because the moment he touched you it was as if rays of sunlight were buzzing through your veins, like your soul was ascending.
“Oh, I got you!"
“I'm fine." You pushed him off, so the feeling would stop. It was awful, it was weird, there was no plausible reason you should feel like this. Unless…no that was ridiculous.
“Sorry." But sorry didn't make up for the residual waves of electricity, or the way your heart pounded. Or how terrible it was that you wanted to feel it again. "Here let me get your shoe.” Then his nice dress pants were on the dirty cobblestone and you felt bad thinking about how they could get ruined.
"It's okay-” But then he was pausing at your foot, and the sunlight in your blood was back even stronger as his fingers began tracing something on your foot.
"What's that?”
You tried to pull your foot away but his fingertips chased after it, "It's nothing, just the stupid soulmate scar." It wasn't stupid, never had been to you, but it was better to protect your feelings. Finnick laughed, “What?" You asked, finally pulling your foot completely away.
“Oh my god, I'm an idiot. Of course I wanted to talk to you." He kept laughing and then was abruptly pulling off his shoe.
“What are you doing?" He didn't respond as he finally pried the shoe off and the sock.
“Look, they're the same. Oh my god, I found you!" His laughter was certain to alert someone with the way it carried with the breeze, it should've annoyed you more than it did, but it was like music when it passed through your ears.
“What're you talking about?" He playfully rolled his eyes and then his hand was pulling you down on the ground with him. And despite the dirt that would get on your dress, the electric sunshine felt too good to pull away. So you sat in the pile of your dress on the ground and let him guide your feet together.
“Look at that, honey. Look at that." You would've asked what he wanted you to look at, but it quickly became obvious. Two scars, in the same place, the same size, you shared that scar with Finnick Odair. He, the Finnick Odair, who you'd just met and had already pushed you through an array of emotions, was your soulmate. The part of you that had been gnawing in the back of your brain was celebrating in ‘I told you so’s.’
“Oh.” You traced over them slowly, trying to let it sink in. Suddenly you had a soulmate, well you always had, but he was right there. Suddenly things would be alright, and maybe the universe wanted to spite you because you'd always imagined that was the person you'd finally have to open up to. Here he was, the man you'd been actively pushing away the help of.
"Is that a good, oh?” He asked and you felt bad for how you could feel a slight worry in his voice.
"I thought you didn't-”
"I lied, the nick on my foot was from swimming, and it helped the people who wanted to fawn over me. Almost convinced myself it was true though, but here you are.”
"What're you trying to do here?” You couldn't trust him, even if it felt right, even if he made your heart swell. No, this wasn't right, you were just you, and he was Finnick Odair.
Now though it was as if he could read you like a book, like all your guarded insecurities were on a display. It was a horrendous and gratifying experience to be known, to be perceived. "I'm not trying to do anything, honey, we're just meant to be. Not playing at anything, promise." So you sat there in the pile of fabric on the floor, cold stone giving you goosebumps as you stared at him. This was it, there was no need to be cautious because it was meant to be. Why would someone betray their own soulmate? He definitely didn't seem like the type.
“Okay." You finally exhaled and he smiled so wide that it made it worth it. Your walls have been somewhat successfully picked at because you let him embrace you. In fact, you let yourself relax in his arms.
“You're real, you're really real." He held you like you might slip away in a dream. “So pretty, so smart, and real!" He buried his head in your shoulder. It felt good to let someone care about you like this and it made you feel better about how instantly attracted you'd been. You'd probably look back and hate yourself for it, but you felt yourself crying. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, honey?”
You shook your head and he wiped one away, letting you hide in his chest. He was so warm, it felt so right, like the sunshine feeling would never go away. "You meant what you said earlier right? You'll stick by me?"
It felt so right when his hands traced up and down the back of your neck, “Of course, honey, won't leave your side. I got you."
God, this was embarrassing. "Sorry.” You pulled away and he shook his head.
"You're okay, don't worry, that's what this is for. We're here for each other.”
You nodded slowly, sinking into his deep eyes, you'd never seen the ocean, but you imagined that's what it would look like. "I should go make my appearance now.” Before you said another thing he had your shoe back on your foot and his on as well. Pulling you up to help you stand. "Promise to stay?" It felt pathetic, but also like he was the one you were supposed to turn to.
“Promise. I'll never leave your side, honey." Finnick squeezed your hand and maybe you could now face the world. The universe had gifted you, at your lowest point, your soulmate in a matter of minutes. Someone who could already seemingly read you like a book and made your heart beat like there was a racket happening, and you knew that you'd finally be able to just truly be you with someone. Through thick and thin, through the highest highs and lowest lows, suddenly you knew you had each other.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
thank you so much for reading, I tried to make this fluffy but honestly it's kind of a struggle so I hope it's up to standard. as always if you enjoyed feedback, comments, reblogs, likes, are all very, very appreciated. asks and requests are both open and I love you all 💋
@wowzabowza69
269 notes · View notes
aerynwrites · 6 months
Text
Masquerade of Liars
Dad!Gale x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
A/N: Had to do a little something for Halloween! So i found out Faerun has their own kind of Halloween called Liars Night or Masquerade of Liars. Here’s a link if you want to read more about it, it’s actually super cool! But I also just wanted to write some soft Dad!Gale after so many of you seemed to enjoy that one shot of him finding out reader was pregnant. So hope y’all enjoy!
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: reader is referred to as mother/mum.
*not beta read, sorry for any grammatical errors*
Tumblr media
The smell of sulfur fills your nose as you strike a match to light the small wax candles before you. You light the wicks before shaking the match to douse the flame, and grabbing one of the lit candles.
“Cassias!” You call, moving to place the light source inside of your son’s pumpkin. “Are you almost ready? We need to go. Gale-!”
Your husband materializes just as you call his name, his lips against your own cutting off your words. You sigh when you pull away, smiling despite yourself as you place the last two candles in the remaining pumpkins. 
“Did you help Cas with his costume?” You ask, looking over the carved orange spheres before you, making sure they look alright before you put them outside. 
Gale lets out a quiet laugh as he shrugs his shoulders, “I tried, but he could not be swayed to accept my assistance. He wanted to do it himself.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully, “He is definitely your son - stubborn.”
Gale lets out a small scoff, as he steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. “Me? Stubborn? I think he gets that from you, my love.”
You let out a low hum, as you reach up to straighten the collar of his robe, “I suppose he gets it from the both of us.”
Gale smiles. “That’s better,” he says, before leaning in to kiss you again. 
You relish in the somewhat quiet moment in your lover’s arms, knowing that the rest of the night will be full of excitement and noise. 
The approaching thunder of footsteps coming down the stone steps of the tower make you separate from one another, but not before you press one last kiss to his cheek. 
“I’m coming!” You son calls as he barrels down the stairs, nearly tripping over the tail of his costume as he hits the floor. 
You instinctively reach out for him, but he’s righted himself before you can help, and you’re unable to stifle the grin that splits your lips as you take in the costume Cassian wears. 
He insisted on being a dragon. A red dragon specifically. And it had to have horns, and giant wings. 
And well…who were you to deny him?
His mask looked like that of a red dragon, tall pointed black horns rising from the top of it, even pointy teeth peeking out of the creature's mouth. The rest of his costume was just as elaborate, you and Cassian having worked on it for weeks leading up to the Masquerade of Liars. His shirt and pants are lined with hundreds of small metal scales that glint in the candle light. He even has a tale pinned to his pants, which may prove to be more of a hindrance now that you see it dragging the ground. 
Even Gale helped with the costume, adding his own magical flare in the form of gentle smoke coming from the mask's mouth as if Cassian could breathe fire. 
“Look, father look!” Cassian jumps around in his costume, the scales tinkling softly as he does so and reflecting a beautiful dappled light pattern all through the kitchen. 
Gale ‘ooo’s’ and ‘ah’s’ at his son’s costume before picking the child up and smiling at the giggles that pour out from behind the mask. 
“You’re just as fearsome as the legendary Ansur of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale tells him seriously before reaching up to tilt the mask up to the top of Cassian's head, revealing his face to you both. 
Cassian is basically a spitting image of Gale. Warm brown eyes and dark hair. Gale insists he got your nose though, and your smile, which you’re happy about if not a little begrudging. You carried him for nine months! The least the gods could have done is given him your eyes…
But you wouldn’t change a thing, not really. Cassian has turned into a wonderful child, all chubby cheeks and laughter and kindness. Even now you watch in silent admiration as Cassian talks animatedly with his father. Despite being only six his vocabulary is as big as Gales. 
“Are you ready for a night of trickery and lies?” Gale asks, voice dropping to a playfully low octave.
Cassian nods, eyes lighting up. “And candy!” 
Glae laughs, moving to set Cassian back on his feet. “And candy of course. Do you have room in your pockets?”
Cassian nods fervently, face serious as he pats both pockets on his costume. “I even have candy in my other pocket so no one steals our coin.”
You stifle a laugh at the seriousness with which Cassian takes the holiday. 
Liars night, though now more commonly known as the Masquerade of Liars is a night to pay tribute to the dirties Leira and Mask. While it started centuries ago as a more serious holiday it’s evolved into more of a fun tradition to celebrate the gods. 
The particular tradition Cassian is referring to is pickpocketing. It used to be so common back when the holiday was first created that people started keeping candy in their pockets instead of coins - this soon evolved into people taking the candy and leaving behind trinkets or a small note in return. 
Now most people just give the candy out, especially to children. But the occasional trinket still makes it into a pocket here or there - and you aren’t about to ruin his fun. 
“Very good, Cas!” You praise, turning to face the carved pumpkins once more. “We should be ready to go once we put the pumpkins on the doorstep. Do you want to carry yours?”
“Yes, yes! Can I?” He reaches his hands up expectantly, and you smile, looking over at Gale. 
“What do you think, my love?” 
Gale nods, a smile matching your own on his face as he takes Cassian’s pumpkins from the counter. “I think a dragon as fearsome as Cassian can carry his own pumpkin to the stoop this year.”
Cassian cheers and takes the pumpkin carefully in his arms, Gale keeping a watchful eye until he’s sure he has a secure hold on it. 
You take your pumpkins and Gale takes his as you all move to the front door of the tower, moving slowly to keep the candles lit. 
“Be careful Cas,” you say, following close behind. “You don’t want the candle to blow out, remember?”
“I remember, mum,” he says, “It’s bad luck.”
You nod as Gale reaches out with one hand to open the door for all of you, the cool night air kissing your skin. “That’s right.”
You watch as Cassian moves to set his pumpkin at the top of the stairs right next to the door, turning it this way and that until he’s happy with the placement. You and Gale place yours nearby before locking the door and taking Cassian’s hands in your own. 
Once at the bottom of the stairs, you all turn to look at the small display, the candles flickering gently in the night. Cassian hops impatiently between you and your husband, his little hands squeezing yours tightly. 
“Can we go?” He asks, excitement bleeding into his words. 
You chuckle and nod. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to miss the festivities.”
The three of you walk from your home towards Waterdeeps town square. While the night is celebrated throughout the city, most people gather in the square. Vendors set up to sell food or other festive items and children run around trying to collect as much candy as they can in one night. Even the adults partake in the costumes and activities. You and Gale have dressed up in the past, but this year you decided to forgo a disguise.
Cassian chats animatedly as you make your way down the quiet streets, the sounds of celebration getting louder the closer you get to the center of Waterdeep. His steps get more impatient until eventually, both you and Gale are stumbling to keep up with the energetic child as you finally reach your destination. 
The square is decorated for the holiday, lanterns hanging all around, and some even floating in the air thanks to some other magic wielders. Autumnal colored banners and draping shirt line the various vendor stalls and the fountain at the center, and lively music fills the square as well. 
Cassian breaks away from you and Gale when he spots one of his friends, a little tiefling boy named Allon who looks to be dressed as an owlbear. 
Gale laughs as you both follow him, watching as he embraces his friend before gesturing excitedly at their costumes. “I don’t understand where all that energy comes from - it surely doesn’t come from me.”
You let out a chuckle of your own as you stand a few paces back to let Cassian talk to his friend. “That’s just how children are, I’m afraid. But it dies down. Eventually.” 
Gale just hums quietly in response, watching your son with adoring eyes as he and Allon take turns roaring at each other. 
You remember a time many years ago when Gale told you he didn’t feel like he was father material. Granted it was in the middle of some tumultuous times for everyone, but you had thought he truly meant it. And despite him being overjoyed when you told him you were pregnant with Cassian several years ago you couldn’t help but worry those doubts would creep back in. 
But they never did.
Gale took to fatherhood like a fish to water. Despite it being a learning curve for the both of you, he took everything in stride and a new glow settled into his being. Even in his most dour moods from hours of fruitless research or a failed spell experiment, his face would always light up at the sight of his son. 
This adoration just seemed to grow as Cassian got older, the boy taking after his father in almost everything. You remember thinking that Gale was going to die of happiness when Cassian started to show an affinity for magic and a certain connection to the weave. 
You know he would have been happy even if Cassian showed no interest in the weave or magic in general, but the fact that he does has only pulled the two of them closer. 
“Mr. Dekarios!” 
Allon’s voice pulls you from your reverie, watching as him and Cassian come running up to you and Gale. You look past him to see his parents watching you all and give them a small wave which they return. 
Gale takes his hand from your own as the boy approaches and crouches down to his level.
“Yes, Allon?”
The boy, whose mask is tipped up to sit on top of his head, looks slightly sheepish as he looks at Gale.
“Can you show me that magic trick again?” He asks politely.
Gale feigns to think for a moment, hand on his chin as he scratches his beard. “Do you mean this one?”
With a flick of his wrist and a faint purple aura, Gale produces a small foil wrapped chocolate in the palm of his hand just to the side of Allon’s face. The tiefling giggles in delight before snatching the candy and stuffing it in his mouth. 
You hear a small gasp come from behind him as his mother approaches, placing a hand on his shoulder. 
“Allon, what do you say?”
His eyes widen as he speaks around the chocolate in his mouth. “-‘fank you.”
Gale laughs before pulling two more chocolates from his robe and handing them to him. “You’re most welcome.”
Allon’s mother gives you both a small apology before leading her son back to where her husband stands. 
Gale’s trick for Allon starts to attract a small crowd of children, all of them begging to see him do more tricks and other magical displays. Your wizard stands next to you as the gaggle grows, a huge grin splitting his lips as he complies with the tiny demands. 
He pulls candy out of thin air, handing them to the small grabby hands that reach out before moving to pull hard candy’s from behind some children’s ears or even making them appear right in their pockets. You watch from a few feet away, as Cassian fights his way to the front of the crowd. Gal hoists him into his arms and pauses his display as yours son leans in to whisper in his ear. 
Gale’s eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds like a grand idea, Cassian. Would you like to help me?”
At the prospect of helping his father with magic, Cassian nods fervently, his mask shaking funnily on his face. Gale instructs the other children to back up just a few feet before setting Cassian down beside him. He turns to face him and takes his little hands in his own, palms facing up. 
“Now, remember,” he instructs gently, “You have to think about it very hard, try to picture it in your head.”
