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#and his last thought is asking him to wait
suiana · 1 day
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(yandere! ex x gn! reader) (thought of this in the shower and thought it would be funny)
it had been five long dreadful days since you last talked to him.
five.
full.
days.
your ex boyfriend thought that it was finally time to break the silence and embrace your presence again. unfortunately, you had blocked him on all platforms and even got a restraining order on him. like, you've blocked him before but not a restraining order!
you even got all dramatic and said you wanted to break up!
...again.
he honestly thought it was a little cute. like aw... you wanted a break again! okay, because he loves you so much he'll give you another one! like you obviously meant break up as in separate for a bit then go back! like as always!
so... why haven't you contacted him at all?
he's itching and clawing at his walls just waiting for you to text him. but no, nothing. zero. absolute silence.
all the blocking and restraining orders weren't just to get his attention?
...
but he doesn't care haha! why should he care? you're just being a little dramatic again. this is how it's always been. he knows you just feel neglected, so of course you're just doing this for attention!
oh! he knows what to do!
that's right! he should show up with gifts and coddle you in kisses! like always!
that's why, he's patiently waiting for you to return back home... with tons of jewellery and cash laid on the ground. how did he get in, you ask? well obviously he has a spare key to your home! yeah yeah, he knows you haven't actually given him a new key and that you changed your lock two days ago but it was so painfully easy to just copy your key!
he couldn't just not make a copy, could he? you know he has to have access to you at all times! he gets antsy when he doesn't!
ah, your door is opening!
he grins happily, giggling excitedly as he sits by your couch, looking at the door in excitement.
"darling! i missed you!"
he moans, cheeks flushed as he stares at your stunned figure. however, his happiness gets replaced by worry as you slip on the money he laid down your hallway. oops... maybe he shouldn't have flooded your house in cash?
"darling! oh no... sre you alright?"
he pouts, immediately rushing to your side as he brushes the money away from your body. ah look at you! your face is all terrified... you must've been so so scared without him, weren't you?
"i promise I won't leave you again... just look at you!"
he mumbles, shaking his head disapprovingly as he picks you up and expertly maneuvers his way through your cash flooded apartment.
"what would you do without me?"
he sighs, cradling you to his chest as he sits on your couch and begins wiping away his faux tears with a wad of cash. that's right! what would you do without him? you were just so fragile and helpless! you'd suffer without his protection! he swears never to leave you alone again!
meanwhile, you were just silently smashing your head against the wall. god, your escape attempt failed again! maybe you should just escape to a foreign country next time. hm, maybe you should change your name to josh and alter your appearance too.
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luveline · 3 days
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Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻
quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k
Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 
You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 
“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 
“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 
“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 
Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 
“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 
“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 
“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 
Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 
Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 
The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 
“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.
“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 
“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 
“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 
“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 
“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 
“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 
“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 
“She was disgusted.” 
“She said we were being weird teenagers.”
“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 
“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 
“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.
Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 
He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 
“Are you okay?” she asks. 
“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 
Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 
“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 
“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 
“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 
“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 
Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 
“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 
“I missed my cousin, I think.” 
Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 
“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 
He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 
“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 
“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 
“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 
“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 
“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 
“Why now?” 
“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.
You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 
“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 
You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 
Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 
“Freezing!” 
Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 
“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 
“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 
“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 
“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 
You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 
“Sorry,” he says. 
“What for?” 
For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 
“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 
“How much do you have left?” he asks. 
“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 
“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 
“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 
Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 
You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 
“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 
“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 
“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 
“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 
“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.
“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 
“What?” 
“It’s a good thing.” 
“How dare you.” 
“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 
“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 
“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”
He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 
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roosterforme · 2 days
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Aim for the Sky Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Somehow the timing was just right, and Bradley's arrival meant he could join you for your appointment. He'd find out if he was having a son or daughter in person, with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget he loved so much.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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"Bradley," you gasped, head tipped back against the pillar that was pressing into your shoulder. "Your duffle is here. I can see it." Actually, it was just going around and around on the conveyor belt while Bradley sucked gently on your neck and slowly bunched the fabric of your dress in his hand over your bump. And just like that, once again, your focus drifted away from the bag as soon as he spoke.
"I'll get it in a minute," he murmured next to your ear. "I'm a little busy."
You were getting side eye from a woman, and a random man was outright gawking at you, but you didn't really care. The airport was busy, but it wasn't enough to make you pull your fingers from Bradley's soft hair or tell him to stop kissing his way back to your lips. His bristly mustache made you sigh when he reached his destination once again, and you let him taste your tongue before you pulled away slightly.
"Roo. We're kind of on a tight schedule." When he just grunted in response and headed for your lips again, you laughed. "Daddy! Let's go see the Nugget."
He seemed to snap out of it a little bit, the desire in his eyes giving way to excitement. "Right. Let's go. I can taste you everywhere at home later."
When he took you by the hand, you had to dig your heels in. "We need your bag!" you said with a smile. Then he led you in the opposite direction and snatched his massive duffle up like it was nothing and tossed it over his shoulder. You had to hustle along next to him as he exited the airport through the sliding doors and headed for the parking garage. It was like he knew you parked near the spot where he totaled your beloved little Honda when he finally got you pregnant on his birthday. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you recalled the details.
He must have seen his blue Bronco in the last row, because he picked up his pace a little bit more. "I don't think we have time for reunion sex yet," he muttered, glancing at you and letting his gaze dip down your body. "But I'll take care of you later. You got along okay without me?"
You let out a little squeak as he tossed his bag in the back and headed for the passenger side door so he could unlock it for you. "Honestly? I haven't been as insatiable since the first trimester ended," you told him, leaning closer to inhale the scent of his deodorant. "At least... I wasn't until right now."
He pulled you close again and tilted your chin up so you were looking at him. "Listen, I'm a little keyed up, and I don't think I can be quick. Can you wait until later?"
"Oh, God," you whined, your skin tingling at the thought of how long he might last for you and how good he would feel. "This is just as exciting as when I felt the baby moving on Halloween."
His brown eyes went wide, and his lips parted in surprise. "You felt the Nugget?!" When you nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"
You just gaped at him. "Seriously? You had your mouth all over mine! How was I supposed to tell you anything?"
"Shit," he hissed and handed you the keys before his hands settled on your belly, drifting around, trying to feel something. "You drive," he said, slowly guiding you to the other side of the Bronco. "I need to work on feeling a kick." 
As he buckled you in behind the wheel, you didn't have the heart to tell him that the baby wasn't even moving around much right now, or that it would probably be weeks before he'd be able to feel anything externally. He was too adorable when he was this excited, and you watched him run around the hood and jump inside like an overgrown golden retriever who had been offered a treat. His eyes were wide as he got himself buckled before placing both hands on your belly.
"Okay. I'm ready to go," he informed you with a nod.
"You sure?" you asked, smirking as you put the key in the ignition. "A minute ago, you looked like you were ready to have parking garage sex again, and now you're all over me and the Nugget."
You shifted into gear, and he whispered, "I'm ready, Baby Girl. I'm so fucking ready to learn what we're having, and if I feel a little kick on the way, it'll be like a cherry on top of the best day."
You paid the parking fee and pulled out onto the main road as you realized you only had about twenty minutes to get to Dr. Morris's office on time. "Don't get your hopes up," you said while Bradley felt you all over. "You probably won't be able to feel anything. It's still early for that."
"Hey, not to be rude, Sweetheart, but I'm actually going to need you to stop talking."
"What?" you asked, so startled you laughed a little bit. "Did you just ask me to be quiet?"
He kissed your cheek while you drove and whispered, "It's just that I can't tell if it's the vibrations from your voice or the baby moving. Please? I love you." Now you were laughing even harder as his big hands moved all around on you. "No, no, that's- see you're actually moving more when you laugh though." He kissed your cheek again as you rolled your eyes and smothered your laughter. "That's better."
When you pulled into the parking lot of the medical complex, your husband's fingers were stroking your belly gently, and when you parked again and looked at him, you saw a few tears in his eyes. "You okay?" you asked softly. 
"Yeah. I'm good. Like really fucking good."
--------------------------
Bradley was forever wondering when his luck would run out. His life just seemed too good to be true. He was holding hands with his hot, pregnant wife in the waiting room, just buzzing with excitement. In a few short minutes, he was going to find out if he was having a son or a daughter. He wondered if this was how his dad felt in 1984. He wondered if Nick Bradshaw ever wanted to randomly get on his knees for his wife for no reason.
"They called us," you whispered, kissing his cheek before you stood up. Bradley jumped to his feet as well, so deep in thought, he hadn't heard anything. He'd never admit it to you, but this was probably more exciting than the day the two of you got married.
He pressed his sweaty palm to yours and walked past the reception desk at your side. Three short hallways later, and a nurse led you into a large, dimly lit room with huge computer monitors on one wall. "I'm so fucking excited, I might pass out," he said, voice deep and raspy. 
The nurse eyed him cautiously. "Perhaps you should have a seat while Dr. Morris performs the scan?"
He nodded, intercepting the cotton gown before you could take it from her. "That's a great idea. I'll do that."
Once she was gone, Bradley turned to you and started unfolding the gown while you stepped out of your boat shoes. "Are you really going to pass out?" you asked him as you started to pull your sinfully snug dress up your legs.
"Let me do that," he grunted, kneeling on the floor and pushing the fabric up and over your belly. He kissed your tattoo through your underwear, and then he kissed the spot next to your belly button where he always imagined the Nugget was hanging out. "I love you," he whispered before getting to his feet again and pulling the dress up and over your head. You weren't wearing a bra, and your breasts looked so fucking incredible, he wanted them in his mouth.
"You're staring at me," you said, reaching for the gown as you shifted back and forth in place like you were getting cold. "I know I look different. I gained like eight or nine pounds while you were gone once I stopped throwing up all the time."
Bradley let you take the gown from his hands. "Jesus Christ, maybe I really should sit down," he muttered, dragging a chair over next to the table where you'd be sitting in a moment. "And I was just staring at your tits, Baby Girl. You don't look different, you look fucking hot pregnant. God, this is more exciting than when you let me fuck you in the ass."
And that was the exact moment when Dr. Morris entered the room and cleared her throat. "Lieutenant Bradshaw," she said, reaching out to shake his hand as he hovered awkwardly over the chair before standing up again. "It's so nice to have you back with us." You were cradling your head in your hand in embarrassment as he shook hands with your obstetrician.
"Dr. Morris," he murmured. "I only missed the last appointments, because I was deployed. There's nothing else that could have kept me away, I swear."
She laughed and looked between the two of you and said, "Well, we do like a supportive and adventurous partner."
"Roo," you groaned softly as you started to climb up on the table. Bradley turned to help you, and you let him.
"She's a doctor, Sweetheart," he whispered. "She's heard it all."
"That's true," Dr. Morris said as she washed her hands, and you gave Bradley a bland look as you settled back on the table which was bent at an angle that would let you see the monitors. He was so excited, he just kissed your forehead a bunch of times while Dr. Morris asked, "Are we ready to get started?"
"Yes!" he practically shouted while you responded in a much calmer tone. He eased himself down into the chair and looked up at you as he reached for your hand.
"This is it," you told him with a nervous smile. "Any final guesses?"
He shook his head, his attention drawn to the monitors as they came to life. "I don't care one way or the other. I just want to know everything I can about the Nugget." 
Then he took your hand in both of his bigger ones and brought your fingers up to his lips as you said, "Me, too."
Bradley's heart skipped around as Dr. Morris spread the warm gel on your belly, and he had to press his lips together to keep quiet. He'd imagined himself holding a son, and he'd imagined himself holding a daughter. He had thought about names he liked for both. He considered what wild colors he might one day paint the bedroom walls, and he looked forward to it. He thought he'd be good at being a basketball dad or a dance dad or a cheer dad or a soccer dad. And that's why it didn't really matter what Dr. Morris said today. It didn't really matter what his kid was into or not into, because the Nugget was going to be an extension of the two of you. Somehow that equated to perfection in his mind.
"Let's count some little toes," Dr. Morris said, and then Bradley squeezed your hand as two tiny feet appeared on the screen.
"Holy shit," he whispered. There were ten perfect toes on his perfect baby, and he had to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand as you laughed softly in awe. The Nugget would be smart and confident just like you were. Bradley would get the attic taken care of, and he'd put together the jungle gym. He would do every single thing that needed to be done to make a perfect home for this child. He would take care of you every day right now until he was taking care of both of you.
"Now let's check on the fingers."
Ten tiny fingers, attached to the cutest baby he'd ever seen in his life. Bradley took a deep breath and let his forehead rest against your arm as he tried to get himself under control. "Oh my God," he whispered, knowing he'd be able to count those toes and fingers in person next year. He could tickle them and send piggies to the market. He could kiss them and watch them toddle across the living room floor after Tramp.
"Let's just get a look at the heartbeat and a few other things here." Dr. Morris was taking her time, which Bradley appreciated. He liked a thorough doctor, but the anticipation was killing him. 
The heartbeat on the screen had you mesmerized when he looked at your beautiful face, but then you turned to look at him. Once again, he had no idea how he ended up this lucky. "I love you, Roo."
His already blurry vision just got worse as he sucked in a deep breath. "I love you so much." 
This time you brought his fingers up to your lips and kissed him as Dr. Morris added a little more gel to your belly and smashed it down with the ultrasound paddle. "Are you sure you want to find out the sex?"
"Yes!" you said, smiling at Bradley like you fucking knew you were his whole world. Like you didn't mind sharing him with the Nugget from now on. "We want to know!"
Bradley watched your face as you watched the monitor. His fingers on your wrist told him your heart was racing just like his was, and you were licking your lips in anticipation. You were perfect. His life was perfect. His baby was going to follow suit, no doubt about that. A smile found its way to his lips, and his shoulders relaxed, knowing that the next words he heard were going to be perfect, too. How could they not be?
"Congratulations. It's a girl."
The feeling inside his body was something he never knew before. He felt as much love as he had when he listened to you read your wedding vows, but this was something more. He was going to have a perfect little girl. Tears filled his eyes as he realized he was going to get to love and take responsibility for raising a daughter.
"Roo!" you sobbed, reaching for him, and then he was on his feet and kissing you.
"A girl," he said even as he mashed his lips to yours. "A daughter."
He wasn't sure if he felt his own tears or yours on his cheeks as you pressed your forehead to his and asked, "Are you happy?"
It took him a few seconds to get control of his voice as he held your face in his hands. "I'm living the life of my dreams."
-------------------------
Bradley had tears in his eyes and ultrasound images clutched to his chest as you led him outside to the Bronco. His free hand was clasped tight with yours, and you'd never seen him look so happy in your life. "A little girl," he said, handing you his keys once again, and you already knew what he was going to do when he buckled you into the driver's seat. "We're having a girl," he whispered, brown eyes wide as he kissed your wedding rings.
You nodded and wiped your thumb along his cheek. "It just makes sense somehow."
"It does," he agreed, kissing your lips before leaning down to kiss your bump through your dress. "I love this Nugget," he whispered. "My daughter."
You whined his name as he said those words, and when he looked up at you, all you could say was, "You're going to be the best Daddy, Roo." You thought about it all the time. The way he'd carry the baby around and read bedtime stories. The way he'd always be patient and sweet. You weren't sure if you'd always imagined a little girl or not, but it made so much sense right now.
"Let's go home," he rasped, kissing his way up from your belly until he got to your tender breasts. Technically you were supposed to work this afternoon, at least that's what you'd told Bickel. As Bradley ran around to the passenger side, you dug your phone out and texted your boss, letting him know that the baby was fine, and you'd see him on Monday. 
"What's wrong?" Bradley asked as you tossed your phone aside and started the engine.
"Nothing. Everything is right. I'm taking the rest of the day off so we can spend it together," you replied softly as his hands found their way back to your belly. It had been too many weeks since you'd been touched, and it felt so good, you had to press your lips together to keep from moaning. "I want to spend it with you."
He grunted and kissed the side of your neck as you pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm not letting my girls out of my sight all weekend."
"Bradley," you whined, feeling so much desire for him. The two of you could start talking about nursery decor and girl names and when you wanted to break the news to everyone else. You could do all of those things this weekend now that he was home. But you were also just needy for him.
You made a little noise as you tried your best to go the speed limit, and you knew that your husband knew what you needed. "I'll take care of you, Sweetheart. Don't worry about that. I'll take care of everything." 
He was tracing hearts along your belly, and you turned to look at his slightly lovesick eyes when you stopped at an intersection. "I know you will." You delighted in the fact that you were having a little girl who would get to share all of his love with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget, and pretty soon she would be showered in it too.
When you pulled into the driveway and parked in the tight spot next to your red Bronco, Bradley eyed the pallets of jungle gym pieces. "I can't fucking wait to build that thing. I've been dreaming about it for so long." Then he was jumping out the door as you shifted into park, and he was around to your side in an instant. "Been dreaming about this day for ages," he whispered as you climbed down and into his arms. His hands found your lower back as he added, "Been thinking about you and the Nugget since I left."
You smiled up at him. "You know what might be fun, Daddy?"
"What?" he asked, keeping his eyes on yours as he started to lead you up to the porch.
"If you start building the Nugget's playset tomorrow, and you get all sweaty and let me watch," you said, your voice turning into a soft whimper at the end. 
Bradley jammed the house key into the lock, and shoved the door open. He hooked one arm around your waist and pulled you inside with him as Tramp started jumping around like a maniac. "Hey, buddy," Bradley told him with a smile. "I missed you, too. But I need some time with my girls first."
"It's okay," you said as you closed the door behind you. "He probably won't calm down until you play with him a little bit."