Cassian nods firmly, and you can practically picture the look of serious determination on his face.
Gale continues. “And remember, do not be discouraged if it does not work because…”
“I’m still learning and mistakes are okay,” Cassian recites the words Gale tells him so often. 
Gale smiles, squeezing Cassian’s hands. “That’s right. Now, are you ready?”
Cassian nods again and Gale turns to face the small crowd, which has now grown to include adults as well. You’ve now moved to join the crowd a few paces back from the front row of children in order to watch your family. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that Cassian isn’t nervous in any way. 
Gale places both hands out in front of him, palms together and waits as Cassian mimics him. After a moment of concentration he separates his hands to reveal a small area of purple and blue light. You wait for Cassian to do the same but find yourself slightly perplexed when he stays still, his hands held firmly together in front of him.
You watch as Gale whispers something to him before he thrusts his hands skywards ending out a cascade of purple and blue light that settles over the crowd. Moments later you watch as Cassian does the same but instead, pure starlight springs out from his palms, creating a magical night sky above the square as the pinpricks of bright white light settle among the colorful aurora. 
Cheers and gasps of pleasure erupt from the crowd, but you don’t stay to watch their faces as they marvel at the magic. You’re already rushing forward, taking Cassian in your arms as you gasp. 
“Cassian, that was amazing!” You praise, hugging him close before looking at Gale who gazes proudly at his son. “When did you learn to do that?”
Cassian pulls away so he can look at you, tugging his mask up so his brown eyes can look into your own, excitement and utter joy sparkling in his eyes. 
“I’ve been practicing for over a tenday!” He says proudly.
Finally gale approaches, finally free from attention as they all marvel at his handiwork. “It’s true. He would not rest until he was sure he could do it,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. “In fact it was you he wanted to surprise most.”
You smile and turn to look at your son again. “Well consider me surprised,” you tell him before peppering his face with kisses, causing him to squeal. “I’m so, so proud of you, Cas.”
“Muuum!” He whines, causing you to relent in your barage of kisses. 
“Okay, okay,” you say, moving to set him back on his feet. “Why don’t we go explore the rest of the square? I think I saw someone selling cinnamon buns…”
At the mention of his favorite treat, Cassian’s face lights up again and he tugs his mask back down as he grabs your and Gale’s hand in each of his one.
“Yes! Let’s go, let’s go!”
———
The moon is high in the sky by the time you three make your way home. Cassian is sound asleep in Gale’s arms, pockets building with candy, and chocolate staining the corners of his mouth. 
You approach the tower soon enough, the facing flicker of three candles greeting you through the carved mouths of the pumpkins. You smile as you make your way up the steps, getting the door for Gale before following them both inside. 
You follow them up to Cassian’s room and help Gale gently remove his costume, careful not to wake him. But despite your best efforts, just as you're tucking him into bed, Cassian stirs awake. 
His eyes flutter slowly as his hands come up to tug the blanket further around him. 
“Did the candles go out?” He asks sleepily. 
You shake your head, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Nope. They’re still lit, my love. No bad luck this year.”
Cassian nods before turning onto his side, eyes slipping closed as he falls right back asleep. 
You smile and press another kiss to his forehead, Gale doing the same before blowing out the candles and leaving the room, leaving the door cracked so a small amount of light can filter in from the hallway. 
You both move about readying for bed once Cassian is settled, neither of you speaking as sleep starts to tug at your minds as well. Only when you’re settled beneath the covers with Gale’s arms snaking around you do you finally break the silence. 
“You’re an amazing father,” you tell him softly, lips brushing against his own. 
Gale is silent for a moment, eyes trailing over your face before his eyes slip closed and he pulls you closer, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 
“That is praise most high - praise I sometimes still feel unworthy of.”
You shake your head, wrapping around him further. “You deserve that and more, my love.”
He presses a kiss to your neck, the underside of your jaw, before eventually pulling away to capture your lips with his own. It’s a slow, languid kiss, both of you just taking each other in until finally breaking apart and settling against the pillows. 
“I love you,” gale says simply, pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, for giving me this. Giving me a family.”
Your heart swells at his words and you move to bury your face in his chest, wanting him as close as possible. 
“I love you too.”
Tumblr media
464 notes · View notes
thelukesalvez · 7 months
Text
Luke Alvez x Reader: It's About Time
Prompt: The reader and Luke pretend to be dating so that the rest of the team will stop trying to set Luke up on blind dates.  
Word count: 3k
Warnings: none
Tumblr media
You've really done it now, Alvez, Luke thinks to himself.  
Of all the names he could have blurted out, he just had to choose yours. God, the Queen of England would have been better.  
He thought back to the conversation in the bullpen that had started this whole mess.
"I-I can't go out with your friend," Luke stuttered, wishing his coworkers would stop pushing him to go on all these blind dates just because he was single.
"C’mon, Luke-” Tara pressed. “She’s smart and accomplished. I think you two would really hit it off-"
"Because I'm seeing someone," he blurted out spontaneously, mind racing to come up with a name.
Tara and JJ all looked taken aback, then suspicious, their eyes narrowing in unison. Tara raised her brows, "Oh? Who?"
Luke’s mind went blank, his brain nearly sizzling as it worked fast to come up with something. He should have chosen someone random- the girl who always walked her dog by his house, or the one who made his coffees in the morning. Someone the team didn’t know.  Hell, a completely made up girl would’ve been better.  
Suddenly, a warm smile and deep, sparkling eyes flooded his mind, and Luke couldn't stop himself. "Y/N."
JJ’s jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her lips. "Y/N?"
Instantly, Luke’s entire insides flood with regret.  
You worked in the Counter-Terrorism division of the Bureau. Luke first met you in training at the Academy when he joined the FBI. You had become quick allies, before graduating and moving on to your assignments.
There had been a time, in the Academy, when Luke had a thing for you, quickly reigned in by your charm. He admired your work ethic and constant ability to make him laugh.  
But everything changed once you finished the Academy.  You remained in Quantico while Luke traveled with the Fugitive Task Force, gradually losing touch.  
It was only recently, with Luke joining the BAU, that you two were able to reconnect. Now that he was stationed in Quantico full time, you actually saw each other quite frequently. At first, just in passing- a consequence of your offices being so close to one another.  But, as time went on, you started rekindling during work gatherings and even meeting for drinks after hours.  Your friendship with Luke was easy and natural.  You even were introduced to his team- who all took a quick liking to you.   
Sometimes Luke thought you were closer to Penelope, Tara, and JJ than you were to him. He cringed realizing they would never buy it. "Yeah," he confirms anyway.
"Luke," Tara said slowly, "why haven’t we heard anything about this?"
"We... wanted to take things slow,” Luke lied. “It just... sort of happened."
“Well, I mean, it’s about time. I think Pen called this months ago,” JJ said. 
Luke’s face flushed bright red. 
"We have to tell her," Tara agreed. 
“Yeah, Luke, you should bring her to Garcia’s house party this weekend. I’m sure Matt would love to meet her.”
Great. 
Luke slid off the desk he was kneeling on and nodded in confirmation, “Yeah, great idea,” he lied again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans; positive this whole thing was going to bite him in the ass.
...
The next morning, Luke arrived at the Bureau early. He needed to talk to you before anyone else could.  
He had a hunch that he might be murdered today.
You were heading for the elevators when it happened. You had your head down and were 20 minutes early to work, per usual. Normally, you didn’t encounter anyone on your way inside of Quantico. But you let out a startled squeal when suddenly, someone threw their arm between the closing metal doors, forcing them to reopen. Breathless from the scare, you quickly turn to realize it was Luke. You let out a sigh of relief before playfully shoving his shoulder. 
“God, you scared me,” you said. 
But Luke didn't laugh. Instead he tugged on his shirt uncomfortably, an awkward smile on his face. 
“What’s the matter with you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“So, uh-” how the hell was Luke supposed to casually bring this up?  “It’s a funny story really..”
“Spit it out, Alvez,” you said, you immediately could tell something was up.  Luke was never this fidgety. 
He bit his lip harshly. “The entire BAU may or may not think we’re dating-” he spit out quickly. “That’s not true-” he corrected.  “The entire BAU definitely thinks we’re dating.”
You gawked at Luke, not entirely processing what he had just told you. “What?” Your cheeks were growing hot with embarrassment. “Why?”
Luke offered a brief, cheeky smile, one that was layered with guilt. "See, now that's a funny story-"
"Spit it out, Alvez."
“-Because I told them we were.”
Without even thinking you turned and pressed the stop button on the elevator, locking the two of you into place. This conversation was going to take a lot longer than the minute it took to bring you to the fourth floor. 
“You what?” You gasped.    
“Like I said- it’s really, kind of a funny story-” 
But you cut him off. "You have ten seconds to explain before I strangle you to death in this elevator.”
Luke’s eyes widened with shock, even though that was exactly the reaction he expected.  
“Talk. Now.” You demanded, cornering him.  
"Tara was trying to set me up with one of her friends- and to get out of it I told her I was already seeing someone. When she asked who, I panicked and said you."
Your nostrils flared and Luke thought he could almost hear your teeth grinding. "Why wouldn’t you just say no to the date?" You asked. “Instead of lying?”
“Because it never stops- every gathering, every party, they’re trying to set me up.  It’s like I scream lonely or something.”
Your mouth tightened but you stayed quiet.
“I needed something that would shut them up for good.  Or at least a little while.”
"And so you said you were dating me..." 
Luke sighed. “I know it was stupid. But I’m tired of going on meaningless dates that never turn out good. I just needed a break... I mean, it's exhausting, really- and never ending. But I get it- I mean, I get it's not fair to you. But I panicked- and just reacted." God, he was blabbing. "But I’ll tell them it was a lie, I’ll go on the date-”
You crossed your arms. "You done?"
Luke nodded. You waited a moment, mulling the whole thing over in your head.
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? Except, it was. Because back at the Academy, when you and Luke first became friends, you had developed a small, barely-there, tiny crush on Luke. However, now that he was stationed in Quantico and you two were seeing each other more often, your crush had only grown into a full fledged, real-life feelings.  
But the thought of Luke going on another blind date made you cringe, so without giving yourself a chance to do the responsible thing here, you blurted out a quick, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Luke said in disbelief. 
“What would I have to do?”
“Uh-” Luke stammers, like he’s still in shock. “Garcia’s party-  You could come to Garcia’s party with me.”
"Garcia’s party then," you declared. "We pretend to be together for the party."
Luke’s eyes met yours and he gave you a convincing smile. “Are you sure?”
You shrugged before pushing the button to start the elevator back up again. “Yeah, what the hell?”
You pulled into the driveway of Garcia’s home and both of you sat in the car, tensed.
“I’m sorry again about this. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I owe you one. I just… didn’t want to do the blind date thing and you’re the only person I’d feel comfortable doing this with and-“ 
You cut Luke off and slid your calm hand over his shaking one. You hope the small admission was lost somewhere in Luke’s rushed, jumbled apology.
“Luke, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to say yes.” You squeezed Luke’s hand, gently demanding for him to look up and into your eyes.
Luke obliged.
“I’m happy to be here with you. There’s no one else in the world that I’d rather be in a fake relationship with.”
Luke thought that, ‘or a real relationship’ was hanging somewhere in the air between them. But neither of you had the courage to admit it.
You squeezed Luke’s hand again before hopping out of the passenger’s side, going to the backseat to collect the bottle of wine you’d brought.  
To say Garcia was excited to see the two of you holding hands on her doorstep was an understatement. 
“Oh my gosh,” she said, looking shocked. “Oh my gosh. You guys are so beautiful together. I always had a feeling about this. Made for each other, you two. I called this.” 
“Hi Penelope,” you said through a smile.
She waved you in excitedly, and you and Luke exchanged glances before following her into the house.
Luke carried the bags in and you carried the wine. Luke couldn’t help but think that this is probably how it would go if you two were really dating. Luke doing all the heavy lifting of the bags, and you letting your friends whisk you into the kitchen to chatter about something.
Luke shook the thought out of his head.  
...
“So tell me about how you guys got together,” JJ asked later in the night.  
Penelope’s eyes widened and she hurried to set down her glass before flailing her arms. “Oh, oh, oh!” she bounced excitedly. “I want to know too!” 
Everyone in the room’s attention turned to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but hesitated. 
While you floundered in your explanation. Luke wished he could go to you, wrap an arm around your waist, steady you and remind you that it was okay.
Luke was midway through the thought when he realized that oh… he could actually do that right now.
He crossed the room in a hurry before wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side, smiling at you as he felt you lean into his body, one of your arms snaking behind him to grip his hip. 
Luke could get used to this. 
But he won’t be getting used to this. Because this is just for the party and then you and him will go back to being just friends. 
“It uh-” Luke fumbled with his words, too distracted by the way your fingertips felt against the flesh of his hip. 
But you swooped in to save him, jumping into your story quickly. “It happened after work a little while ago. We were riding down in the elevator together and he finally just asked me out.” Luke squeezed your arm, as your voice trailed off. You looked up at him, smiling. “It was an easy yes from me, I’d been waiting for him to do that for a while- pretty much since the day we met.” You let the moment carry you through the story, let your real, raw feelings show, for once. And you hoped that Luke was listening to every word. You hoped it registered to Luke that not all of this was for show.
It took a small whimper of a sob that came from Garcia's mouth to snap the two of you from your trance. 
“Oh, you guys. I’m so happy for you both. This is wonderful. From the way Luke’s always talked about you, I figured that he was just in his own head again… he’s been head over heels for you for quite some time –“
“Oh wow, Garcia,” Luke choked on his words, his eyes wide. “That reminds me, we brought your favorite wine! Let’s get that opened, yeah?” His skin was the same shade as the Pinot Noir he was currently reaching for.
Garcia smiled and nodded, clapping her hands together before shuffling off to grab three wine glasses from the cupboard. But you were looking up at him with a blinding grin.
Just for show, Luke thought. Just for show.
Penelope returned with a handful of glasses, which she filled with a generous serving of wine and held hers up like she was about to give a toast. Luke groaned. He hadn’t anticipated how much his team would dote over his fake relationship. 
“To you, Y/N. For making my Luke the happiest I’ve ever seen him, and for so many years to come.”
You all clinked your glasses and sipped (in Luke’s case, chugged) before Garcia led them into the living room.
Luke found himself sitting on the couch listening to Rossi tell stories about his early days with the BAU.  Somewhere during the story your fingers laced together.
Luke wasn't sure when it happened or who initiated it.
But he certainly wasn’t complaining.
“God, how he drooled over you. I swear, his jaw dropped to the floor anytime you entered a room.”
Luke was going to kill Rossi. 
You, on the other hand, were laughing hysterically on the couch next to him. Luke was far past the mortification of it all at this point. His team had graciously taken it upon themselves to test if he could actually die of embarrassment. He assumed they’re about halfway there.
Somewhere between the stories of Luke’s desperate pining over you and your fond smiles, Luke had refilled his glass of wine.
He wished he had something stronger, because wine wasn’t exactly cutting it for him in this mess of a conversation.
You, however, looked happy.
Your second glass of wine had caused your cheeks to gently flush, while your full grin was on display. 