But Bradley was pushing you back against the door even as Tramp ran around in circles. "Wait right here," he commanded softly, and lust rippled through you at the sight of his pupils blown wide. "Don't move an inch." 
You felt like you were barely even breathing as you stood very still and watched Bradley lead Tramp past the piano and out the back sliding glass door. "I promise I'll play with you next. I just desperately need to fuck my wife." Then he made his way back to you, his lips set in a determined smirk, and his movements beyond sexy. "I promised I wouldn't leave you hanging."
You closed your eyes as his palm came to rest on the wooden door just next to your head. His warmth was so close, but he wasn't touching you yet as you whispered, "You always take care of me."
His fingers started to pull up the hem of your dress as he crooned, "Why don't you go ahead and tell me how much you missed me."
You tipped your head back until it met the door, and you kept your eyes squeezed closed as you whined, "Couldn't go another day without you." When his lips met your cleavage, your eyes flew open. His lips grazed your nipple through the thin fabric as he slowly knelt in front of you, and you told him, "Your daughter and I missed you terribly."
When he looked up at your face, he pulled your dress up and said, "I'm so in love with you." He ran his lips along your bare belly. "And you." Then he pressed the bunched up fabric against your ribs, and when he said, "Hold this for me, Baby Girl," you did exactly as you were told.
"Yes, Daddy."
"Fuck," he grunted, rough hands on your thighs as he kissed your belly button. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" His eyes met yours again. "You asked me if I was happy. I've been happy since I met you. Since you gave me a purpose. Since you let me love you." His hands found the scrap of your white lace underwear and started to pull it down your thighs. "God, I missed this," he murmured, pressing his lips to your pussy as soon as you were free of the lace which slipped all the way down until your panties hit your boat shoes.
"Bradley," you croaked, the second syllable sounding much longer than the first as he licked his way up your slit to the patch of hair that you kept neatly trimmed. He licked along this same path again, this time pressing deeper with his tongue. The third time, he separated you a little more, and then he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently. All the while he kept his big hands on the swell of your belly. "I really missed you."
He responded by kissing your dainty rooster tattoo and burying his face in your pussy. Bradley gently nudged your legs further apart so he could taste you everywhere, and each time you started to buck, he pushed your hips back. You were gripping your dress so tight in both hands, you were afraid you might rip the fabric, but he just kept going in a smooth up and down stripe until you could tell you were dripping wet.
"Yeah, you missed me," he grunted, kissing your tattoo one more time. "I can taste how much."
"Roo."
He got to his feet and cupped your pussy below the swell of your belly, circling your opening with the tip of one finger as he leaned in close. "Will you let me take you to bed and show you how much I missed you?"
Your voice shook as he pushed his finger inside you, just a promise of what was to come if you agreed. "Please!"
Barely ten seconds later, you were on your back in bed, your dress pushed all the way up, exposing your breasts and belly to him. Your soaked pussy was already clenching as the cool air hit your skin, and you watched Bradley wrench his shirt off and unzip his pants. But he didn't penetrate you yet. He pushed on the backs of your thighs so your knees got a little closer to your shoulders, and you whimpered his name.
His eyes were a little wild as he said, "Yeah, I'll take care of everything, Sweetheart." Bradley wrapped his hands around your thighs and leaned down to kiss at your furled nipples, his mustache leaving you squirming, searching for release. "Your fucking tits are huge. My God. And so warm." 
He nuzzled himself against your breasts which were in fact getting to the point where your bras were fitting a little too tight. He sucked and swiped his tongue along, and you let your fingers sink into his hair as he brought you close with his mouth wrapped around one nipple then the other. "Oh my God," you panted, just spurring him on. Because next, his mouth trailed back down to your belly where he whispered and worshipped you.
"I love my girls," he crooned, spreading your legs open wider as you tugged on his hair to keep yourself grounded. "I love you so much."
"Please," you begged softly, and he finally put that mouth back on your soaking wet core. You were about to come, grinding against his lips and his nose, his name falling from you like a depraved prayer. Eventually he paused before filling you with his cock instead. You cried out as he stretched you fully for the first time in so long, and almost immediately he was fucking you to completion. You came hard, your back arching off the bed as you grabbed at his shoulders, but you knew he wanted his share, too.
Bradley fucked you through your orgasm, lips pressed to your ear so you could hear every word he said and every deep rumble at the back of his throat. "You were made for me, weren't you, Baby Girl? And I was made to worship you."
-------------------------
By the time Bradley came, he was sweaty and babbling like a lovesick idiot. Everything he cared about most was right there in his arms as you took him deep, always welcoming him into your sweetness. The relief he felt was incredible as he finally rolled onto his back, pulling you a little closer as he went.
"I'm gonna be a girl dad," he said with a smile as he looked at the ceiling through his post orgasm haze. "I can't wait."
The slick friction from his cum teased at his leg hairs as your pussy rested against his thigh, and you snuggled up against his chest. "Me too, Roo. I'm so excited to meet her." 
Your fingers teased along his abs, lulling him ever closer to an afternoon nap. He knew that one of you needed to let Tramp back inside, and he was going to have to scrape together something for you to eat soon. But right now, he didn't want to move.
"What happened with your deployment?" you asked softly as he yawned. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now when he knew you were carrying his little girl, but he should have known you'd have questions. 
"It fucking sucked. Being away from you gets harder and harder each time now. They kept tacking on more weeks of these random bombing runs, and the weather was miserable. We had to fly in the rain half the time."
He listened to you hum, contemplating what he said. "It was so scary when you got called to action in the middle of talking to me over FaceTime. I couldn't stop crying. And then it was weeks before some random guy in personnel called me to let me know you were on your way home."
It was hard to believe he was on that flight back to San Diego just a few hours ago. "Honestly, in all of the excitement today, that already feels so distant in my mind," he told you, kissing your forehead as he thought about how long he had been away from you. "We didn't really know we were heading home until it was happening. And it was so late here when we got released, they told me they'd have someone reach out so I didn't have to wake you up again. Then there was only one seat left on the first flight home, and once Payback and I were being airlifted to Hong Kong, they told us to decide who was taking that spot. He gave it to me, no questions asked. Told me to get home to you and the Nugget."
You gasped and murmured, "Reuben is the sweetest."
Bradley chuckled as his fingers grazed along the side of your bump. "Yeah, well, you actually owe him three dozen chocolate chip cookies. That was the only stipulation for the deal."
Your laughter made Bradley's smile grow. "Totally worth it. Actually, since you made it home in time for my appointment, I'll make five dozen for him."
"No wonder everyone thinks I'm spoiled," he told you, tugging on you until you were straddling his hips and looking down at him with your hands braced on his chest. "Fuck. Just look at you." 
His sticky cum was matted in your pubic hair, and your tits looked delicious. There was no way he'd be able to keep his hands away from you now that he'd seen and felt your little bump in person. His daughter was growing in there. He smiled and ran his palm gently over your skin, stroking you with his thumb as your pretty gaze stayed transfixed on his.
"I'm happy you're home, Roo."
He nodded, eye lids growing heavy from jet lag and the time zones, and he simply didn't argue when you kissed his cheek and said you were going to let Tramp inside and then take a nap with him. Soon enough, Bradley was snuggled up in bed with his head resting next to your belly and your fingers tangled in his hair. Your sweet voice lulled him to sleep for the best afternoon nap of his life.
----------------------------
This has been a very emotional day for Bradley. He's home with his hot wife, and now he gets to start planning for the arrival of their daughter in a few more months! Thank you so much for reading about the Nugget! More to come soon, including the first wedding anniversary! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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afterglowsainz · 12 hours
Note
Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻
jealousy | jude bellingham
obsessed with this concept already !!
summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it
warnings: none
word count: 738
a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3
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you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.
“someone dm you.” he says.
his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.
“who?”
“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.
“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.
jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.
“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.
“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.
when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.
some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.
he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.
“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.
you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.
“sure.” you say.
he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.
when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.
“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.
“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.
“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.
“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”
“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”
jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.
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fraugwinska · 15 hours
Note
I swear your stories make my heart skip beats❤️🩷❤️🩷 I need some soft spicy Alastor x Female Reader. Maybe a Morning After scenario with Alastor and the reader (waking up together, being soft and cute. Kisses and stuff and maybe a slight continuation of last night😏😏)
After the last stories I was EAGER to write your request, my dearest @alastor-simp. I've accepted my rank as fluff fairy, and I oh-so-love to write these cute, tender moments!!! Thank you for this ask, I hope I did it justice!
For the best experience, I suggest to listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Love is', which I imagined the radio to play in the story (and listened to while I wrote it)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
We only have Forever
The birds in hell weren't like anything on earth – their songs were not sweet and melodic, but rather ominous and melancholic.
Which is why, when you were woken by an unusual, bright chirping sound, you thought for a split second you were alive again, waking up from an intense, unusually immersive dream.