“Time for cards!” Garcia announced as she waved everyone into the kitchen. 
Before standing up, you leaned into Luke’s side. “You okay?" 
Your voice was soft. Luke pressed closer to you without thinking about it.
“Yeah. I-I’m fine, just… don’t listen to them, okay? JJ and Rossi are trying to wind me up, and Garcia’s just happy that I’m with someone. I promise I’m not some… some like.. I didn’t… what they said-" 
There was no way to explain what the team had said that wouldn’t result in Luke lying to you. All of those stories were true, they just sounded more pathetic when they were told all together like that.
You shook your head and grinned.
“It’s okay. Besides, if we were actually dating, I think I would be a little angry at you right now for not making a move sooner.” You winked before standing up, holding your hand out for Luke to take. 
Luke pushed himself up from the couch and linked his fingers with yours again, grabbing his glass of wine because he would probably need that to get through this night alive.
“She’s good for you, Luke. I’m glad that you finally mustered up the courage to ask her out.” Rossi clapped Luke on the back as he and you gathered up your things at the end of the evening.
All Luke could do was nod and smile in return.  
You, on the other hand, were in the middle of a shockingly long hug from Garcia, who was making you promise that you’d visit soon. 
Luke bites his lip, wondering if maybe this whole thing had gone too far. How was he supposed to keep up this facade when he showed up at work the next day and everyone asked about you? 
He was still thinking about it when the two of you got into the car.  
You exhaled a breath of relief as soon as you sat down. When you look over, Luke’s staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked. 
Luke shook his head, chuckling uncomfortably. He stared down at his lap for a moment. 
You shifted in your seat, angling your body so that you were facing him. 
“Tell me,” you urge, your voice softening. 
Luke met your gaze, his lips turned into a small smile. “I’m just thinking about what I’m going to tell the team tomorrow.”
Your confused face urges him to continue. 
“I don’t know, I mean they love you- I think more than they love me. They’re gonna be asking about you all the time.  Do we fake a breakup now?”
Without thinking, you reached out to cup Luke’s cheek before leaning in and kissing him, softly and gently. 
You didn’t want to pull your lips away, and suddenly, Luke was kissing you back.  Only when you were desperate for air did you pull away.  
“Were they looking?” Luke asked quietly, still keeping his soft brown eyes locked on you. 
Narrowing your eyebrows, you shake your head. “No,” you tell him.  “No, they weren’t looking.”
Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, his jaw dropping slowly. 
“Luke-” you said slowly, hoping that you weren’t painfully misjudging the situation. “I think we both know that tonight wasn’t fake. Tell me if I’m wrong.”
You both looked at each other in fond silence before Luke nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. 
“Am I wrong?” you asked, your confidence fading quickly. 
Luke shook his head, “No,” he blurted out. “No, you aren’t wrong.”
With a grin you just couldn’t wipe off of your face, you nodded again.  “Good,” you whispered.  
Luke licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they were. “So maybe we don’t have to have a fake break up?” His sentence finished as a question. 
“Luke Alvez,” you said, scooting even closer towards him.  “Are you finally asking me out?”
Luke nodded while simultaneously closing the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss.  You were both smiling into each other’s touch.  
When you finally break apart, your face was flushed and you were out of breath. You smiled, little tears gathering in your eyes that Luke swiped away gently with the pad of his thumb. 
“It’s about time,” you told him smugly. 
477 notes · View notes
dearharriet · 3 months
Text
By Any Other Name; Sirius Black ☕️
“D’you have a name, love?” He was spitting mischief into every word. “Or should I just call you angel face?”
By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didn’t help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.
Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.
“Pleasure to meet you, angel face,” he said cheekily. “You can call me Sirius.”
summary: by the will of mother nature, you meet your charming downstairs neighbor—who has been dying to meet you just as much.
word count: 3K
warnings: fem!r, sexually implicit comments, lots of mentions of underwear and lingerie
authors note: me 🤝🏼 making sirius act like my other favorite scorpio (ryan gosling)
1978. London, England.
+
More than anything in the world, you wished you had a tumble-dryer. The London winds turned brutal in autumn, and you’d lost nearly ten items of clothing before the season was done.
A pretty sundress, a flannel you’d nicked from your father’s dresser. A skimpy little black nighty, the top only lace and the bottom sheer satin.
That one had been the most recent, only the day before. You blamed yourself, really; You thought you’d be coy and hang it outside for the boy downstairs to see, and the wind tore it off the line and blew it to who knows where. Now some creep probably had it in his sock drawer.
Despite all of this, you still did not have a blessed tumble-dryer. Which meant even at present, in wind that might’ve blown your makeup off, you were outside clipping your soggy knickers to the line. Three clips each, thank you very much.
You can’t say it was all that embarrassing. London wasn’t particularly a town of modesty or shame, especially in more recent times. All the ladies along your alley hung their undies out, and no one seemed to mind. Maybe you just lived on an especially progressive block of the city. Whatever it was, you liked it.
You hummed a soft tune as you hung the last piece of clothing on the line, feeling chilly yet accomplished.
The wind had died down just slightly, leaving the clothes swinging on the line—suspended between your building and the one neighboring it. You peeked across to ensure that everything seemed secure, just in time to watch a pair of silky pink undies slip from their clips and fall a story down into the alley.
You clicked your tongue, promptly making your way down the fire escape to retrieve them.
As you rounded the landing to descend the second half of stairs, you were aghast to see the boy from downstairs—the one you so desperately wanted to see your cheeky nightgown—leant against your flat building. He was smoking a cigarette languidly and intently watching your sad knickers which landed before him.
You stammered at first, unsure what to say. The remaining shreds of daylight were reflecting quite stunningly off of his pitch black hair, in a way that was all too distracting. Eventually, you settled for something apologetic.
“God, I’m sorry.” You inched forward until you could bend down and rescue the pink knickers from the filthy ground. You frowned at the specks of dirt on them. You’d have to wash them all over again. Or maybe you should just toss them.
Or cast them into the sea. Perhaps donate them to a bluebird to use for nesting. God, you were embarrassed.
For a split second you became mortified with a scenario where you kept the dirty undies and this handsome-boy-downstairs wanted to shag you, only to find you’re wearing the disgusting alley knickers. Your cheeks grew hot.
You pushed the underwear behind your back then, hoping he didn’t see them in full. When you looked up, he blew a cloud of smoke from his nose and smiled devilishly.
“Not to worry, darling. I’m quite accustomed to women dropping their knickers in front of me.”
Your mouth popped open in shock. A boyish but refined laugh bubbled out of him as you failed to respond.
“D’you have a name, love?” He was spitting mischief into every word. “Or should I just call you angel face?”
By God, he was not pulling any punches. His voice being as silky as your knickers didn’t help, nor did his wicked teeth or his lithe hands. It was a feat of its own to close your mouth, and another altogether to speak.
Your name spilled off his lips with an exhaled drag, hot and smoking and swept away by the wind.
“Pleasure to meet you, angel face,” he said cheekily. “You can call me Sirius.”
“I can’t call you handsome?” You blurted, and Sirius’ smile got so much worse, which is to say humbler and far more genuine.
“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled.
A gust of wind blew and his hair billowed with it, just as he took a final drag of his cigarette. The embers lit his face warmly.
It fit. It definitely fit.
Sirius stomped his smoke out on the cobblestone and brushed his hands off on his slacks.
“I actually have something I want to give you.” Sirius inched toward his flat window, ignoring your pinched brows. “Wait right there.”
Contorting his long limbs, he slipped inside and disappeared.
Within seconds he returned, holding what you instantly recognized as your black nighty. He walked it to you, growing taller with every step.
“Think this belongs to you,” he prodded. You took the garment from him, smiling coyly.
“Do you happen to have any of the other clothes I’m missing?” You accused, and he ducked his head sheepishly.
“Just this one,” he promised, “it fell last Sunday, just here, like your knickers.”
You flushed. “Sorry.”
Sirius’ expression turned boyish. “You should be. I’d have preferred that you came with it.”
The wind picked up again and wafted his cologne with it, something citrusy and clean. A pit stirred in your stomach.
“Maybe next time,” you murmured, and slipped up the fire escape before he could respond.
+
You sincerely didn’t expect to see Sirius after that. Not because you didn’t want to, but because it felt too simple. Too convenient.
Stunning, charming boy downstairs, holding onto your nightclothes to give back to you…
He had to be a creep. There was no other explanation. Or worse—he was only trying to be nice to save you from embarrassment.
You kept running through your conversation with him, adding new motivations and hidden meanings. Each one was like a warning siren, and it kept you from seeking him out.
Sirius, however, was not dissuaded at all.
A week later and it was the turn of November. The winds were cruel and rain barely ever let up, and any sunny day became laundry day.
One fateful, blessed dry Friday, you popped out to hang your loathsome clothes. If being clean was this much trouble, you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore. You were halfway through the soggy hamper when someone downstairs began to whistle.
“Darling, do you do anything but laundry?” A familiar voice called, posh and smug and handsome.
You peeked over the railing, and Sirius was in the alley with an amused grin on his face.
“Do you do anything but watch me do laundry,” you shot back, which made him laugh.
Sirius was making a paper boy cap look very stylish, holding the lip of it to aid his theatrics. There was something quite old fashioned about him, even in his boyish demeanor.
“I like to hear you sing,” he defended. “You have a pretty voice.”
You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You didn’t entirely realize you sang at all. Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around.
“Does this seem a bit cliché?”
You looked around, too, at your balcony and the shaded alley; At Sirius, who was the shining image of a hopeless romantic, ready to profess his undying love.
“I suppose,” you agree. “Wherefore art thou? No—a minute is not enough.“
Sirius pushed his tongue into his cheek, grinning.
“I was imagining something else,” he said. “Let down your hair…Or—your clothesline?”
You snorted.
“Luckily, this damsel has stairs.”
Smile widening, Sirius raised his eyebrows, wondering if you’d meant to invite him up. You nodded, and he took the steps two at a time.
It was charming. While you were still reserved, you couldn’t help but admire his complexities. He’d seemed so subdued upon first meeting him, but now he was almost howling with excitement.
He was completely out of place on your terrace. A sharp and shining bachelor lording over your half-dead plants and damp t-shirts. He looked like he had a tumble dryer, and an iron, too. Or a maid. Definitely a maid. It was a mystery why someone so put together was living on the floor beneath you.
“What,” Sirius asked, looking dubious.
“What?” Your cheeks warmed. You’d been spacing out.
“You’re looking at me weird,” he accused, but he kept a lightness in his voice. “You don’t still think I stole all your clothes, do you?”
“No,” you denied. Then, feeling cheeky, you added, “just the nighty, right?”
He blinked, looking shy again. “Well. It—it fell.”
“Oh, right, my mistake. It fell,” you nodded, and watched his mouth open and close.
“Y’know, most neighbors bake something if they want to make friends,” you continued, enjoying his squirming, his brown pearly loafers scuffing on the grated platform.
You thought he was handsome when you met, with his cavalier confidence and dangerous smile, but seeing him so embarrassed was just as enthralling; His fair skin flushed pink, his broad shoulders hunched…his voice turned raspy and unsure.
“I was never good in the kitchen.” He said it like it was a fatal flaw, unfixable.
“No, of course not,” you said with unwavering mirth. “You’d hire someone to do that, wouldn’t you?”
Sirius’ head snapped up, shocked, confirming your suspicions.
“What are you robbing my clothesline for, rich boy,” you teased, wrinkling your nose at him.
Scratching his jaw, he blew out a bewildered laugh.
“What gave it away?”
You snickered, making a sweeping gesture over him. “What didn’t?”
Sirius looked down at his pressed white dress shirt and well-fitted vest. He then ripped his hat off, deflating.
“Thought I was doing a good job of fitting in,” he muttered.
“Sorry,” you cooed, though you weren’t sure why. It should’ve been insulting, that this upper-class idiot was so upset at seeming as well-off as he was, but he kept striking you with an odd sincerity. He didn’t seem ignorant, he just seemed lost, and you felt sorry for him.
“If it’s any consolation, you look quite handsome.”
Sirius looked up at you through his lashes and shyly smiled.
“Do I?” He needled. You hummed affirmatively.
“If a bit chilly. Who’s been making your cuppas?”
Grabbing your basket, you backed away towards your window and slipped inside. You waited for Sirius to follow, hoping your invitation wasn’t too indirect. Thankfully, he crawled in after you, loitering by the window awkwardly.
“Well, don’t let all the heat out,” you called over your shoulder, dropping the basket onto your couch and bee-lining for the kitchen. Sirius closed the window and meandered further into your space.
“You’re not going to poison me, are you,” he asked from your kitchen threshold, watching you put the kettle on.
“I’m not sure you should be as paranoid as me,” you said, leaning against the counter. “But I’m fresh out, so not this time.”
Sirius laughed. “Oh, good.”
“So,” you started, crossing your arms to mirror him, “who are these girls dropping their undies for you? I’m painfully curious.”
Sirius sucked his teeth, hiding a grin.
“I’m not sure you have enough tea,” he sighed solemnly. “We’d be here all night.”
Eyes tracing over the long hands splayed over his biceps, you bit your lip.
“I can imagine,” you humored. “A pretty boy like you…you never catch a break, do you?”
Sirius looked constantly unprepared for complements like this, and you couldn’t get enough. He was pink and silent and restless, faltering for something witty to reply with.
In the end, he just shook his head.
When the water was hot, you made up Sirius’ tea, and he thanked you shyly as his hand brushed yours. He put far too much sugar in it, and not a spot of milk, but you found that just as charming as the rest of him. You sat at your kitchen table, smiling over your cups.
“I haven’t had a good cuppa in months,” Sirius sighed, spinning his mug in absentminded circles.
“Thought you had a maid,” you prodded, and Sirius’ responding smile was bittersweet.
“Not anymore,” he said quietly, “not for a while.”
You took a slow sip of your tea, watching him carefully. As you set your cup down, you licked your lips, and Sirius instinctively copied you.
“So…no maid.” You leaned back, lifting a brow. “Who presses your clothes, then?”
Sirius frowned. “I do.”
“Oh.” You frowned, too. “But you can’t make a cuppa?”
“I—“ Sirius chuckled. “I can make a cuppa. It just tastes better when someone else makes it.”
“Ah.” Picking up your cup again, you smiled at him. “Well, I’m happy to help.”
Sirius pulled his lip between his teeth as you drank, rubbing his hands on his slacks.
“Well I—“ he cleared his throat, “—I should go.”
Confused, you watched him as he pushed his chair back and stood, ducking to you gratefully.
“So soon,” you complained. It was odd. You’d been avoiding him all week, but once he was around you didn’t want him to go.
“Yes, well. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Sirius smiled kindly, if a little distant.
“Well, I invited you, handsome. That’s hardly intruding.” Your words were intentionally soft and sticky, cloying, to change his mind.
Sirius’s eyes swept over your face for a moment, his mouth chewing on words that never came out. Eventually, he left a thankful caress on your hand, where it laid dormant on the table.
“Thank you for the tea,” he expressed, and then he was gone.