You shifted, cheeks still pressed into the white, soft pillow and body messily wrapped in cotton sheets, too drowsy to realize that the chirp was not coming from birds, but the little, vintage radio that sat beside the bed in. It quietly came to life, the search for a channel resulting in high, pitchy squeaks and fuzzy static feedback. Which was always the tell-tale sign of a waking Alastor.
The arm around your waist twitched, causing you to sigh peacefully. Your lids fall close and you let it pull you back into the center of the bed, into a warm, waiting body - a soft chest, thinly covered in silky taupe fur that tickled your nose, an underlying, hearty scent of wood and vetiver and the familiar rhythm of another heart drumming against your ears.
You left your eyes closed, relying on the most comforting senses of touch, hear and feel, the latter came into use as the sensation of sleepy, light kisses on the crown of your head that caused your lips to pull into a blissful smile.
"Mornin' my buck."
"Good morning, my doe."
His voice was nothing more of a mumble, still lazy and half asleep, hoarse and slightly deeper than when up and about. When he finally seemed to have picked a radio station he liked, the room was filled with a soft, dreamy song which suited the very same ambiance that was present - happy, in love, slow, silent bliss. It was one of your favorites, and one of the few more modern ones Alastor tolerated.
He ran his slender fingers up your back and shoulders, through the disheveled masses of hair, stroking it gently with his sharp talons, scratching ever so lightly on the scalp. He pulled himself a little more forward, tangling his legs even more with yours in an effort to maximize the connection of your bodies and minimize the space that span between you.
"Hey, easy now or I'll think you're afraid I'll jump up and leave as soon as my eyes open." you teased playfully, as Alastor nuzzled his nose deep in your hair, taking in deep breaths, inhaling your scent and humming in content.
"I had hoped after all my efforts tonight you wouldn't be able to even if you tried, darling."
You flicked his ear in fake indignation, but chuckled and raked your fingers over his back in soft, tender streaks, your fingertips gliding over his spine and sides. He shivered under your touches and melted deeper into you. A rhythmic, shuffling sound joined in with the faint tune from the radio, and Alastor groaned when you purred in lofty pride.
"Damned, traitorous thing...", Alastor scowled, trying to evade the hand that reached for his wagging tail under the sheets.
"Don't you talk like that about my precious friend.", you cooed and caressed the plush fur on his lower back, scratching with nimble fingers close to the base of his tail, the very spot where he was extremely... responsive. Alastor just growled again, missing any angry or mad edge, his tail continuing to thump louder and even quicker and causing him to whine as he failed to stop its excited sway.
"It betrays me."
"No, it only tells me that you're happy."
Alastor tilts his head to brush his lips over your own, almost not touching, a tiny, bittersweet distance between his and your mouth.
"If it's that much more of a conservationist for you, maybe I should stop talking then."
With a faint, sighed chuckle he finally closed the agonizing gap, lips met lips in a slow and flowing embrace, moving almost at the tempo of the song, it's calming beat guiding the cadence and harmony of his kiss. You felt him smile, more relaxed and at ease that his usual signature grin, even though your eyes were closed shut in drowsiness and enjoyment. The slow, lazy, fullness of this morning's intimacy, of your bodies so closely pressed together in ruffled sheets while hell's sun was only slowly rising on the horizon, making out and embracing each other without the need to rush or be somewhere in another hour or so was a rare occasion and therefore worth savoring.
His hands traveled over your hips, up your waist to settle in a gentle, cradling grip around your neck, fingertips grazing the outer edges of the delicate bite mark still there as a reminder of the contrasting feverish passion you both shared last night. With Alastor - It was war and peace, in a circle - hard, unforgiving, passionate desire at the beginning of dusk, and soft, tender and sensual love at the break of dawn. A clash of burning flames and gentle streams, all on an even ground of equals.
You sensed the slight change in the mood, the licks over your parted lips with the warm tip of his tongue soon turned to be deep and demanding, less lazy and more eager movements from his tongue - exploring the insides of your mouth, playfully flicking yours and circling around and between your teeth. His large hand left it's spot in the crook of your neck and pulled on the base of you head, sinking his digits in the tuft of your hair. You moaned softly into the kiss, more of a wanton, sloppy sound rather than anything else and you started to grow flushed, your skin tingling pleasantly under every touch and lick and nibble.
You deeply enjoyed the roughness and depravity you shared in the nights, you really really did. But this, this was what you loved. It was when Alastor wasn't starved for you, endlessly hungry and hasty to devour you but when you were a well prepped meal, slowly cooked and seasoned with care and love that you felt the most powerful connection of your souls - his touches were careful and secure and when he held you in his arms like this, kissed and adorned you like that, every and any gesture or caress spoke so clearly the sentence he had captured your heart with - you are mine and only mine.
"You are saying an awful lot with that body language for someone who wanted to stop talking, my buck." Alastor laughed fondly at your husky breathed words, rolling you on top of him, sheets sticking to the planes of your bare bodies. You threw a leg over him to sit in a straddling position, your face a mere few inches above his as he rolled his hips and swayed your body against his growing length.
“That's the beauty of a loophole, my doe, for no spoken words could express me quite as honestly as this."
Alastor kissed you once more and, now grinning as devilishly as you were used to, let his hands find rest on your hips, ready to start one more of those heavenly nonverbal conversations before you both had to ready yourselves for the hellish world outside of your bedroom.
Again, thank you for suggesting this. And a big shoutout to @minkdelovely, who made my heart skip with her article on 'Pictures of you'. The fluff fairy had you in mind with this, too ;>)
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
Text
The Better, Not So Hidden Half
Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader
Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.
Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging
Word Count: 1.9k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.
Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.
“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.
“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.
Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.
“About what?” you reply.
“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”
“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”
Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.
“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”
“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”
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When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.
“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.
“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.
“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”
“Is he okay?” you whisper.
“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”
You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.
“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.
“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.
“Lucy, please.”
“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.
“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.
“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”
You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.
“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.
“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”
Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.
“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.
Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.
“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”
“The place where they met,” Talia answers.
Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”
“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”
“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”
“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”
“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.
“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.
She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).
“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.
“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.
“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.
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Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.
You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.
“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.
“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.
His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.
“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.
“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”
Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.
“Had to take this off,” he tells you.
You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.
“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.
“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.
“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.
“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”
“I warned you.”
“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.
Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.
“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.
“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”
“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.
“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”
Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”
“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”
Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.
“Hi again,” she tells you.
“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.
“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.
“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”
“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.
“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”
Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.
You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.
“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.
“Don’t,” you warn.
“You kissed me first.”
“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”
“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”
“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.
“I love you,” Tim replies.
He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.
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4m1rz · 2 days
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Little Tease
Kim Chaehyun x Male Reader
Tags: titjob, couch sex, daddy kink, creampie
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"I'll meet you at your place like usual, ok?"
"Sure, no problem bro. Don't be too hopeful that I'll be there today."
That's how the conversation between me, Moon Jiyeon and my friend, Kim Donghoon always goes. Me and Donghoon have been friends since we're in elementary school. Right now, we're both college students and I always go to his house just to hang out after our classes.
It's the end of my class right now. Yeah, if you all are thinking, me and Donghoon aren't in the same classes and we both have different courses; I'm taking the engineering course while he is taking the law course. Also, he's been in the college's student council since last week, so he's been a lot busy nowadays.
As I expected, I got a message from him saying that he wasn't able to hangout with me. I sigh as I have expected that this would happen. However, he still asks me to come to his place and somebody will hang out with me there. I then texted him again, asking who's gonna hang out with me at his place and he answered back with, 'his sister'. The minute I saw the word 'sister', I was dumbfounded.
Apparently, my friend has a little sister named Kim Chaehyun who is a year younger than me and my friend. Back then, when I hung out with Donghoon at his place when we're in elementary school, she was also there. The three of us are basically partners in crime as we all do things together back then.
However, things have not been the same since Chaehyun has been accepted to join SM Entertainment as a trainee. This causes her to be unable to hangout with me and her brother that often. When she was nominated as a member for Kep1er, both me and Donghoon were very ecstatic as the two of us know that she has been working so hard to be able to debut.
One thing that I still remember till this day is that she has once told me that she has a liking towards me when she was 10 and I was 11. Knowing that I'm going to hangout with her and still remember what she said when we're younger, I kinda have a thought of whether she still has a liking towards me or not.
Fast forward to now, I am already at the front door of Donghoon and Chaehyun's place. I ring the doorbell to indicate to the person inside that I have arrived. As I am waiting for the door to open, lots of thoughts come flying around my mind about Chaehyun, such as how she is doing, how she looks nowadays, and other stuff.
Then, I noticed the doorknob start to turn and the door opened. As the door opens, it shows the girl I'm thinking of just now, wearing a white sports bra with a blue shirt shrug and a white skirt. I was amazed with her pretty and sexy appearance with her assets shown, her thick thighs and her big busty tits which made me dazed for a while.
It was until she snapped her fingers in front of my face that made me wake up from it. Gosh, how stupid I was seeing her giggling shyly after that happened.
“Oppa, am I that pretty which makes you dazed just now?” She says that after giggling. The only thing I could do is just scratch the side of my head after hearing her ask. She giggles once more before inviting me to go inside the house.
After entering the house, I immediately sit on the sofa while Chaehyun sits on the armchair on the right. I was about to ask about what she's doing nowadays, but it seems like she beats me to it.
“So oppa, how is your life nowadays? It's definitely a shame that you hang out with my big brother less due to his roles.” She asks. “Well, it's just like that… It really can't be helped about his roles, I don't mind about it though.” I then answer.
Then, I ask her about her activities as an idol in which she answers with the usuals, practice and such. “Ah, I'm such a fool not to serve some treats for you, oppa. Oppa, are you ok with tea and crackers?” She suddenly asks.
After hearing her ask, I just nod to it which makes her go to the kitchen to prepare the food. As I am waiting for her to prepare the treats, I get a message from Donghoon that he might need a few more hours to deal with his work at the college. I was about to tell her that I might be leaving the place when I see Chaehyun bending down to find some kitchenware, I suppose. Surprisingly, her long skirt gets pulled up which shows her pussy.
At that moment, I was dazed a bit and my bulge started to appear from my pants. And with that, I try to distract myself by looking at my phone, trying to forget what I just saw. Without me knowing, Chaehyun is still in the kitchen, having a huge smirk on her face as her plan works.
A few minutes later, she comes back with a teapot full of tea, cups and a tray of plain crackers. She then goes to the opposite side of the coffee table, just right in front of me before putting all of the treats she brought from the kitchen. I was stunned yet again due to seeing her cleavage as she was bending down while putting the treats onto the coffee table.
I start to eat the treats that she had served me once she sits back on the couch beside mine. We both then start to chat about our past lives, how her idol life is at the moment and so on. Suddenly, I had the urge to ask her about what's lingering in my mind.
“You know, I somehow still remember about you having a liking for me…” I state. Her eyes bulge out a little after hearing that statement coming out from me and her cheeks start to redden. I then continued asking, “… so I wonder if you still have that feeling until now?”
After I asked her that question, I could see that her cheeks were fully reddened, which means she was blushing madly. It took quite a while for her to answer my question, just after her naggings on why I brought the topic out.
“Well… ummm… I s-still do… I lik- no, I love you, oppa.” She answers. I was shocked hearing that, which makes me speechless. “My feelings for you have never faded, heck it grew even more.” She continues.
I was in total shock after hearing her answer despite me correctly estimating her answer, but I did not expect that her feelings for me were that deep. In fact, it also shocks me that she said she loves me as I actually start to have feelings for her as well, just a bit later after her confession back then, well, about a year after the confession.
In an instance, I go sit right beside her and grasp her hands which makes her gasp for a bit. “Chae, I know this might sound awkward, but I do also have feelings for you. Well, a bit later after your confession when we were little.” I state it to her. My confession really makes her shocked even more and tears a bit.
“R-Really, oppa?” She asks. I then nod and continue to say more. “It's that, your affection and your attention towards me makes me fall for you.” I then give a peck on her lips which makes her even more stunned and her cheeks become even redder.
“S-So oppa, are we… a couple from n-now?” She asks while still sniffling. I just nodded before holding the side of her head and kissing her lips yet again; this time the kiss was a bit longer. She was yet again stunned at first, but then accepted it and kissed me back. The kiss would then turn into a 5 minutes making out session.
After we pulled away from the make out session, I somehow had the audacity to tease her. “I didn't expect this girl in front of me right now would tease me earlier by showing her bare pussy and cleavage.” I say, while giving a smirk towards her.
However, she surprises me by giving a smirk back towards me despite her flushed red cheeks. “Well oppa, I've planned this already. Donghoon oppa has told me about how you always hang out here, so I might wear this to seduce you.” She replies. “Besides, you love them do you, oppa?” She continues, while jiggling her covered tits.
I couldn't think straight as I was horny as fuck after all of the teasing from her, so I just nodded. This causes her to smirk more before removing the cardigan from her, which then later playing with the hem of the sports bra she's wearing.
“G-Gosh, stop teasing and just let me see your bare tits Chae.” I whine, which she obliges and pulls up her sports bra. This reveals her naked tits in which she jiggles it one more time towards me. I am amazed seeing her topless that lead me to pull down my pants and boxers in a single move which reveals my already hard dick.
“Oh oppa, such a big and hard dick you have. Let Chae help you relieve it, ok?” She says, before kneeling down and putting her hand around my dick before stroking it. I can only groan as she starts stroking my dick. Her hand feels so good all around it.
“Mmmmh, so soft, so good…” I say, to which she smirks even more. “Hehe, wait until what I'm going to do next, oppa.” She says. After a while, she removes her hand from my dick and replaces it with sandwiching my dick between her massive tits. This causes me to groan even more.
“Hehe, I knew it. You would definitely like this, oppa.” She chimes before starting to move her tits up and down, giving me a titfuck. I can only nod and groans coming out from my mouth are a bit louder. This excites her even more to which she licks the top of my dick that is able to emerge from her tits.
“Oh god Chae… You did wonder to me. Keep going, please.” I plead. This causes her smirk to grow even more and speeds up the titfucking. This results in me groaning even more.
After several minutes later, I started to feel that I'm feeling close to cumming. I believe that Chaehyun is also able to feel that I'm getting closer to ejaculation. However, just as I am about to cum, she releases her tits from wrapping around my dick, which causes me to groan in disappointment.
“C-Chae, why did you stop? I'm about to cum, and you know it too!!!” I whine. She giggles seeing my reaction before saying about it. “Oh oppa, I'll let you cum, but not on my tits. I want you to fill my pussy with it, oppa.” Her statement makes me speechless. Just as I want to argue, she talks again. “...and if you worry about getting me pregnant, you don't have to, oppa. Us idols have to take birth control pills frequently to control our hormone levels and stabilize our period dates.”
I still feel a bit skeptical about this, like is she for real? She, a K-POP idol who is also my friend's little sister, wants me to fill her pussy with my cum. My mind still feels clogged after receiving what she just said.
Then, I get from my dazed situation to see Chaehyun pulling down the only clothing she had left, which is the skirt. After that, she walks towards the larger couch and lays on it before spreading her legs, showing me her wet, glistening pussy.
“Come on, just take me right now. I won't be mad, as I also want this for a very long time… Please fuck me oppa, or I guess, daddy…” She persuades me and emphasizes the word daddy. I don't know why, but her calling me daddy brings out the side of mine that I didn't even know existed.
I get onto the same couch she is laying onto, before I stroke my dick and line it with her entrance. “Are you sure you want this, Chae? Won't you regret it later?” I ask her, to which she nods before answering, “...yes daddy, I won't regret this whatsoever as I've been waiting for this. Now please, claim this pussy of mine as yours, daddy.”
And with her approval, I started to push my dick slowly into her pussy. This causes both of us to moan loudly, feeling the sensation. “Oh god Chae… Your pussy feels… so t-tight!!!” I exclaim.
“Mmmmh, yes daddy!!! Your dick feels so… mmmmh… big!!! Please daddy, start thrusting it inside me, make both of us cum!!!” She moans so loudly, I'm afraid the neighbours could hear it. After that, I pull my dick until the tip still remains in her before pushing it back, indicating the start of my thrusts.
Her moans just keep getting out from her mouth as I keep thrusting inside her. “G-Gosh, you moan so loudly, Chae. You really want the neighbours to know, hmm?” I say and ask. That question makes her giggle a little before answers, “...they don't call me… mmmmh… the main vocalist for nothing. Besides, daddy's dick hitting Chae’s spots inside me feels really good!!!”
I chuckle a little as I hear her calling herself Chae, so cute. As I continued thrusting inside her pussy, I couldn't pull my eyes from seeing her massive tits bouncing up and down as I continued with my thrusts. This makes me follow my instinct and put both of my hands onto them and start fondling and groping them, which causes her to moan even more and also whimper a little.
“Mmmmh, that's it daddy!! Fondle Chae's tits, or suck on it, I don't care.” She says. Of course, I won't miss the offer as I removed both of my hands from her tits and replaced it with my mouth, sucking on her two massive mounds, starting with her right tit, then her left. This makes her whimper a lot more.
Several minutes later, I could feel that my dick starts throbbing, indicating that I'm really close to cum. “Chae, I don't think that I could hold any longer, I'm so c-close. You sure you really want me to cum inside, C-Chae?” I state. This causes her to wrap her legs around my back really tightly in an instance, not letting me get away from her leg lock.