You sat at the table long after he left, until your tea was cold and his empty cup was dry.
+
The whole week after that, you turned your conversation with Sirius over in your mind again and again, looking for what you’d done wrong.
He’d never seemed angry, even as he left. He was almost sullen.
In the days following, it was like he’d never existed. The alley had a Sirius-shaped hole in it every time you hung your clothes, and—as if it was missing him, too—the wind had stopped blowing.
Singing softly, you hung your final garments, enjoying the still evening while you could. When you sucked in a new breath, it was thick with the scent of burning tobacco. You looked down through the slats, and as you expected, Sirius was leaning where he was when you’d first met him.
Sucking your bottom lip, you looked at the cloth in your hands, and then back at Sirius. At the sudden absence of your voice, he’d looked up, and your gaze met his. He stilled, the ash growing perilous on his smoke, and watched as you held your dark nightgown over the railing. You let it go, and watched Sirius sigh, tracking its feathery fall to the ground.
When he looked back up, you were already halfway down the rickety stairs.
“Darling, don’t—“
“You know, it’s rotten manners to leave a girl wondering what she’s done wrong,” you scolded, plucking the gown off of the cobblestones. “Especially after being so charming all the time.”
Sirius winced. “I’m sorry.”
He looked frustratingly good, more casual than you’d ever seen him. His hair was messy and his collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow. It only made you bolder.
“Well,” you prodded, “won’t you at least tell me?”
He furrowed his brows, his cigarette long forgotten between his fingers.
“Tell you what?”
“What I did,” you huffed, exasperated.
His face crumpled.
“Darling,” Sirius stressed, “nothing. You’re the loveliest neighbor I’ve ever had.”
The compliment felt like an insult, calculatedly detached, and you wondered if you’d invented the whole thing in your head.
“Why’d you leave, then?”
Sirius shifted, his expensive shoes crunching on the ground.
“I didn’t want to impose.”
Unbelieving, you shook your head in disappointment. It must’ve been something awfully offensive if he still wouldn’t tell you.
“I can’t afford the expensive teas, so if it tasted odd—“
“—Love, it wasn’t the tea, it’s—“ Sirius licked his lips, hesitating. “I shouldn’t have taken it.”
Lost, the corners of your mouth pulled down. Sirius sighed.
“The gown, I—“ He gestured to the satin in your hands. “It was inappropriate. I’m sorry.”
Avoiding your eyes, he finally ashed his cigarette, but left it abandoned in his hand. Stepping closer, you batted your lashes at his shameful face.
“Sirius, if it worried me, I wouldn’t have invited you inside.”
“It should worry you!” His face contorted. “It was manipulative and debauched—“
“Debauched!” You grinned, eyes bright. “What exactly did you do to my nightgown, hm?”
Sirius’ mouth pursed disapprovingly. “Love, please.”
You stepped closer, pouting.
“You didn’t imagine me in it?” Sirius shook his head passionately, but his cheeks warmed. “Shame. I hung it for you, you know.”
Sucking in a breath, his cigarette met the ground as you waded closer. You reached out, tugging on the top button of his vest.
“Will it take a cyclone for you to ask me out?”
Sirius let out a heavy breath and shook his head. When he said no more, you tilted your head and pulled him into you.
“Well then?”
His eyes searched yours.
“Go on,” you said. “I’m not sure someone who likes his tea with seven sugars could be very scary.”
Brightening, Sirius took your hand where it fiddled with his vest. You watched with heat in your chest as he brought it to his face and pressed his mouth to it. He then turned it over and did the same to your open palm.
“Could I please take you out, angel face?” His breath was hot on the inside of your hand, sending chills up your neck. “To repay you for the stunning cuppa?”
Chuckling, you traced a feather-light finger over his jaw.
“Certainly.” You licked over your teeth. “I’ll wear my driest knickers.”
His smile slipped into wicked territory.
“Don’t sweat it, love.” A big hand smoothed over your shoulder, and you melted. “You’ll only be wasting your time.”
+
thank you for reading! 🦢
masterlist
213 notes · View notes
minihotdog · 2 months
Text
Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You took the tea)
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, sexist-type humor, size kink
Word Count: 3k
Previous part
Tumblr media
“You want some tea, love?”
***
You’re now sitting at the small round dinner table watching as he tilts the kettle into the mugs. He walks the mugs over to the table and sits across from you.
“Didn’t have anyone to stay with, did you?” He asks before taking a sip.
“I sure didn’t. Everyone is still avoiding me like the plague.” You stare down at the mug. 
“It’ll end soon.” He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb. The action catches your attention and he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes. For a stone-cold man, he sure was catching himself smirking a lot tonight. 
“When I showed up to my first unit I got the same, and the unit after that.” The two of you drink simultaneously.
“What? They ignored you?”
“No,” He chuckles softly. “My first unit, they held me down and branded me with a shite-looking coat of arms made from a wire clothes hanger.”
You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand.
“What?! Where?!”
“My bum.”
You snort, “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You cover your face with your hands. His shoulders rise and fall with soft laughter.
“It is a little.”
“Did they ever get in trouble? Reprimanded?”
“Never told anyone, ran into them at my next unit and pummeled them into the ground.”
“Bravo!” You celebrate with your hands in the air. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Then I was disciplined for the beatin’ they got but it was worth it.”
“I agree, they had it coming.”
You take another gulp of your tea enjoying the spread of warmth inside of you.
“You’re quite fond of trouble.” He states flatly. You still, squinting at him in suspicion.
“What makes you say that?”
“Your files,” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Lengthy history of discipline, being reprimanded.”
You hum in response. “Is that the word on the street?”
He grins, his hand coming up to stroke his stubble before he sits back with his arms crossed looking at you. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I’ve gotten in trouble a couple of times in my career, what about it?”
“How long have you been in?”
“Five years.”
“You’re tellin’ me that you’ve been reprimanded nearly every single year you’ve been in?” He now leans on the table looking over at you with a dumbfounded look.
“Shit happens, I have no problem taking responsibility for it.”
“I didn’t take you for the type to cause trouble.”
“I’m not, I just don’t have the grace other people do. I do something stupid and get caught immediately.”
“You’re right about that. You’re a naughty one, for sure.” He says before downing the remaining liquid in his mug.
He smirks to himself letting his eyes roam over your shoulders.
"I heard that boyfriend of yours was a calvary bum." He pokes, changing the subject. 
You "tsk" at him. Once everyone found out about your now ex-boyfriend they never let you live it down.
"What's his job got to do with anything?"
Simon shrugs, feigning ignorance, “Assumed a woman like you preferred men, that’s all.”
“Oh, hush!” You bite back a laugh refusing to meet his eyes. 
“I bet he cried like a child at the thought of going to the field.”
“That’s enough out of you!” You reach over the table to cover his mouth. He fights you off taking your wrists in his hands. He stands and walks to your side of the table gently pulling up by the wrists. His massive frame takes most of your view, you can’t help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach having him tower over you.
“Poor bird, spendin’ her nights with half a man. Bet he didn’t have a clue what he was doin’.”
The warmth you felt from the tea was traveling up to your cheeks. He was so close you could smell the rich cologne in his skin. His hands were so rough but warm on your pulse. 
Your eyes focus on his lips.
“Did he?” The gravel of his voice makes a shiver run through your spine. You gulp before responding.
”He was… enthusiastic.”
Simon laughs hoarsely, “Enthusiastic?” He enunciates with a shit-eating grin.
”Why is my sex life a topic of conversation to my Lt.?” You suddenly get some courage.
”You think I haven’t noticed you droolin’ over me, love. Peakin’ at me from afar. Now you show up to my flat with your tits fallin’ out of your top, your bare ass out, and a broken heart from some lad not worth the air he breathes.” He drops his head forcing you to meet his eyes. “Quite the coincidence, innit?”
”I think it’s more of a happy coincid-“ He breaks your sentence off catching your lips with his. Your brain pushes you out of your frozen state and the two of you begin moving in unison. He slowly releases your wrists and moves his hands to your waist. Your hands run down his chest.
He deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan softly as his tongue plays with yours. He pulls you against him, one hand over yours on his chest the other at the small of your back. You feel lightheaded, not in a bad way, quite the opposite. You’d fantasized about your Lt. plenty of times, his touch, the scars he hid beneath his army green top, the way his lips felt - come to find out they were soft, unlike the rest of him. His hands keep setting you ablaze when they touch your skin, the callouses nearly make your eyes roll back.
He growls into the kiss, tearing himself away from you. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and you grab onto his shoulders. He lifts and places you on the table, forcing himself between your legs. He bites at your neck, pulling you into him. You grip the table feeling as if you could slide off at any second. 
He eats up every single gasp he gets out of you. His teeth graze your collar bone and he sucks on the sensitive skin. Your nails run over his scalp down to the back of his neck drawing a groan from him.
He stops for a moment to let you catch your breath.
”You want this, love?” He leans his forehead against yours looking into your eyes.
“God, yes!” You exasperate. 
He chuckles, still looking into your eyes.
”Hold on.”
”What do you-“ 
You squeal as he lifts you off the table and rushes to wrap your arms around his neck. You rest your head on his neck relishing in the feeling of his body against yours. Warmth radiated off of him like a furnace, the feel of his skin so addictive.
He carries you to the couch placing his knee on the cushions before gently placing you on your back. He follows you down and your hands run down his bare back.
He supports himself with one arm, the other trails down to your aching core, cupping the mound. He lets out a ragged breath once he feels the heat burning through you. He moves to pull your shorts off, dragging them up your legs and tossing them off to the side.
”Fuckin’ hell,” He groans at the sight of your bare pussy. “Such a bad girl walking around without knickers.”
He gives you one last hypnotizing kiss before brushing his lips in between your breasts. He kisses each one and carries on down your stomach and lands right above your clit.
You panic inside, you prop yourself up on your elbows, “Lt.”
”Fuck’s sake, love. As much as I love hearin’ you call me that, say my name, will you?” He laughs light-heartedly. You smile behind your hand trying not to break out in giggles. 
“What is it?” His eyebrows pull together.
”You don’t have to do that if you don’t want.”
”Eat you out?” He looks at you confused.
You nod slowly, embarrassed at the question.
He “Tsks” at you lowering himself once again while muttering something along the lines of, “Calvary muppet took the fun out of pussy, didn’t he?”
”I’m serious! You don’t have to!” You spit out frantically.
“Shut up, doll.”
He licks a stripe up your cunt and moans softly to himself. Your lips part in disbelief. He slowly laps at your clit and you lower yourself onto your back. He decides not to work you too fast yet, scared you’d pass out after being neglected by that dumb bloke for so long. 
You whine softly, legs already shaking. He wraps his arms around your thighs and presses them against his head.
He gently sucks on your clit and your hand shoots down to his head. The feeling of you tugging one his short locs encourages him to speed up. His lips wrap around your clit and toys with it as he pleases. The pace causes you to clamp your thighs around his head on your own.
Moans pour from your lips as your back arches. His hands stroke your thighs as you restrain yourself from pushing his head down further.
”Simon! Oh god!” Your mouth hangs open. You look down at him and nearly orgasm seeing him between your legs. His eyes are blown out, his thumb caresses your skin.
He lets go of one thigh and his fingers tap at your entrance gathering your wetness. He pushes two of his fingers inside you and your head falls back. Your vision goes fuzzy and you clamp your eyes shut. His fingers pump into you hitting your g-spot each time.
Your hand flies to your mouth and you let out a high-pitched moan. You chant his name tightening around his fingers. He feels your walls clamp down and continues pumping letting you ride it out. Your hips twitch, your thighs trap him where he is. 
He waits until you go limp to pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
”Fuck, you made a mess.” He groans. He climbs above you and peppers your face with kisses. “Was that alright, love?” 
You open your eyes to meet his, all you can do is nod unable to trust yourself to talk. He smirks at you, proud of himself for leaving you in such a state.
”You think you can take me, love, or do you need some time?”
”Want you so bad,” You whine out.
He lowers his head for a chaste kiss and pulls himself up onto his feet. He drops his sweats revealing the thick muscle of his thighs. His cock slaps his thigh as he throws his sweats onto the floor, the weight of it keeping it down. Your eyes meet his member and a wave of nervousness comes over you. His length was impressive but the thickness was your biggest concern. 
“Hey! You weren’t wearing underwear either, hypocrite!”
He rolls his eyes at you with a smile. A sight so beautiful you can’t help but smile back.
He takes his earlier position above you and aligns himself with your entrance. He looks up at you and you feel his tip poking into you already.
”Ready, doll?”
You nod at him.
”Say it.” He whispers.
”I-I’m ready.”
”Alright then.” He nudges your forehead with his before the two of you look down to watch the sinful show of him slowly sliding into you. You gasp, hands going to his back. He moves at a snail’s pace letting you adjust as he goes. He cradles your head, forehead against yours trying to keep his breathing steady.
”Ah, tight little thing.” He rasps out.
Your mouth hangs open, your nails digging into his skin, legs hugging his waist once he fills you to the hilt. He waits a moment before slowly sliding out halfway and bringing himself back to the same depth. Your whines draw out. His tip hits the deepest parts of you so well that you nearly begin drooling.
He examines your face for any sign of discomfort before nudging your neck with his nose. He begins with a moderate pace as he kisses along your jaw. You wrap your arms around him, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head. 
The stretch from his cock stings slightly, the overwhelming pleasure sending tingles through your bones making it hard to notice. He continues rocking his hips into yours letting you enjoy the feel of him without anything too overwhelming. You mewl into his ear as he stretches you over and over.
”Fuck, so good,” You whine.
His hand comes down to grip your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, circling it gently. He slides his legs up kneeling with you in between his thighs. He stops, letting you catch your breath and he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He suckles the nub, playing with it with his warm tongue. He thumbs your clit as he treats the nub like a candy. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you down onto his cock, dragging you down the cushions fucking you onto him for a while. 
He angles his hips to hit all the right places, your cunt throbs around him when he hits your g-spot head on causing you to gasp.
”Oh fuck! Right there!” Your hands cling onto his forearms for dear life as he goes on to hit the spot repeatedly until it nearly hurts. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every thrust. He picks up his pace, throttling that poor little sensitive spot. Your back arches painfully. He takes advantage of it and throws his hand under your waist keeping you in the position swinging you down to meet his thrusts.
He stuffs you with his cock relentlessly. You become a mess beneath him struggling to get words out, just high-pitched moans filling the room.
”God! Oh god!” 
“He’s not here, love. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He orders.
The feeling grows inside you pulling the air from your lungs. He nips the skin below your breasts and licks a stripe between them to your neck. Your pussy flutters around him before you fall deep into euphoria, his name pours from you. Your ears ring and eyes wire themselves shut as you clamp down around him. Tears pour from your eyes involuntarily. 
The sequence of flutters pulls him back into you making it too difficult to pull out too far. He buries his head in your chest as he’s pulled over the edge. He moans into your skin as your body sucks him back in, milking him so hard he blinks trying to rid himself of the fog. He begins spilling into you, his white hot streams shooting out at high velocity. He paints your walls so thoroughly that you feel his cock twitching with every spasm. 
His cum spills out of you not having any more room to fill. You gush around him and he quietly gasps. 
The two of you stay like this for what could’ve been an eternity. The post-orgasmic haze engulfs the both of you. He keeps himself inside and lowers himself onto his side, dragging you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He pulls you into his sweaty heaving chest and kisses your forehead. 
He feels a wetness on his thumb and pulls back, wiping away your tears.
”What’s happened, Y/n?” He asks, concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He moves to pull himself out of you and you grab him, bringing him to a stop. “You’re crying, love.”
”That was amazing.” You mumble, eyes struggling to open.
”You cryin’ because it was good?” He laughs, a big goofy smile plasters itself on his face. You force your eyes open to peek at him. 
“You smile so pretty.”
He pulls you back to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you.
”Thank you, love.” You could still hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put to bed, yeah?”
”Too sleepy.” You complain.
”It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” Against your protests, he lifts himself slowly and positions himself to pull out of you. He gives you a single nudge with his cock still sheathed and you nearly purr. 
He pulls out slowly.
”Jesus, I’m gonna need a new couch.” He mutters. His cum spills from you, his eyes glued to your core watching it slowly pour out. His cock twitches and he has to look away. There was no way you were in shape for another round. Thankfully the memory was burned into his mind - the best thing he’d ever seen, next to you of course. 
He lets you know he’ll be back and you hear water rushing down the hall. He returns moments later and slides his hands under you.
”Bath time,” He says in a sing-song-y voice. You giggle, lacing your fingers behind his neck. He lifts you in his arms and looks into your eyes. “You were wonderful.” He pecks your lips and carries you off to his bathroom placing you in the bathtub before sliding in behind you.
”I don’t have a hair tie but I’ll try with some string,” He says mostly to himself. The warm water only reaches your belly button, once he slides behind you it rises a few inches. He wraps your hair into a funny-looking bun and ties it with the piece of string he found.
” Ta-da.” 
“Thank you, Simon.” You say sweetly leaning back against him. He holds you against him and you feel something poke into your back.
”Sorry, love. It’ll go down, I don’t expect you to stay awake long enough for another one.”
You moan in response and sigh letting the water nearly lull you to sleep. 
“Wait,” you breathe out. “Does me saying your name turn you on?”
He doesn’t respond. You try to look up at him but he tightens his hold not wanting you to see the red spawning over his face.
”Siiiiimon”
”Oh, hush.” He imitates your voice.
”Hey!”
He grabs his loofa and begins lathering you in bubbles.
”C’mon, I wanna get you in bed before you fall asleep.”
He cleans every bit of you, focusing on your breasts because no matter how much he denied it at that moment, he was still a dog. He hands you a bath bomb that he saved in case he ever had a special someone stay over and let you watch it fizz up as he cleans himself.
He dries you off and plops you down on his massive bed wearing his t-shirt. By the time he throws on his boxers you’re fast asleep under the covers, engulfed in his scent.
He slides next to you pulling you into his arms. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and whispers into your hair, “You’re mine now, doll. All mine.”
Tumblr media
216 notes · View notes
hypnoneghoul · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
@xxwhiskeyxx
Pull Me Down Again
WC: 2,7K
Relationship: Swiss & Mountain
Tags: Soft anal sex, first time, love confessions, fluffy smut
“I’d love to help, but your first time has to be special, so if you don’t want to have it with me, I underst–”
“NO! No, please, I’d never want it to be anyone else, I want you. Please, Mountain."
Notes: Swissalps' first time is not a topic I fool around about. I couldn't do it half-assed, so here's nearly 3k words of them being stupid and cute and in love and fucking about it
Read under the cut or on AO3.
Swiss had always been a lot. He had crawled out of the summoning circle uninvited—with a toothy grin and fiery eyes—but he had fitted right in and everyone had loved him right away. He’d loved them all, too, but his eyes had been fixed on one specific ghoul from the very beginning.
Mountain. The moment he’d seen the giant standing over him in the humid and moldy ritual chamber, stoic, but obviously ready to pounce if the new ghoul would decide to attack any of his packmates or Papa. Swiss hadn’t, of course, but when he thought back to that moment, he knew that even if he did have such plans, Mountain’s look alone would stop him.
He had been truly scary in that moment, but Swiss had immediately felt something else about him, too. Something the multi ghoul would recognize as the feeling of safe and home, if he had ever known them in the Pit.
When Swiss had gotten up—he had stayed down until the two ghoulettes who’s summoning he hijacked had left with the pack, not wanting to risk looking like a threat in any way—he’d swayed and stumbled on his feet, and had fallen right into the giant’s arms. He’d tensed, afraid, but Mountain’s touch was gentle. Something Swiss had never experienced before.
The earth ghoul’s face had finally softened and he’d smiled down at the slightly dumbfounded ghoul as he’d scooped him up. Swiss wasn’t especially big, nearly a runt in his old pack in the Pit—though most of the ghoul’s he had just seen were even smaller—but he wasn’t small either, and Mountain had picked him up like he weighed nothing.
“Welcome Topside,” Mountain had rumbled and Swiss felt something warm bloom in his chest.
Months later, Swiss was completely and utterly in love. So enchanted by the earth ghoul that he lost any and all composure every time he and Mountain would be in the same room. He was just perfect, so smart and beautiful and strong and gentle and–
“Hey, Swiss, you there?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Mountain’s voice.
“Yeah, uhm, h– hi,” he squeaked, cheeks burning. The earth ghoul chuckled at his fluster as he flopped down onto the couch next to Swiss. So close their thighs ended up touching and the multi ghoul’s gut twisted.
(Mountain knew exactly how stupid Swiss was about him and truth be told he was no better. The only thing he was better at was acting and not being so obvious. There was an unspoken rule amongst the ghoul’s to not offer any new summons to join the pack’s sexual and romantic dynamics until they properly settled Topside. Usually three-four months was safe, and for Swiss it had been five. Mountain was irrevocably in love with him and he didn’t want to wait anymore.)
“Any plans for the evening, darling?” the earth ghoul asked and watched Swiss’ blush get impossibly deeper in real time.
He swallowed thickly, “D– darling?”
“Not good? I just felt like it fits.”
“No, it’s– it’s nice,” Swiss mumbled and Mountain grinned. 
“Well, then?”
“Then… what?”
The earth ghoul laughed, “I asked you if you had any plans for the evening.”
“OH, oh, yeah, right, you did.” Swiss’ ears drooped and he hung his head, suddenly very interested in a certain loose thread on his jeans. “No plans.”
“In that case, would you like to spend it with me?” Mountain put a hand on the other’s thigh and the multi ghoul jumped, heat flooding him.
“Y– yeah, yes, sure,” Swiss sputtered, looking up at him to send him a little smile.
Mountain squeezed his thigh before letting go and getting up. “See you later, then. It’s a date.”
The next few hours were a torture. Swiss was anxious—terrified, really—but excited. He had no idea what Mountain would want to do with him, but he knew he’d fuck it up somehow. He didn’t know what a date really meant, so he looked it up on that tiny touchy device he was given, and the results terrified him even more. Dates were for people in love and a lot of times ended up in sex. Was that Mountain’s way of saying he did like him and maybe–
Now, Swiss knew what sex was, but he never had a chance to… participate in the act. There’s no breeding or mating opportunities for multi ghoul runts down in the Pit. He knew the feeling—roughly—he did know how to get off, relieve some pressure and pent up energy, but actual sex? With Mountain?
He came to a conclusion he’d simply die.
The earth ghoul hadn’t given him a specific time or place for when and where they should meet, so Swiss prepared himself mentally pretty early, and waited for a sign he should move. It came in a form of a text message and the multi ghoul nearly jumped out of his skin when his silly device buzzed in his pocket. Mountain told him to meet him by his room in five. Clear request, Swiss could do that.
Those five minutes were probably the longest in Swiss’ entire life, but finally he made it to the earth ghoul’s room. Mountain opened the door and his knees buckled. “Been waiting for you, darling.”
“Hi,” Swiss mumbled and dropped his eyes to the floor, the sight of Mountain in a shirt too much for him to handle. He let him in and prompted him to sit on the edge of his bed.
Swiss thought Mountain started talking, but he was too busy staring at him and taking him whole in to pay attention to what was falling from his perfect, full lips, looking so soft.
“...wiss, hey, Swiss, are you okay?” the earth ghoul waved an elegant, long fingered hand right in front of his face to snap him back to reality. Mountain’s brows were furrowed with honest worry. Swiss must’ve really spaced out.
Suddenly he couldn’t bear to wait any longer.
“You are so fucking gorgeous and smart and kind and I can’t not think about you all the time and you turn me into putty of a flustered mess and I think I’m in love with– no, I know I’m in love and you and it’s so bad it hurts and–”
Mountain stopped him with a finger placed over his lips, grinning with a glint in his eyes that couldn’t have been described with any different word than mischievous. Swiss stared at him with wide eyes, face burning after that bout of bravery.
“I think I’m in love with you, too, darling,” the earth ghoul purred, taking his finger off of Swiss’ lips and cupping his face with his hand instead.
“Thank fuck,” Swiss breathed out with a chuckle as relief washed over him. Mountain scooted closer, their legs now touching.
“May I?” he asked and Swiss remembered that.
“I– I’ve never…” he mumbled, “don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I could never be disappointed with you. I’ll teach you everything, if you’ll let me.”
“Please, Mountain. Please do.” The earth ghoul smiled and leaned in, cupping the back of Swiss’ head with his free hand and pressing their lips together. Swiss let out a sweet little nose when they met, melting into the kiss and Mountain’s arms. Feeling nothing but contentement from the multi ghoul, he deepened the kiss, slowly exploring him.
Neither of them knew if they made out like that—all lovely and gently—for ten minutes or an hour. At some point Swiss ended up laid out on the plush bed with Mountain hovering over him as he peppered the multi ghoul’s face with kisses, making him giggle like a teenage girl. Nothing was rushed, they enjoyed just feeling each other and kissing until they were breathless, only to move to kissing the other somewhere else. It was perfect.
Until Swiss got anxious. He tensed when he felt something low in his gut stirring, afraid that it was still not what Mountain would want from him, that he’d mess up their good time by popping a boner. The earth ghoul felt his sudden hesitation. He pulled away. “Everything okay, darling?”
“Yeah, I just– I don’t want my body to ruin it,” he mumbled, embarrassed.
“What do you mean– oh.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re really hot and I’ve been literally dreaming about this and I’m a dumbass who can’t control–”
“It’s okay.” Mountain stopped his rambling again, this time with a kiss. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, we can proceed however you want. We can pause so you can take care of it on your own… or I can help you.”
Swiss stammered, “W– would you? But I’ve never…”
“I would, I’d love to,” the earth ghoul assured, “but your first time has to be special, so if you don’t want to have it with me, I underst–”
“NO! No, please, I’d never want it to be anyone else, I want you. Please, Mountain, I want it to be you,” Swiss pleaded, clinging to Mountain’s shoulder with an iron grip. Once he realized he was doing it he let go, not wanting to hurt him.
“Okay,” he huffed with a smile, “okay, darling, we can do that. I’m honored, but are you absolutely sure?”
Swiss nodded frantically, “Yes, yes, yes.”
Mountain leaned down to kiss him once more before pulling away to unbutton his shirt. The multi ghoul’s mouth fell open as more and more skin was revealed and Mountain smirked. He wasn’t vain, but he wouldn’t lie and say Swiss’ reactions didn’t fuel some weird fire inside him.
“Like what you see, don’t you, darling?”
“Uh-uh.”
The earth ghoul chuckled at his sophisticated response and threw the shirt completely off. “Your turn.”
Swiss snapped out of his trance—but didn’t take his eyes off of Mountain—and with shaky fingers tried to take care of his own shirt. He was too shaky, though, and failed miserably on the buttons. After a few moments of watching his struggle intently, the earth ghoul batted his hands away and opened his shirt for him. Meanwhile, Swiss looked as if drool would start trailing down his chin any moment.
Soon enough—but not as soon as it could’ve been—they were both naked and now Swiss actually was drooling at the sight of the earth ghoul’s beautiful cock. He was also anxious, intimidated by its size.
As he was staring at his dick, Mountain was warming up lube between his fingers. He was kneeling between Swiss’ legs, calves on Mountain’s thighs, nicely spread and waiting. He may have been a blushing virgin, but at that point he was so focused on the earth ghoul he couldn’t care less about being exposed. For the first time ever like this.
“Ready?” he asked. Swiss nodded frantically, but Mountain only tutted. “Words, darling.”
“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” he begged as he bent his legs and opened them further.
The other smiled, leaned down to kiss Swiss’ knee and brought his hand to his hole. With his eyes locked on the multi ghoul’s own to watch out for any signs of discomfort, Mountain pressed a finger in.
“Oh,” Swiss huffed. “That’s… weird, but nice.”
“You’ve never even put anything up here?”
“N– n–oh,” he broke off into a moan when Mountain crooked his fingers and hit his prostate. “Just a– a quick handy now and t– then.”
The earth ghoul hummed in acknowledgement and continued slowly working him open, his free hand smoothing up and down Swiss’ thigh soothingly.
He was floating. He had no idea that sex was all that. He knew the concept, but only from the Pit, where everything was about survival. Sex there was quick and feral and rarely about pleasure. This? This was as close to heaven as any ghoul could ever get.
The multi ghoul zoned out a bit, drowning in love that Mountain was showering him in. He had never before felt so… important.
Mountain squeezed his thigh assuringly as he pulled his fingers out. (When did he get four in there?) “Swiss, are you with me? I need you to listen for me now, okay?”
“Uh-uh… yeah.”
“This is the part where I… put it in. Are you still down, are you sure? I can and will stop at any moment if you need me to, but there’s no going back once that line is crossed,” he explained and while normally it would sound painfully patronizing, Swiss felt nothing but kindness and caring from Mountain.
“I trust you, Mountain,” the multi ghoul said, trying to sound as coherent as possible for that one moment. “I want you and I’m sure of it. I am in love with you.”
“Okay,” he muttered and rose on his knees, moving to hover over Swiss. One hand next to his head, the other on his hip, holding protectively but not possessively. Not yet.
Mountain kissed him and guided his cock to Swiss’ ass.
“I love you,” he whispered against his lips and pushed in. The multi ghoul moaned into Mountain’s mouth as he kept going deeper and deeper, Swiss’ legs wrapped around his middle, until his hips were flush against the other’s. “Okay?”
“S– so, so okay,” Swiss breathed out. “But, uhm… I don’t think it's gonna be a long ride.”
Mountain chuckled, giving the other a moment to adjust, “Me neither, darling, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
“You gonna fuck me on every surface Topside in that time?”
“Probably. If you’re good I may let you fuck me, too.”
“That’s a good– fuck, incentive,” the multi ghoul giggled, making Mountain laugh at him, too. “Can we, uh, can you move now? Please?”
Mountain nodded and slowly pulled out, just to push back in with a bit more purpose, but equal amounts of gentleness. Swiss moaned, all fucked out, and the earth ghoul took it as a good sign. He picked up a slow but solid rhythm, hitting the other’s prostate with every thrust, causing waves of pleasure to wash over him.