“Don't ever think about pulling out, daddy. Chae means it, Chae really wants it. So please, CUM! INSIDE! CHAE’S! PUSSY!!!” Knowing that me trying to fight back is futile and seeing that she's really serious, I just followed her request and after a few more thrusts later, I started to cum deeply inside her pussy. As my cum hits her pussy walls, it triggers her orgasm that causes her to cum all around my dick.
After a couple minutes later, both of us finished and relaxed from our respective orgasmic state. I react first by pulling my flaccid dick out from her pussy before sitting at the other end of the couch. I could see some globs of our mixed cums start to leak out from her. Then, I slowly pull her and make her straddle my lap. Both of us then smile at each other before having a sweet, slow yet passionate make out session.
After both me and Chaehyun finished our make out session, we heard the sound of the front door opening. Both of us turn our heads towards the door and see Donghoon staring at us, which makes us blush in embarrassment. There's also the sense of fear and guilt as I am afraid he will scold me for screwing his little sister. However, instead of anger, he gives us a sneaky grin.
“Hehehe, seems like the ship has finally sailed. Congratulations, you two.” He says. This causes Chaehyun to blush even more while me being confused and distraught. The thing I've had in mind after what he just said is, ‘How long has this bastard been shipping me and his little sister?’
P/S: If someone's been waiting for my fics, sorry for make you guys waiting. Hope you all like this
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bigification · 3 days
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Step Daddy
"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.
"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"
"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.
I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.
I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.
"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.
"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.
"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.
"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.
"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.
That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.
Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.
Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.
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"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.
A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.
"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.
I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.
"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.
I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.
"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.
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chris-slut · 2 days
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ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 .ᐟ
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶ ׅ ࣪ smut, oral!male, pet names; (baby, mama, pretty girl, slut), p in v, protected sex; (always wrap before you tap!)
𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ✶ ׅ ࣪ dom!chris & fan!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ׄ   ׅ ྀ summer been a fan of the triplets for ages. you finally were able to get tickets to their new “LTT” coming up. when summer arrived; she had been so anxious. anxious for one thing only. chris sturniolo. summer had the biggest crush on him since she had started watching the channel. and one thing she knew; he doesn’t fall for fans. or she thought she knew.
chris - orange
summer - pink
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ׄ   ׅ ྀ SUMMER’S hands were shaking as she walks into the building for the let’s trip tour. she has been nervous about coming since she bought the ticket’s.
she wasn’t nervous to see matt, or nick. she was actually the most excited to see nick. but summer was nervous to see chris. ever since she began watching their channel she’s gained the biggest crush on the youngest triplet.
his hair— his eyes— his personality, just every little thing about him she thinks is perfect.
when she walks in, she follows the carpet on the floor to the booth for meet and greets. she was luckily able to get the premium ticket’s so she gets to meet them twice and take a group photo as well.
their booths go in birth order. nick ; matt ; chris. oh was she nervous to see chris. summer has no clue what she would even say to him— to any of them.
she’s atleast 10th in line, so summer has to wait a couple of minutes to even begin the session. when she walks up she’s greeted with nicks face. he’s got his arms open for a hug which she quickly accepts. they talk about thinks from vlogging to music to anything until time runs out. their time limit was short as hell so she wasn’t able to finish their conversation.
next is matt— she was getting more nervous by the second knowing chris is just after this one. she takes a glimpse over as she catches chris’s eyes on her, but he takes them off quickly before she fully has time to process anything.
her and matt really just walk about writing or anything under those lines. he’s more of a comfort triplet in her eyes since they struggle with the same things. they take their photo as summer gives him one last hug as she grabs her signed cards and walks over to chris’s stand.
he already has his arms wide open for her, which she accepts just like the rest. she could smell his dior sauvage with how close their contact was. he pulls away and looks down at her— a huge smirk plastered on his face.
“so, what’s your name?” chris asks as he bends over and begins to sign her card. she clears her throat. “s-summer,” she stutters. she stutters. fuck that’s embarrassing!
“cute name,” chris says in a flirty tone. she doesn’t take it that way tho because she KNOWS he would never flirt with a fan. especially a fan he’s known for less than 30 seconds.
summer mumbles a quick thank you as she looks back up at him, her cheeks turning a cherry color from their eye contact.
“so,” he says as he runs his hand through his hair, she thought that was the most attractive thing ever. “you got the premium ticket? y’know, for another selfie later?” chris asks as she nods. she can’t pull herself to say anything.
“alright alright, see you later then?” chris asks as his bottom lips now in his mouth, top teeth out for display. this makes her feel some type of way. “see you later,” she says to his as he hands her the signed card.
their time runs out, but chris pulls her in for another hug as he shoots his brothers a secret wink, them rolling their eyes. chris’s hands find her waist as he gives them a squeeze, letting her walk off.
ׄ   ׅ ྀ chris point of view .ᐟ
FUCK. the moment the fan— summer— walked into the room, i couldn’t control myself. her dark brown hair that lays on her shoulders covered in freckles made me feel some type of way.
she’s perfect. she’s all i’ve ever wanted. i gave her the last hug as i look over at matt and nick and give them the — i want her — look. they let out a silent laugh as they roll their eyes at me.
i give her waist a squeeze as i watch her walk off. she’s so fucking perfect. all i’ve ever dreamed about if i’m being completely honest.
jesus fuck— how am i gonna last on stage knowing she’s there. watching us. watching me.
a tent builds up in my pants as i think about her, thinking about the possibility’s i have with the girl. summer, that’s her name.
cute name for a cute girl.
  ׅ ྀ summers point of view .ᐟ
I swear i was catching chris looking at me on stage with that slutty smirk on his face. jesus christ. i know he’d never get with a fan, but the way he’s acting— i’m slowly second guessing my assumption.
i would catch him giving small smirks and winks towards my way, girls behind me saying it was for them. if only they knew.
i felt my core grow wetter every time his eyes landed on mine. his eyes would constantly move down to my lips, causing them to get sucked between my top teeth. fuck i just wanted him so bad.
i wasn’t even paying attention to what was happening around me, but all i heard was chris winning- cheers- and girls saying freaky shit.
right before he walked off stage while everyone was leaving the crowd, christ’s eyes moved to me and he shot me a “excited-to-see-you” wink.
  ׅ ྀ 3rd person point of view .ᐟ
as she walks up to meet the three, chris’s eyes immediately wandering around her body. the sexual tension between them was beginning to get to intense, both of them wanting nothing bout to fuck each-other senseless.
after hugging the other two, she hugs chris, “missed me?” he mumbles against her ear as he pulls away— her just looking at him.
she poses between both chris and nick, doing just a group photo. chris’s hands wander around her waist like earlier, giving it a squeeze. the heat between her core was burning— all she wanted was him.
*FLASH!* the camera clicks as she walks away from the boys, giving chris a little wave.
after that you either left or went to the back for the last round of photos, which the second option was summer’s.
she walks over and has her talks with the other 2 triplet brothers as they talk about anything, talking 0.5’s, tiktok’s, whatever.
then it was chris. his eyes were already on her the whole time which caused butterflies to swarm all in her stomach.
“hey chris,” she mumbled as she went in for another hug, chris’s hot breath going right onto her neck. “hey pretty, missed you y’know?” he says. what a fucking tease he is.
“really? to bad theirs only 3 minutes left,” summer tells him as she looks up to get a better view of him, sudden boldness coming out. her words made chris’s eyes widen, “yeah i know,” chris says as his eyes wander to the room next to him.
BATHROOM!
a smirk plasters on chris’s face as he notices the girls jaw slightly dropping, knowing what he was getting at. “i—“ summer clears her throat. “you know! maybe i should just—“ she starts to finish her statement from before but quickly gets dragged by her wrists by chris.
summer hears a click from a lock as chris’s hands find their way to the hem of the cargo skirt she wore. “been thinking of taking this off you,” he mumbles as he places a soft kiss right under her ear. his hands find way to her throat as he backs her up into the wall and places his lips on her roughly.
“f-fuck,” she breathes out which allows chris to slide his tongue past her lips, exploring every inch of her mouth that he could. the sound of teeth clashing and wet noises filling up the hollow room. “mmgh- fuck, knees,” he says as summer quickly gets on her knees as told.
he tries to take his belt off but he can’t, so summer quickly steps in to help. she takes his underwear down with his black jeans as her eyes widen at the sight of his length.
“like what you see baby?” he whispers as her eyes look up into his, she doesn’t reply as her hand is met with the base of his cock. his angry red tip on display right in-front of her eyes.
she lets spit drip down from her lips as she takes all the length that she could into her mouth— bobbing her head up and down. chris’s hands find their way into her hair as they make a ponytail.
he helps her take his full length as she stays their for a few seconds, then continuing to suck him off. groans come from chris’s mouth. he could get off at just the sight of you.
“such a fucking slut— my slut,” chris groans out-loud which caused her to get more soaked— which at this point wasn’t even possible.
right before chris was about to cum into your mouth, he pulls out. you let out a whimper as you stand up. he grabs the condom he left in his pocket as he puts it on around his length.
“c-“ before you could finish, your stomach hits the sink in front if you as he rips down her skirt, wasting no time to stick himself into her core. a loud groan falls from both their lips as she adjusted to his size. fuck was he huge.
“don’t have long— gonna cum!” chris moans a little louder than expected as the room is filled with skin slapping and groans from the pair.
he pushes his full length into you as he rolls his hips, a loud whimper coming from your mouth. “fuck chris, so good. so good!” she moans which made chris let out a satisfied whimper.
“fuck mama’s, gonna cum! gonna cum!” he moans as his load shoots into the condom, slowly pulling out of you. both your chests rising with slight sweat on you both. “fuck that was amazing,” you whimper out as you get your skirt back on.
“mm, yeah it was. doing that again for sure mama’s.” chris says. again?
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songsbygumi · 2 days
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Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair
| Megumi x reader
Summary- "Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it."
Warnings - reader use a skirt, use of Y/N one time, poor english, one mention of the pronoun her I think its just once I can change it tho.
A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP.
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Panda didn’t mean to snoop on Maki. I mean, come on, he was just chilling in the classroom waiting for the class to start when Maki barged in, shouting something like, “At this point, we should lock her with Fushiguro in a closet and hope she makes a move.” It took Panda less than five seconds to figure out that the 'her' Maki was talking about was you. He watched Maki leave the room, still clueless about his presence, chatting away with who he thought was Yuta on the phone.
Panda didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he knows, he has to tell Kugisaki, right?
“I think Y/n likes Fushiguro,” Kugisaki eyes widening as she connected the dots in her head. Everything suddenly made sense: how you get all flustered around him, how you always save him the last juice he loves at breakfast and give it to Inumaki to put it in Fushiguro's usual spot, how your face slightly drops when he mentions the date he had with the girl from the coffee shop, your eyes going soft when he talks, and Maki always trying to pair you two up for training. “I think they'd be a great match,” Panda adds, and they both grinned.
I
You have been waiting for an hour now outside the cinema. Fantastic Beasts is about to start, and Panda isn’t responding to his phone. You were supposed to meet here after spending your day at the shopping center.
“Hey Panda, I am at the entrance. The movie starts in fifteen minutes; you should hurry.” This is the fifth voice message you have left him. With a sigh, you turn your head to the street to see if you can catch him making his way to the theater, and that’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey,” you froze. It couldn’t be. You turned to face him. “Hi,” you blurted out, realizing Megumi Fushiguro stood before you, looking as gorgeous as always, his school uniform replaced by jeans and a hoodie. “Panda told me to let you know he couldn’t make it, but we can still go in if you want,” he offered.
You nodded following him inside, feeling like a little kid. “Ye...ah, cool, fuck Panda” you muttered behind him.
Did Panda invite him without telling you? Does Panda know about you liking him? You couldn’t say for sure.
“I didn’t know you were into Harry Potter,” he remarked, waiting for you. “Yeah... I’m kinda obsessed,” you admitted, blushing a bit, earning a chuckle from Megumi. “I'm kinda obsessed too,” he revealed, grabbing the tickets. You smiled, appreciating his easygoing vibe.
“I’m paying you, just let me know how much I owe you,” you say as the employee hands him the tickets.
“Don’t worry, Gojo sensei gave me enough to buy this whole place,” he says, brushing it off. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Yeah, uhm sure,” you said, swallowing hard, gathering the courage to keep talking.
“You like Harry Potter too, movies or books?” you wonder, not daring to look at his eyes.
His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Are you kidding? Books, of course,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Which book is your favorite?”
After a moment of thinking it, he responded, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”
“Incorrect” you said playfully, grabbing the popcorn and moving away. “What do you mean incorrect?” he asked, looking amused. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is right there” you argued, making him laugh.
You held the popcorn a bit too tightly, struggling to focus on the movie. You knew you were doing a bad job because by the end of it, you couldn’t remember a single thing besides Megumi's profile in the light.
As you walked back to school, chatting and feeling more comfortable, you found yourself agreeing with every single opinion of Megumi, encourage him to keep talking about it just because you didn’t have a single clue about what happened; you’ll have to see it again.
Later in your bed, you can’t help but think that maybe talking to Megumi Fushiguro wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought. Maybe you should keep doing it because talking with him was better than just staring at him from afar.
II
"Maybe you two should go together," Kugisaki suggested, smiling at her idea. Maki raised an eyebrow as she looked at you “It’s fine,” you said aloud. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t mind, of course, if you want, Fushiguro?”
Panda managed to hide a satisfied smile from you, but Maki's suspicious look caught him. “Sure thing, I’m down for it. It'd be nice not to deal with a crybaby while hunting for books." he remarked mockingly. “I’m not a cry baby!” Kugisaki protested, and you chuckled at the argument unfolding in front of you.
The library turned out to be smaller than expected, but your eyes lit up at the sight of shelves filled to the brim with books. The soft lighting and the background music of an Arctic Monkeys song made the atmosphere cozy; you could move here in a heartbeat.
“You weren’t lying when you said it was pretty,” you commented, turning to see Megumi standing casually, hands in his pockets, shrugging with a smile. He had a smile that could melt hearts. God, someone needs to make him stop smiling like that at you; he’ll kill you one of these days.
“You haven’t seen the best part” he said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs, making your heart race.
The second floor was packed with even more books, stacked everywhere, and inviting chairs that looked perfect for long reading sessions. It was like stepping into a book lover's dream. “This is amazing,” you whispered, caught up in the moment. Megumi wore a proud smile, happy to share this hidden gem with someone who appreciated it as much as he did. He kept holding your hand for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread in his chest, before letting go, leaving the pleasant sensation behind.
“Oh my god, look at this Pride and Prejudice edition,” you said, admiring the gold engravings on the cover. “Oh, is that Heartstoppers?” you exclaimed, passing the book you previously held to Megumi.
"If you asked Kugisaki or Panda, they’d say they had never seen Fushiguro smile so much before. He was admiring you from behind, helping you hold the books you picked and reaching the higher manga shelves without complaining. "Looks like it’s going well.” Panda said a bit too loudly, breaking the calm atmosphere. Fushiguro's head turned, and they held the books they were 'reading' higher to cover their faces. “Shut up,” Kugisaki scolded him.
You didn’t notice, too busy looking at all the books, but seriously, did they think Fushiguro Megumi was that stupid to not notice Panda? Whatever they were planning, he will make them spill it, but for now, he had to hold your books.
“Look, that’s one of my favorites,” he pointed with his head at The Song of Achilles, getting into your little bubble again. You took it without questioning him or the book, adding it to the pile.
III
You’ve been craving Matcha for a week now, and you’ve been begging Maki to accompany you to the coffee shop for days. and still every time she answers with "Not all of us are first-grade sorcerers, and yet you still need to practice for the exchange event, which is literally tomorrow."
She’s been relentless; dragging you out for early morning runs at five in the morning so you can practice your hand-to-hand combat skills before seven, insisting, “Your curse technique outperforms at long distance, but what if they get up close? You need to be ready.”
Despite your intense training, all you wanted was a relaxed afternoon sipping on a cold Matcha. Yuta would have easily convinced Maki, you thought, missing your best friend dearly.
“What’s with the long face?” Kugisaki interjected, sitting next to you on the benches, watching Maki kick Panda's butt. “Nobody wants to get Matcha with me,” you pouted. Kugisaki’s brain starts working, but before she can offer to go with you, a male voice interrupts, “I'll go with you,” Fushiguro beats her to it.
"Really? You don't have to," you replied.
“Nonsense, we're friends, right? I enjoy spending time with you; you're better company than all these clowns,” he says, and you barely caught the rest after "friends."
Okay, that hurt a little. Your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts as you studied Megumi's expression. Of course, he doesn’t see you as more than a friend; he's so cool, and you're... well, just you. Why is he staring? Why is no one talking? Oh yeah, right, “Sorry, yes, we are. So, see you at five at the entrance?” you blurted out, snatching your backpack filled with clothes and some of Maki's weapons before rushing off, "Bye."
...
“What if I don’t go?” you contemplated twenty minutes before your scheduled friends date with Fushiguro.
“He didn’t do anything wrong. How is he supposed to know you want more than friendship?” Maki questioned, resting on your bed.
"Whose side are you on?" you retorted.
"Yours, but let's be real, you're being a tad irrational. Slip on the blue skirt and just go."
Megumi Fushiguro wasn't quite sure why he arrived early, but he felt an inexplicable urge to see you sooner; waiting longer was out of the question. And it was worth it, seeing you in that blue mini skirt and oversized sweater, a shy smile gracing your face as you spotted him. You looked even cuter than usual, he considered.
“Ready?" he questioned.
"Yeah, let's go," you affirmed, beginning to walk alongside him towards the coffee shop.
The café bustled with activity; it seemed like everyone had the same Matcha cravings as you did. Navigating through the crowd to reach the cashier proved challenging, but you preferred the subtle movements over pushing people or raising your voice to get through.