As for Mountain himself, he was barely holding onto his sanity. Swiss was so tight, wet and warm, it was pure bliss. He’d never let himself lose composure in such a moment, but he knew for sure there would be a time he’d fuck the multi ghoul into a true mess.
“M– Mountain, I– I’m– I’m gonna–”
“That’s okay. It’s alright, darling,” he assured, speeding up just a little bit. Swiss hooked his arms around the earth ghoul’s neck and brought him down for a desperate, borderline filthy kiss. Mountain brought a hand to cup his face to return it, albeit a little gentler than Swiss did. “Are you gonna come for me, hm?”
“Yes– fuck,” he whined loudly. “Please, and– and you… in, Mountain, please.”
“Mhm,” Mountain hummed and doubled down on pushing Swiss to the brink of his orgasm. It didn’t take much—barely a few thrusts—before the multi ghoul was going rigid in his arms, clenching around his cock and spilling white between them with a pretty little noise falling from his lips. “There we go, my darling. My sweet darling.”
He was beyond words in the throes of the best orgasm of his entire life. Mountain didn’t need much more to come himself, but a bolt of anxiety shot through him at the sight of tears in Swiss' eyes. He never prayed for anything before, but at that moment he was praying that it was good tears.
“Swiss? Swiss, darling, are you okay?” he asked as soon as he saw some brain return to the multi ghoul as they were coming down.
“Yeah, no, it’s good. So good,” he said, all breathless. “It’s just… I’ve never… I wasn’t ever anyone’s anything, much less someone’s darling.”
Mountain smiled, relieved. “I love you, my heart,” he whispered into Swiss’ lips, following it with a kiss between his horns.
“Your heart, now, hm?” the multi ghoul hummed, half-asleep under him already.
“Yeah. Yeah, you are.”
170 notes · View notes
peterparkersnose · 11 months
Text
Throne
pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: smut, sugar daddy themes (not au), undefined relationship, dominance, teasing, aegon can be such a fucking asshole, guilt tripping, neck play, angst, public pleasuring, punishments (yay), dirty talk, fem!receiving oral, fingering, begging, delayed orgasm, blood play, degradation, aftercare, aegon's ownership of reader
a/n ok ok ok i actually really enjoyed writing this smut. so much. i just love me a good dominant man that does what he wants (within reason ofc we love consent here)
summary Y/N is taught a lesson by Aegon
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 11 mins 1 second
Tumblr media
“What is it?” she asked, bursting into the throne room angrily. No bows, no titles, just anger.
Aegon smirked at her devilishly, watching her approach him with such an angsty tone.
“I cannot just simply ask for you to pay me a visit?” he asks, unfolding his legs from the childish position on the Iron Throne and straightening his back.
“I don’t like being torn from my studies just because you wish to see me.”
He laughs out loud, almost mockingly. “A ‘Hello your Majesty’ and perhaps a bow would have done.” Aegon scoffed, staring her body up and down like she was a new shiny toy. He noticed the dress she was wearing; the one he had commissioned for her after she was such a good girl after their previous endeavors together. She earned it- she deserved it. 
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Aegon said, rubbing his legs until he got to his knees and finally stood.
“Have you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and walking closer to him.
“It’s rude to deny your king of what he wishes. I called upon you nearly an hour ago.” Aegon declares as he skips down the stairs, meeting her halfway and softly grabbing her wrists. He was just as an impatient man as he was a gruesome King. He holds her at arm’s length, looking her up and down once again with hungry eyes. 
“And you are what I currently desire.”
She catches her breath as she stares at him. “You called me out of my studies… for this?”
She stares at him, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The room feels suffocating as if the tension between them has thickened the air. Her initial confusion morphs into a wave of disappointment and frustration, evident in the deep furrow that forms between her brows.
Her disgust was off-putting to him. With a menacing glare, so different from the adoring one he had for her moments ago, he pulled her close and brought his fingers to her chin, and forced her to stare into his gaze. His face contorts, momentarily betraying a flicker of vulnerability, as her disgust pierces through his facial facade. In response, his expression transforms, and his previously adoring gaze is replaced by a cold stare that bores into her soul. “I can do what I want, when I want. I am the King. Do you understand?” 
The weight of his words hangs heavily in the air, a chilling reminder of his position of authority. 
She does not reply, her lips tightly sealed as she gazes into his tired eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days. In fact, it was clear that he hasn't slept in days. The exhaustion seeps into every fiber of his appearance, affecting his posture, his movements, and even the cadence of his voice. His shoulders sag, burdened by the weight of ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and perhaps watching over her every movement. She wasn’t obedient enough yet for his liking, evident by her previous actions of the day. 
“Do you understand?” he asks once again, this time with more anger backing up his tone. Aegon was not one to be denied, especially when he felt such ownership over her. His grasp on her wrists became tighter as his breath now drew on her ears. “You act like you don’t deserve this dress. I had it made for you. Act like you deserve it, love.” 
“I’m sorry…” she whispered, closing her eyes as his words flew through her. She let out a shuttered breath. 
Aegon smirked at her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a kind smirk to most, but she could recognize the evil behind his mask. “Not good enough,” he groaned. 
“Perhaps you shouldn’t wear it anymore. You are misbehaving, hm? What happens to disobedient girls? Do they get to keep all the presents they were so gracefully gifted?”
Aegon’s hand moved to her neck, softly squeezing it. It didn’t harm her, if anything it would be seen as comforting. But she knew, she knew how Aegon worked. His hand traveled from her neck to her collarbone, touching the stone necklace that rested on her chest. “So pretty,” he whispered, fingering the stone. As he got bored of that, his hand traveled to her neckline. Right between her cleavage, he dipped his fingers under her hem, feeling the top of her breasts. 
She looked beyond him and to the Iron Throne, feeling the oh, so familiar guilt mixed with pleasure wave crash upon her once again. 
Aegon’s fingers moved from her chest, following the hem of the neckline of the dress up to her sleeve, and pushed her left sleeve down exposing her shoulder. “What shall your punishment be?” he asks her, bending over slightly to kiss her shoulder ever so softly. His hand moved to her cheek now, cupping it and forcing her to look at him once again. 
“Punishment? What for?” she asked. He couldn’t tell if she was toying with him or being serious. He let out a cruel little laugh. “For being late to my summoning and disobedient to your King.” he scoffed, stating his words like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
“You treat me as such even though I treat you so kindly. Do you know how many coins this dress cost the crown?” he asked, pulling down her other sleeve. She shook her head no.
“More than I pay any one of these useless studs in a year.” he said, looking around at the six guards that stood obediently in the throne room. They all looked the same and sat perfectly still, their only intention to protect this arrogant man and the crown. 
She quite adored the dress. Aegon really did well with this gift, it was spot on to what she wished for. Perhaps above her wildest dreams of what it could be, it most definitely exceeded her expectations from their… their strange agreement. The dress, in every aspect, seemed tailor-made for her. It was neck tied with a few buttons around the back of her neck and with a short sleeve. It was colored a deep gold and bronze. The colors seemed to breathe life into the fabric, casting a radiant glow that shimmered with every movement she made. The neckline plunged, showing off her assets quite nicely. It had beautiful traditional embroidery, one fit for a noble of quite high standings. The waistline, designed with precision and purpose, hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her frame with a subtle grace. A bust of gold adorned the ensemble, meeting at her navel and drawing attention to her slender waist, creating a beautiful pattern that enhanced her natural beauty. It was floor length and seemed fit for a Queen. 
“You will behave. Even if I have to teach you a lesson. It’ll do you better than any of those stupid Septas teaching you how to be a Lady.” he whispered to her, now grabbing her hand at her side and entwining his fingers with hers. It was a surprisingly kind gesture, one she didn’t expect from him. 
He led her to stand in front of the Iron Throne, her back to the chair and he stood a step below her. It felt almost wrong, as he was the King and she was just a noble Lady. She looked at him with a confused face, unsure of what he was doing. Aegon had a terrible grin displayed as he looked her up and down once more. Aegon placed his hand on her stomach, pushing her back into the throne. 
“Aegon what are you…”
He shushed her quickly and harshly. 
“You will obey. Do you hear me?”
She nodded. He got down on his knees, reaching out one of his hands for her to place her hand in. He graciously accepted her hand, kissing it slowly, giving each finger its deserved attention. She was flushed, embarrassed at what the guards must have been viewing at that moment.
Little did she know, that was the easiest part of this she would have to endure in terms of embarrassment. 
“Did I ever tell you how pretty your hands are? So gorgeous.” he kissed her palm. “Especially when they are around my cock. That’s my favorite, seeing your pretty little fingers work for me.” 
Her eyes widened as he said these words. A red tint came to her cheeks, but that only made Aegon want more of a reaction from her. 
Aegon dropped her hand, now placing his hands on both of her thighs over her dress. “I want no complaints from your lips. Do you understand?”
She was hesitant to answer him again. Furrowing his brows, he was angered by her rebellion. He grabbed down on her thighs harder now, his thumb trailing dangerously close to her core. His eyes met hers once again, waiting for a response. 
“Mhm,” she whined out, feeling the pressure building between her thighs. 
“Good girl.”
With a sudden movement, his hands left her thighs over her dress. Aegon lifted her legs to his shoulders, each leg resting on each shoulder. He moved his hands to cradle her lower back, pulling her closer to his face. She squirmed, as she did not expect this move from him at all. She didn’t have time to complain. His hands delved under her skirt, pulling at her undergarments and swiping a finger over her bundle of nerves. 
He laughed at her reaction, watching her squirm under his touch was one of his favorite sights. 
“Hold your pretty present for me.” he ordered, speaking sweetly with a hint of cruelty as he bunched up her skirt, holding the expensive fabric in his hands for her to grasp. She listened. 
“B-but Aegon, the guards.” she protested. He looked at her and rolled his eyes, smirking and staring at her with a look that she was the most idiotic woman in the world. “Fuck the guards, my love. Perhaps they’ll enjoy the pretty little noises you’ll make for me. Stroke their own cocks to the memory of your wails after their shift.”
She gasped at his words in shock. Her gasp was followed up with another one, but a pleasurable one. Without warning, Aegon delved his face between her thighs and began lapping eagerly at her cunt. There was no warning, just an over sense of his tongue on her. 
Y/N let out a guttural groan, her hands moving straight to his hair. She pulled ever so lightly, her head resting against the back of the throne as he worked his magic. “But if anyone… if anyone were to see.” she says between breaths, now looking down at his blonde head between her thighs. He stopped momentarily and looked up at her. He licked his lips, as her juices dripped off his chin. 
“Then they will see that I am very obviously busy.”
He returned to his place between her thighs, but this time brought a finger to her and inserted it. 
“Aegon!” she cried out as he did, pushing herself forward and more eagerly into his grasp. She could feel his chuckle on her cunt as he stopped momentarily. He kissed her and continued his multitasking of eating her out and fingering her. His nose sat perfectly within her. It was almost as if his nose was made just for her cunt. 
He works for a while more, he could feel her pulsating around his fingers. This only drove him more mad, as if he was drunk off of her. He inserted another finger, revealing another groan from her that went straight to his cock. He pumped in her faster by the second, he was sure she was going to cum any minute now. “Are you close?”
She nodded eagerly. A smile came to his lips. “Do you want to cum?” he asked, his wrist beginning to hurt with the angle he was pumping his fingers in and out of her. Oh, how he would suffer for her pleasure. 
“Use your words,” he says sharply. “Tell me how you want it.”
“I-I…” she could barely form a sentence. “Tell me,” he ordered her. “Beg for it,”
Her hips rolled against his touch as she cried out for him. “P-please, let me cum.” she whispered out, with all her might she had left. 
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, dear.” Aegon teased her cruelly, her words weren’t enough to satisfy his needs. “Say my name like I’m yours, like you fucking mean it.”
“Aegon,” she breathed out, trying her best to keep her eyes open. “Louder,” he demanded. “Say it like you mean it.”
“Aegon!” she blurted out, loud enough for anyone down the hallway to hear her voice. “Just like that, yes.” he praised her, brushing his free hand up her thigh. His touch sent chills down her spine, a foreshadowing of what was about to come. He could feel her heat rising, her climax was definitely near. He kissed her thigh, looking up at her pretty face as she moaned, her head bowed back and her left hand in his locks. This is exactly how he wanted her; this was what she deserved. A fitting punishment for a brat such as herself. 
“Yes, you can do it. Come on my fingers, pretty girl.” he says, moving his fingers to her clit and circling it just as he knew she enjoyed it. She tried to speak his name, but she couldn’t process the syllables to do so. She had used the last remnants of her voice moaning his name only seconds ago as he had requested. Only a strange mutter mixed with a moan came from her. “Oh yes, just like that.” he says, adding now a third finger temporarily, stretching her out. Aegon was pleased by her lack of words. She nods as he does so, with her hands moving from being entwined in his hair to absolutely anything around her. 
Usually, when they were in bed, she would grasp the sheets when she became close. It was something to ground her, making her feel stable in her weak state as she would cum. Now as she was surrounded by swords, there wasn’t much to hold on to. But that thought didn’t occur to her, as she was too obsessed with the orgasm that currently racked through her body. She let out a cry as she stupidly grasped a sword, slicing her finger as she came.
Aegon didn’t notice this at first, all he could do was watch her cunt clamp down on his fingers. He smirked evilly as he kissed her slit once more, then grabbed the bunched-up dress from her waist and made her modest once again. 
She was still breathing heavily from her orgasm, but her eyes were on her now sliced finger. “Fuck,” she whispered. That caught Aegon’s attention. He now stood in front of her, ready to scold her for her language, but then saw her wound. 
“You stupid woman.” he scoffed, grabbing her wrist. He inspected the cut. “How could you be so dumb? Grabbing the Iron Throne?” he asked, looking at her with a certain look of disdain. 
“I suppose you want me to fix it.” he groaned, looking into her eyes. A sense of embarrassment has filled her, more than already had. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. 
“Good. You’ve learned your lesson.” he smiles with dead eyes, his power trip coming to its height as he praised her. 
He takes her finger into his mouth, licking off the blood. Y/N groaned as he did, as his tongue swiped the cut roughly. Aegon enjoyed watching her in pain, swirling his tongue on her cut as he did with her clit just minutes ago. 
After the wound was empty of blood, he swallowed hard. So obviously, letting her know that her blood now rested in his throat. As a way to let her know that he truly does own her. 
“Do you want a bandage? I would hate for that to get infected.” 
He lets go of her hand.
She inspected her now-cleaned cut, but more blood seemed to seep through. Y/N knew all too well that it wouldn’t be that easy with Aegon.
“Do you want one?” he asks her. She nods. He comes close to her once again, grabbing her chin like he did before, and looked into her eyes, their faces only inches apart. “Use your words, love.” he says quietly but dominantly. 
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” he asks, raising her chin slightly.
“Yes, please.”
“Good girl.” he purred once again. Aegon snapped his fingers at the nearest guard, and within seconds a bandage is delivered to him, along with some sanitizing liquid in a vile. The guard returns to his place. Y/N struggled to look the man in the eyes, knowing all six guards heard her moments before. 
He carefully took her hand, treating it with such grace. “Such a shame to see your pretty fingers hurt. Be more careful next time, dear. I don’t like my things to be broken.”
Aegon took some of the sanitizer and placed it on her cut. It made her pull back her hand slightly as she seethed at the pain. “You could have warned me,” she hissed. Aegon rolled his eyes. “Watch your tongue, girl. I am doing you a favor.”
He closed the vile and placed it in his pocket, and began to unwrap the bandage. “Is it too tight?” he asked her, looking up at her with kind eyes. She knew that his care wouldn’t last long, so she enjoyed it while she could. “No, my King. Just right.” she replied. He smiled as she used his proper title, the feeling of love he had for her returning momentarily. Aegon tied off her bandage, lifting her wrist and kissing her finger. 
"There we go," he says proudly, looking from her hand and back to her. Aegon was in awe of what was his. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her post-orgasm state. He huffed proudly.
“All better.”
-
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko
615 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Show Me Off- Lady Lesso x EverTeacherReader!
Synopsis: You just wanted to dance.
Warnings: Angst but I make it better, whore is used but not in a good way, nothing really too bad. But lmk if I missed any!
Word Count: 3k
A/n: I LOVE THE NICKNAME I PUT IN THIS SO PLEASE ENJOY. okay I really wanted to get something else out for you guys, and I wanted it to be smut but I don’t have the motivation for smut unfortunately 😩. But I hope you guys enjoy this one! Reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed!
© This is my work, you have no right to repost my work for any reason without my explicit permission, all rights reserved.
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
You were making your finishing touches on your gown in the mirror, making sure every detail was perfect and every thread was in the right place.
You were so focused on the task at hand that you didn't even notice Lesso watching you, admiring you in the mirror. She adored you, and you looked stunning in the dress you chose.
She came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist, "You look ravishing tonight, darling." She planted a kiss on your neck.
You turned in her arms, it was your turn to admire her. The fitted suit she chose was one of your favorites, the all-black three-piece suit looked so good on her.
"Thank you, love. You look as exquisite as ever." You gave her a quick peck on the lips, to not ruin your lipstick or transfer it to her.
"Are you nearly ready? We don't want to be late, we are chaperones after all." Though she was a little bit excited for this ball, well, excited to go with you, she still hated the objective of being a chaperone.
"I'm ready, there's nothing else I need but you." She smiled and placed another kiss on your lips.
You wrapped your hands around her arm as you left her quarters towards the event, you could barely contain your excitement. You thought that this was finally your time to show her off, to finally say that you're with the one and only Dean of Evil.
But you had thought wrong.
You could hear the start of the orchestra as you turned down the ballroom corridor when Lesso shrugged you off her. Confusion instantly overtook you.
"What-" Your confusion increased tenfold when her steps increased in pace. "What are you doing?"
Lesso turned back with a look that said it was clearly obvious, "You know we can't be seen that closely." The way she said that so nonchalantly brought you many feelings, and none of them were good.
"But I thought," Tears begin filling your eyes, but you can't cry. You can't ruin your makeup, so you shook your head to shun them away. "I thought tonight was when we could finally come clean and be seen together in public." It came out much more questioning than you intended.
"Please, you know it's strictly forbidden for us to be close in public." She turned back around and continued on.
There's no way that this was that easy for her. That she can say that and not feel even the slightest tinge of guilt.
"Fine." Strictly forbidden, what foolishness. She acts as if she's not the one to create these rules.
Your heart felt heavy and your bottom lip quivered slightly, knowing you'd have to enter the ballroom alone. You didn't even want to be there anymore, not after that. You contemplated turning back to your quarters for a solid minute.
But you had already put so much time into your look, plus you were expected to be a chaperone.
So, after watching your love walk away from you, she didn't even wait for you to be a little bit behind her. You continued on with your soul weighing on you like stone.
You just couldn't understand it, the way her demeanor entirely flipped threw you off. You wrapped your arms around you to ease the coldness you suddenly felt.
As you entered the elegantly decorated ballroom, themed perfectly for the celebration of the summer solstice, the doing of Dovey no doubt, you couldn't help but look around.
Each of the decorations were catching your eye, especially the colorful flowers she has expertly spaced around the room. But something dark caught your eye, like it did every time.
Lesso was standing off in the corner, her soft features nowhere to be found, with a drink in hand. You desperately wanted to walk over to her and have her wrap her arms around you or pull you on the dance floor, but you couldn't.
Lesso had finally spotted you, sending you a smile that only you would ever be able to detect. Lesso became confused herself when you didn't even attempt to return the smile, your smile was one of her favorite things.
You looked away from her and continued on, your arms falling to your side as you made your way to Professor Dovey and Professor Anemone. If she was going to barricade herself in her Never space, then you're left to be in your Ever space.
Right away, Anemone could tell something was off with you. She was your greatest friend, so of course she could clearly tell that there was something wrong when your excitement was nowhere to be found, especially when you've been excited for this ball for weeks.
"Dear, what's the matter?" She placed her hand on your elbow as she guided you away from Dovey.
"Nothing," You attempted to pass off the lie while trying so hard to not glance in Lesso's direction. "Everything is alright."
"Okay, well, I know that's not true so let's try that one more time." Yeah, she knew you well.
Everything about you deflated, your smile and posture but especially your tone, "I don't really wanna talk about it, okay? So, can we drop it and focus on the kids?" Whatever was bothering you was bad enough that you didn't open up about it, so she knew it wasn't good.
"Would you like to dance? I know I'm not your 'secret girlfriend' but maybe it'll cheer you up?" It was a lie, she knew who your secret girlfriend was.
She wasn't thick, after all, and once that sentence escaped her she realized what was going on. Anemone saw how you hadn't even looked at Lesso yet so she knew that must be at least a part of the reason.
A small smile came to your face, "Sure, why not." You said as you grabbed onto her now extended hand.
The timing couldn't have been more right as a new song had just begun when you both made it to the center of the ballroom.
All the students cleared some space as they saw you two coming. You ignored the feeling of all the eyes on you as you began dancing with her, and you could tell that there wasn't one person not watching.
You focused on each of the movements and the sound of each instrument as you both gracefully moved across the room. Both of your semi-puffy dresses move elegantly with you. The breeze increased as you both twirled and spun around the ballroom floor.
As the song came to an end, another one was soon to play, and you slowed to a small shuffle. You rested your face on her shoulder, facing away from her but in a way to speak so only she could hear, "Thank you for this, Emma."
Just as you finished your sentence and before Emma even had a chance to respond, an exasperated-looking Lesso came storming towards you both.
She didn't slow but she grabbed your arm and pulled you from Anemone in a swift move, causing you to move with her.
Lesso kept moving, walking you towards the terrace, "What are you doing?!" You tried pulling your arm from her, but you didn't try hard enough.
"I don't appreciate you being all over Emma, acting like some common whore."
You instantly stopped moving once you heard her words and crossed onto the outside terrace, a scoff escaped you, one of disbelief and disrespect, and you ripped your arm back, "I beg your pardon?!"
"There's no need for you to be all over that woman when you're simply dancing with her." She crossed her arms.
She really doesn't get it, does she?
"Emma is my friend! And we were only dancing! Where'd you get the audacity-" Your sadness began to shift to anger.
She cut you off, "Oh, please! You-"
You cut her off this time, not willing to feed her delusion, "If the image of me dancing with another is so unbearable, then you gain the courage to do so instead!"
"You know we can't do that!"
"No, we can! You just don't want to! Your reputation is far more important to you than I!"
Lesso couldn't believe a statement like that came from you, sure that kind of thing would've been expected by anyone else once they heard she was in a relationship, but not you, "That is not true."
"Really? Because, I have yet to see anything that suggests otherwise," Your tears returned. "You- you. You play into my desire of finally being able to be seen with you, only for you to tear it apart and quite literally throw me aside. Just so you can keep your spotless Never appearance." The tears finally escaped, falling effortlessly down your face and effectively ruining your makeup.
"That's, not what I meant to do," Lesso hasn't realized how much she had fucked up until this moment.
A humorless scoff came from you once more, "That's all you have to say for yourself? Not even an apology? Wow." You started turning back into the ballroom.
She stopped you with a hand on your arm, "No, darling, wait!"
You stopped, but not in the way she hoped, "No! You simply can't fix this with an 'I'm sorry', okay? Figure this out on your own." You pulled your arm back again and continued onto the ballroom.
You entered again but had no intentions of staying.
Everyone kind of paused when they saw you re-enter with tears streaming down your face, a stunned Lesso standing in her spot on the Terrace. Of course, they had all witnessed her pulling you away and watched on curiously, but they hadn't expected you to return in tears. Especially Anemone and Dovey, the two being the most stunned as their eyes followed you out of the ballroom and then redirected to Lesso.
Lesso was used to having all eyes on her, but not like this. As she walked back to the corner she was previously perched in, everyone eyed her down. It only lasted a second before she made it clear that she was still the Dean of Evil, and everyone realized that now may not be a good time to piss her off.
Dovey gave her a pointed look, one that clearly says there will be a discussion about what occurred, but Lesso couldn't bring herself to care. Not when she was too preoccupied with wondering how and what you were doing.
The answer? Not good and currently staring at the wall with dried tears on your face.
You knew you shouldn't be reacting in such a way, but you also couldn't help it. The way Leo just threw you off her and walked away without as much as looking at you, how she called you a whore for dancing with your friend. The worst part was this was entirely avoidable.
You didn't want to dance with Emma, you wanted to dance with her. You didn't want to be in the middle of the room with all eyes on you, you wanted to be in the privacy of her quarters while laying in her arms.
Eventually, after who knows how long, you got tired of sulking. You brought yourself to get changed into your pajamas and wash your face from your mess of what was once makeup. You just wanted this day to be over with.
Time crept on for the both of you, you thought sleep may help and attempted it, but failed. And Lesso tried slipping out the side of the ballroom but got caught by various people.
For every toss and turn you made in your bed, was one meter closer Lesso got to the door. She was getting close to hexing the entire ballroom before she just started shoving people out of her way with her cane to leave.
Lesso had no idea how it got so out of hand. Of course, she didn't realize just how much she was hurting you by keeping the both of you a secret, though it wasn't much of a secret. Not after tonight at least.
She continued on to your quarters, she knew you'd be nowhere else. The only annoying part about that is your quarters are on the opposite end of the school than hers is, so she had a whole journey to herself. One that allowed to realize just what she's done.
By this time, you had already shoved your face into the pillow from frustration. It was undoubtedly due to many things but you liked to blame it only on your difficulty sleeping.
Just as you sat up to get a glass of water, there was a knock at your door. You didn't have to open it to know who was standing on the other side, the pattern of the sound telling you exactly who it was.
A part of you was thrilled that she came back, back to you. But the other part wanted her to stay away.
"Go away." You spoke out, not making any attempts to move in any way.
"Starlight, it's me." You nearly burst into tears at the nickname.
She thought it fit you perfectly, not only because of your love for the stars and all things space, but because your Leo always said, 'Your eyes sparkle more than the stars, my little Starlight.'
"I know it is." Your heart kept screaming at you to at least see her.
"I came to apologize. I understand you're upset with me, and you don't have to forgive me, but can I at least look at you when I do?" For the first time tonight, you heard genuine emotion from her.
You couldn't hold back anymore, your heart won out. What an Ever thing to do.
You stayed silent as you walked to your door and opened it. The once put-together Dean was now standing in front of you, hair disheveled and emotions coating her face.
Lesso was taken aback by your appearance, not that it was bad, just not what she was expecting. She thought you'd still be all dressed up, not ready for bed with a tear-stained face. She messed up big time.
"Well?" Your voice snapped her back into the situation.
"Star, I'm sorry. I really am," She snuck past you and into your quarters, and if you had any energy, you would've attempted to stop her. "You were right about me wanting to maintain my reputation, but you were wrong that it's more important than you." You silently shut your door and turned to meet her in the middle of your room.
And for a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the looks being shared. You just looked at her, feeling many things.
She placed her hand on your cheek as your lip quivered, "My beautiful Starlight," Her thumb started brushing against your cheek. "I am sorry."
Your heart screamed for you to forgive her, but your mind told you to say what you want to say. And you decided on that.
"I guess you don't get it then?" She gave you a questioning look. "The way you just toss me aside made me feel utterly useless. And then, you call me a whore and you expect me to just pass over that? I get you're sorry, and you should be, but I'm not going to forgive you just because you say that."
Oh.
You can tell by the look on her face, she finally gets it.
"My darling girl, words can't even begin to explain how sorry I am. I fucked up, I know. I want to take it back but I can't. But what I can do is, from now on no more hiding. No more sneaking or lies. I'm done with that."
Your eyes filled with hope, "You promise?"
"I promise you, darling. From this moment on, no more hiding. Just us against the world, together." She pushed some of your hair back behind your ear.
A small smile came to your face, "Thank you, and I'm sorry I reacted so strongly. I was just really looking forward to tonight."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Star. You were simply reacting. What were you looking forward to, darling? Chaperoning?" Lesso knew you liked your job, but she didn't think you liked it that much.
"No, I, I just wanted to dance with you." The way that sentence escaped your lips, so soft and broken, made Lesso's heart lurch, she couldn't believe it.
She made her beautiful and fragile flower wilt, and she knew it was all because of her.
She reached her hand out towards you, and you looked at it curiously before looking back at her, "What-"
She didn't let you finish, "Let's dance, Starlight."
"But I'm not-"
"Right here, right now, just us. No need for fancy clothes or anyone watching."
The sweet, soft, and warm smile that Lesso has come to know and love, finally came to your face. The very one she's been wanting to see all night.
You finally accepted her hand, and when you did she stepped closer to you and placed her other hand on your waist.
You followed each step she made, soft grins spread across both of your faces as you easily moved around your quarters.
"There's no music," You pointed out.
"That is true. But who said you must have music to dance?" She rhetorically asked as she pulled your arm above your head and began to spin you.
The silence that filled the space was a comfortable one. Once you came back around again, you looked between her eyes. It was plain as day, the admiration she had for you. Whether you saw it or not was entirely different.
"Thank you for this, Leo." You moved to rest your head on her shoulder, your steps never ceasing, with your face nuzzled into her neck.
"Anything for my Starlight."
This. This is all you wanted.
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing @scream-queenlover @hxzxrdous (I think that’s all of you lovelies).
528 notes · View notes
ginkgo-phyta · 3 months
Text
The Aftermath - Tantalizing Pt.2 / Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
Words: ~3k
Tags/Warnings: AFAB fem reader in mind (one mention of breasts, dress, and longish hair), no warnings, really, maybe mention of rodents? this is a bit more on the fluffy side and my attempt at being funny and lighthearted bahaha, pt2 to a smut but there's nothing smutty here! other BAU members present (Emily, Hotch, Derek)
Summary: You and Spencer have been hiding your relationship from the team, but during a particularly steamy late-night rendezvous in Spencer's hotel room (specifically, on the desk), the two of you get interrupted by a knock at the door. For the sake of saving face, your relationship, and your dignity, the two of you must try to act like nothing indecent was ever going on. Even if that means coming up with a ridiculous story. Will it work?
Author's Note: Part two of Tantalizing, which is a small smut fic, but this can really be read as a standalone! If you haven't read it yet, though, I would love it if you did! :D
Silence flooded the room for a good thirty seconds while you and Spencer just stared at each other, wide eyed and horrified. 
Boom, boom, boom.
Another bout of heavy, rhythmic knocks caused you to jump in your skin again. 
“Spencer,” Rossi’s muffled voice oozed through the wood, concerned and hesitant, “are you okay??”
“Shit, shit, shit.” Spencer was losing his mind. He took his hand off your mouth, giving you a pointed look that screamed shut up as he moved away from you to begin fixing his clothes. “This cannot be happening…” he mumbled to himself, frantically trying to smooth down his hair, “What the hell do we do?” he directed towards you, his usual sweet timbre dripping with fear-laced desperation. He turned his attention back to his clothing while you scooped your bra back over your breasts.
You had slowly slid off the desk, wincing as it creaked ever so slightly, and started buttoning up your dress when an idea popped up into your head. “Follow my lead!” you whisper-shouted to the panicked doctor. Spencer whipped his head up to look at you in exaggerated incredulity, hands leaving their task of tucking his shirt into his pants to hysterically wave around at you.
“No, no! Don’t say anything-” he quietly pleaded, trying to quell whatever stupid idea you had. He bounded towards you hand extending to slap over your mouth again, but you grabbed his wrist just in time. 
“There’s a rat!!” you shouted towards the door.
Spencer threw his hands up and turned away from you, hitting them lightly down onto his thighs as he grumbled, “Unbelievable…” There’s a fucking rat?? 
A moment of silence settled the air while Spencer stood still, anticipating what Rossi could possibly respond with. He watched you straighten your dress skirt and deftly finger comb your hair into a low ponytail. 
Rossi finally called out your name, even more confused, “Is that you? I-” you could envision the older man glancing around the hallway with a stumped expression as he took in a breath, “What..What the hell is happening in there?”
You unintelligibly mouthed something to Spencer, urging him to back you up as you tiptoed around to the other side of the bed. 
“A-a rat, Rossi! There’s a rat in the room!” 
You mentally face-palmed as you lugged open the lone window in the room. Spencer didn’t sound nearly as convincing as you did. Clearly, you would have to be the one to sell this. You mustered up your most frightened voice, “It’s so big, I don’t know where it went!” Spencer rolled his eyes at the sight of you fruitlessly trying to wave the smell of sex out of the room with your hands. 
“This is so crazy,” he quietly yelled at you, “you should’ve kept your mouth shut!” 
“Oh yeah?” you challenged him with a raised brow, “And how would you have explained all the noises we were making, Dr. Reid?” That shut him up. Spencer wished the walls would just consume him.
“A rat???” David sounded even more confused. He called both of your names this time, “Just open the door, I’ll deal with it.” you couldn't tell if he was buying the excuse. 
“No!” Spencer yelled out a little too quickly. You made up for it,
“If we get down it’ll attack us again!” you started to climb up onto the bed, attempting to pull Spencer up by the arm to join you.
‘Again’, huh? Good addition. Spencer thought. Frustration slowly melted off his shoulders, amusement creeping into its place with every tug on his arm. This was absolutely ridiculous. Like, comically unreal. He felt like he just got transported into an early noughties romcom. With a shake of his head and light chuckle, Spencer clambered up onto the bed. He could hear Rossi mumbling from the other side of the door, whether to himself or to someone else was yet to be confirmed. 
“Why are we up here?” Spencer whispered through a smile, holding onto your arms to steady himself. It felt wrong to be on the bed with his shoes still on. 
“What, you’ve never heard of method acting?” it was clear you were trying to hold back laughter, voice breaking at the end of your question. You held Spencer’s shoulders and closed your eyes, lightly clearing your throat as you tried to center yourself. Spencer watched on in confusion. Suddenly, your eyelids flew open, serious gaze boring into Spencer’s amused one. “Spencer. We have to do this, you hear me? We have to convince Rossi there was no hanky-panky-ing happening in this room, alright?” 
Spencer started to laugh before you roughly sandwiched his face between your palms. “Hey!” you hissed, “I mean it!” 
Wow, you were being way more serious than he honestly expected. Well, as serious as someone who just uttered "hanky-panky-ing" can be. As your hands slid down to grip the lapels of his blazer, Spencer gave you a firm nod before mimicking your actions. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reached into the corners of his psyche to find his innermost theater kid. He was going to do this wholeheartedly. Doctor Spencer Reid was going to act like his career depended on it…Hopefully.
The sound of shuffling and added voices outside the door caused your nerves to multiply. Your palms became slick with cold sweat, heart beat increased, breathing quickened ever-so-slightly. Your audience was growing. It was time to perform. 
“Y'all got a rat problem?” a new voice rang out, and you knew right away is was Derek fucking Morgan. You could tell he was trying not to laugh. 
Great, you thought, this just got harder. 
Before either of you could even respond, another voice spoke, “And you're stuck on- what- the bed?” Emily. And she was not holding back her delight. 
“Oh God,” Spencer muttered under his breath, “this better work.” 
“Just commit and it will!” you quickly spat out through gritted teeth before turning back to the task at hand. “Yes, a rat!! Guys, please help- OH MY GOD THERE IT IS!” you made sure to screech like a schoolgirl at the end. 
Spencer almost blurted out laughing at the sight of you jumping around the bed and clinging onto him with eyes screwed shut as if you actually saw the imagined rodent. You were even pointing into the abyss. The thumps of your solid fist hitting his back reminded him to pitch in and he let out a few yelps and yells as well, trying hard to quell his smile. Clearly his inner theater kid was not that experienced- and not nearly as talented as you. 
Immediately the sound of Derek and Emily’s boisterous cackles seeped through the cracks around the door. Half a pitch higher, and you were convinced the tune could shake the wood right off the hinges. 
It was obvious another idea popped into your head and before Spencer could ask what you were doing, you laid over the edge of the mattress, bending to reach under the bed for something. The entire time, you kept up your screams and random yells, throwing in an expletive here and there and kicking against the bed for good measure. Spencer dubiously stared at you, but the expression on your face ushered him to copy you and keep up the chaos as you pulled an ironing board out from the depths of the hidden space. 
What the hell? How did you even know that was down there? Spencer tried to help you lug the board up onto the bed with you, but he had to bob and weave out of the way to keep from getting smacked upside the head with it. 
“Guys, just-” Rossi tried to speak but a shrill command cut him off.
“Spencer!” you suddenly shouted. “Get it, it’s behind the desk again! Right there!” with that you shoved the ironing board into Spencer’s arms. The sudden push had the doctor stumbling back into the headboard but before he could even process what was happening, you guided him to hit the board against the desk you were fooling around on just minutes ago. 
Ohhh, I guess that makes sense. The thought flashed through Spencer’s mind as he realized you were trying to mimic the thumping sounds your earlier debauchery had created. 
You could faintly hear Prentiss and Morgan slapping each other's arms through their heightened hooting and Rossi trying to get them to shut up enough to get a word out. 
“Ok-Okay, kids! Hotch is getting someone to open the door!” He spoke to you. The older man was clearly choking back a laugh of his own, “Don’t worry, just calm down- Get it together!” He had obviously directed his attention to the agents beside him at the end. The sounds of amusement abruptly ended, but you could perfectly envision Emily and Morgan biting their fists to stop their cackles, shoulders shaking merrily in mirth. 
“Please, hurry!” Spencer yelled out, relenting his motions and settling one end of the board down on the floor. He leaned against it, breathing deeply for a second as his own shoulders shook in a contained chuckle. His arms burned from flailing around such a heavy object, beads of sweat began to line the back of his neck, but he had to admit he was actually having fun. He looked down at you sitting at his feet, also silently laughing. You had your legs tucked under you and your body hunched forward just a bit, face held in your hands. If he hadn’t known better, Spencer would have almost thought you were crying. 
You drag your hands down your face and look up at your lover, “I hope to God this works.”
Spencer’s smile grows and just as he’s about to reach down and smooth over your hair the sound of the electronic key fob being activated sucks in your attention. Immediately, you cling to Spencer’s leg and he grabs a hold of the ironing board again, positioning it to look like he’s ready to pounce. It took every ounce of both of your will powers to put on believably terrified faces. 
Derek and Emily basically pushed Hotch and Rossi into the room and the sight in front of them has them struggling to stifle their laughs again. One of Emily's hands immediately flies to latch onto Derek’s shoulder while the other covers her mouth, Morgan’s jaw slacks open. Both of them wished they had brought their phones with them to eternalize this moment with a picture. If painted, the scene before them could easily be mistaken for a Renaissance piece. Your face bore an expression of trepidation neither of the agents had ever seen before. Your hands tightly fisted the leg of Spencer’s pants and you seemed to cower behind him. Spencer was the highlight of the evening; stance wide and strong on the wobbly mattress, messy hair stretching in every direction, clothes slightly awry, and grasp on the absurd ironing board firm as he wielded it like Excalibur.   
“Oh my God,” Emily whispers with a little giggle. Her eyes meet Derek’s as he scoffs in disbelief and they share the same thought, “What in the world are they doing?”
Rossi and Hotch remain stoic and concerned as they look all around the room; up, down, side to side. Though, a little smile plays at the corners of the former’s lips. 
“Where’s the rat?” Hotch asks plainly while Rossi turns his head back to share a glace with the other team members.
Without missing a beat, as if your brain cells telepathically communicated with one another, both you and Spencer point towards the open window behind you, “It ran out!” 
“What? It’s gone?” Rossi spoke up, walking around the bed to peer out the screenless window. 
“It just left?” Hotch added hesitantly with an arch of his brow, hands sliding into his pockets. 
“Well, more like Spencer hit it out,” You quickly piped up, scrambling off the bed and helping Spencer do the same, “with this.” you motioned to the ironing board before clumsily sliding it back under the bed, trying your best to sound confident. “Right before you guys opened the door.” The two of you looked at each other and nodded in agreement.
“I can’t believe this,” Emily’s seal broke and she began to laugh, causing Derek to do the same, “you guys were making all that ruckus over a stupid rat?”
“Me either,” Derek swiped a hand over his head, smiling widely, “I mean, you seriously hit a rat out the window? Looks like we gotta get you on the bureau softball team, pretty boy.”
You looked at Emily wide-eyed in disbelief, shouting, “It was a big rat!” 
At the same time Spencer grumbled out, “It was just luck,” while he slumped down onto the bed. You remained standing.
“Ahem,” someone clears their throat, conjuring everyone’s attention to them. It was the front desk employee standing in the doorway, “Um, is everything okay?” they stepped further into the room, squeezing between Morgan and Prentiss. You could see a security guard lingering nearby in the hallway. 
Shit. Hotel staff and security are getting involved now…
“You mean, besides the fact this place has a rat infestation?” Emily mumbled under her breath, garnering a low-five from Derek. 
“Yes, everything’s fine now!” Spencer tries to diffuse the situation, noticing everything was becoming a bigger ordeal than necessary. “And there’s no infestation, I’m pretty sure it came from outside.” 
“Good save, Dr. Reid.” you thought to yourself with a bit of your lower lip. You made sure to maintain a naive facade, though. 
The employee wrung their hands together, “Right. Well, just as we instructed during check-in, please refrain from opening your window for the rest of your stay.” 
“Ooh, naughty boy.” Prentiss jokingly chided at Spencer.
Oopsies…You forgot they told you not to open the window in this room specifically. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, “it was me. I totally forgot. We’ll make sure to keep it closed now!” The receptionist simply offered you a tight-lipped nod in response before turning to leave, taking the security guard with them.  
“Well, looks like we probably won’t be welcomed back here.” Hotch quipped causing everyone to chuckle. He looked over the room once more before motioning to all the files scattered around the floor, “Clean this up and go to bed- in your own rooms.” he added quickly. “We’ve got an early morning, remember?” 
You and Spencer nodded quickly and watched as your boss walked off. David ensure the window was tightly shut before coming back around to take Aaron’s previous spot, “What were you guys even doing this late?”
With a scratch to the back of his neck, Spencer jerked his chin towards the few papers left on the desk, “We were working on the coded messages the unsub left.” It wasn't entirely a lie.
“It got stuffy so I opened the window,” you added, rubbing your suddenly tired eyes, “...then that monster came flying in.” 
You rolled your eyes at Emily and Derek simultaneously snorting.
Rossi just nodded for a second, processing the information before speaking, “It didn’t bite you guys, did it?” 
“No, but I swear it crawled over my arms.” You feigned a shiver, crossing your arms and rubbing your hands against them as you plopped onto the edge of the bed next to Spencer.
Rossi winced at the image, throwing his hands up with a, “Alright, buona notte!” while leaving the room. 
That left the four of you- Emily and Derek sauntered up to the two of you with the most shit-eating-est grins you had ever seen in your life.
Prentiss spoke first, hands glued mockingly to her hips, “You guys woke up the whole floor, you know that? I mean, if it was just a little rat, you couldn't have just left the room?” you narrow your eyes at the bout of laughter that rolled out of her frame. “Plus,” she kissed her teeth, “now the staff are pissed off. They’re probably gonna kick us out.”
“I’m glad you find my genuine terror sooo amusing, Emily.” You glared up at her, “Like I already said; it was huge and it literally touched me! If you guys aren’t gonna help clean up,” you gave Derek a pointed look, “then please leave.” You childishly straightened your back and tilted your chin up to appear more formidable. 
Emily chuckled and shook her head, “Nuh-uh. Your mess, your cleanup!” and with that she followed her supervisors and took her leave. 
Morgan remained standing in front of both of you, his deep brown eyes glinting in the soft white light emanating from the hotel sconces. A beat passed as he looked between you and Spencer with a smirk.
“Rat, huh?” he reached down and ruffled Spencer’s hair before giving you a quick wink and turning to leave, closing the room door behind him. 
And then there were two.
With deep sighs, both you and Spencer let your bodies go limp, dramatically dropping back into the mattress with little bounces, laying shoulder to shoulder. You stare up at the popcorn ceiling for a minute in silence before you feel Spencer gently grab a hold of your hand.
“D’ya think they bought it?” 
You turn your head to meet his gaze, “...Not at all.” 
Instantaneously, you both break out into melodious and boisterous laughter. The ludicrousness of the entire situation settled in and although you were exhausted you couldn't stop laughing until your sides split and oxygen became hard to acquire. Although the night was mortifying, there is always a silver lining. It was the most incredibly amusing, lively, and joyful time you’ve had in quite a while. And at least JJ and Penelope weren’t witnesses to it.
As he calmed down Spencer adjusted to lean up on his elbow, “Well, in that case…” he pushed a stray hair out of your face, peering down at you with a warm smile and an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes.
He didn’t even try to finish his sentence before he pounced on you, bringing you into his arms and nuzzling quick kisses into the side of your neck. You let out a playful shriek and tried to roll him off of you, giggles bubbling back up inside your belly. 
Eh, cleanup can wait.
165 notes · View notes