You were focus on not inconveniencing anyone when two hands settled comfortably on your waist, guiding you forward and providing a shield against the bustling bodies.
You held your breath; even through the layers of your sweater, you could feel the warmth emanating from Megumi’s hands. Finally reaching the cashier, he removed one hand, leaving the other on your lower back. "Hey there, what can I get you?" the cashier's words snap you back to reality.
“Uhm...” damn it, did you forget how to talk?
"One Matcha latte and one black coffee to go, please" Megumi says watching you struggling.
"Sure thing, regular milk?" you shook your head in disagreement. "Almond milk, please," you requested. The cashier nodded, and before Megumi could reach his wallet, you’ve already paid.
“That’s not fair,” he complains; you had to get your eyes checked because you thought you saw him pout.
“It’s fine, don’t worry; you always pay” you reassured him, moving towards the other end of the counter, Megumi's hand still lingering on your back.
"Hey, Megumi," a girl called out from the opposite side of the counter. She was strikingly pretty, flashing a wide smile at Megumi, her attention fully captivated by him until she noticed you a moment later. "Oh, sorry, hi," she acknowledged you, then shifted her gaze back to Megumi, noting his proximity to you, and her smile faltered slightly.
"Hey, Katsuki" he greeted back.
"You haven’t been around lately as usual" Katsuki remarked.
“Yeah, been busy with school stuff," he explained, his free hand casually brushing his neck.
"You haven’t replied to my texts either" you felt like an intruder in a conversation you shouldn’t be in.
“Sorry, it has been crazy lately,” he apologizes. Another employee calls for your names, and you swiftly grabbed your drinks, offering him his coffee.
"I'll wait outside if you need a moment," you informed him.
"No, it’s fine," he says to you, moving his hand to find yours. "Sorry, Katsuki, I swear I’ll text you back tonight. Take care," he says, guiding you through the crowd.
Outside the café, silence lingered for a moment. "A bit overwhelming with the crowd for you, huh? Feeling overstimulated?" he teases, smiling, to which you nodded. "Let’s go, I know a spot you'll love." He took your hand again, and a surge of electricity seemed to buzz between your palms. If he felt it, he didn’t mention it.
It had been week’s full of mixed emotions; you had countless questions swirling in your mind, but for now, you chose to give in the comforting and welcoming presence of Megumi Fushiguro.
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qveerthe0ry · 18 hours
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Your Ride, Best Trip
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Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time
Marcus Pike is perfect. 
He’s your dream man. 
He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.
He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 
He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 
He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 
See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 
How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 
So you asked him what was up, and he told you.
Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 
You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.
After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.
You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 
And then he finally kissed you.
It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 
You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 
But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.
You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 
It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 
You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 
His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 
When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 
You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 
“Sweetheart—”
His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 
“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 
But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 
You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 
“What do you want?” 
His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 
“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 
But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 
“You’re lying.” 
You sigh and close your eyes. 
“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 
You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 
“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 
It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—
“I have a small dick.” 
His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.
He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 
“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 
He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 
“Marcus…”
“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“
“Marcus.”
You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.
“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 
He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 
“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 
You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 
Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 
“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 
He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 
“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”
“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 
He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 
“Everyone?” 
You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 
He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 
“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”
He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 
“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?
All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”
He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 
“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 
There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 
“Really?”
You scoff. 
“Really really.”
A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 
“Why?”
“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”
His face flushes, but he lets you continue.
“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”
“Me too,” he whispers.
“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”
You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 
“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah… For one, your hands.”
“My hands?”
He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 
“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”
He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 
“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”
He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.
“And I love to give head.”
“Jesus.”
“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 
“Sweetheart—”
“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”
He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 
You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 
“You’re not lying.”
His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 
“Fuck.”
It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 
“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 
That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 
His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 
You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 
You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 
Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 
You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 
Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 
But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 
He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 
“I think about you, too. All the time.” 
You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 
“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 
Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 
“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”
Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 
He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 
His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 
“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 
The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 
“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”
You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 
He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 
He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 
“Marcus—”
“I know, I know.”
His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 
“Can I?”
You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 
“Oh, are you that sensitive?”
His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 
“It’s just you.” 
And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 
And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 
“So sweet, huh?”
You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 
He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 
“That’s all for me?” 
There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.
But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 
He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 
“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 
The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 
“Yes, please.”
He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 
Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 
You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 
It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 
“You sure you’re ready?”
You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.
“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”
He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 
The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 
He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 
His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.
“You’re soaked.” 
His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 
The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 
Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 
There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 
You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 
“That feel good, sweetheart?”
Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 
“You have no idea.”
He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 
“I think I do,” he mumbles.
He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 
You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 
All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 
You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 
Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 
But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 
You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 
“That’s it. This what you needed?”
A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.
He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 
“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 
You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 
You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 
He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 
“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 
You huff. 
You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 
Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 
“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 
He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.
He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 
He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 
All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 
The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 
Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 
All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 
Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 
A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 
His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 
“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 
You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 
His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 
It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 
“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 
To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 
All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 
As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 
His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 
He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 
Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 
His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 
And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 
You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 
Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 
“So… How’d it compare?” 
Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 
“Pardon?”
But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 
“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 
You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 
“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 
He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 
You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 
“Better,” you whisper. 
You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 
And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 
You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 
You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 
He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 
His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 
So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 
But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 
But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 
“Will you let me suck it?” 
All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 
“Please.” 
It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 
He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 
You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 
So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 
Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 
You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 
He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 
His little cock. 
It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 
And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 
You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.
When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 
You’ll make him look, one way or another. 
For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 
He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 
And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 
It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 
You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 
You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 
Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 
You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 
It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 
You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 
“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”
Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 
He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 
He says your name. 
You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 
He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 
“Sweetheart, stop, please.”
You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 
“Are you okay?”
He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 
“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”
“Marcus.” 
His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.
“Do you want to fuck me?” 
You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 
“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”
He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 
“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”
His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 
“Yeah? You still want it?” 
His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 
“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 
You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 
“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 
You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 
For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.
The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 
He’s so hot. 
It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 
“Please,” you whisper. 
He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 
“Perfect, sweetheart.”
He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 
“Are you ready?”
You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 
You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 
You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.
“Oh fuck.”
You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 
“Fuck, Marcus, please.”
You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 
He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 
But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 
And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 
“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 
Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 
“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”
A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 
“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”
You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 
“Yes ma’am.”
Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 
He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 
His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 
But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 
His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.
Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.
“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 
Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 
“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”
His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 
Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 
There’s screaming. 
You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 
“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”
“In me.”
Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 
His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 
He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 
His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 
“Jesus,” he says.
Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 
“Huh?” 
God, how are you ever going to move again? 
“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”
Christ, why is he using such big words? 
“What are you talking about?” 
He clears his throat. 
“You like— You squirted?”
You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 
“I what?”
You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 
“Yeah, like, a lot.”
He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 
You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.
“What?” 
“Why do you seem so surprised?”
His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 
“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”
He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 
He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 
You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 
He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 
“Hi,” he whispers. 
You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.
It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 
Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 
“That was—”
“It’s never—”
You both chuckle. 
“Ladies first.”
You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 
“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 
“It’s never been that good.”
A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 
It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?
You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 
“When can we go again?”
173 notes · View notes
fear-is-truth · 2 days
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TAG, YOU’RE IT
— Kai Anderson x fem! reader
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WARNINGS: 18+. mdni — porn with plot. violence. vaginal fingering. unprotected p in v. size kink. implied murder. english is not my first language. not proofread as usual
WC: 2.7k
A/N: this was kinda rushed due to school exams and college applications, sorry in advance for the poor quality. but i adored this idea so much, hope it’s not too awful.
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Vanity tables were crammed into the limited space, each adorned with a haphazard array of makeup and tools. Sighing, you grabbed the clown mask that was sitting on your table and pulled it over your head, its cool, rubbery texture making your skin crawl. In the mirror, the grotesque reflection stared back— sickly pale skin mottled in patches of green and blue, reminiscent of moldy cheese. Painted in garish shades of red, the mouth stretched open in a nightmarish grin, revealing rows of jagged teeth.
As you tucked in the stray strands of hair peeking under the latex, your thoughts drifted to your less-than-enthusiastic job as a scare actress in a haunted house. It wasn't as fun as it had been when you first started a year ago, but it paid the bills. Plus, you needed the money, having broken up with your boyfriend whom you discovered was cheating on you. You used to share an apartment together, but now you were on your own, struggling to make ends meet in order to afford a small, dingy one-room apartment in Michigan.
Disgusted at your reflection, you finally tore away your gaze, fingers fumbling to adjust the straps of your tight black and red corset. The garment cinched tightly around your waist, flaunting your assets in such a whorish way that it made you cringe inwardly, and its scandalously low neckline revealed more cleavage than you were comfortable with.
“So, guess who showed up earlier?”
Your eyes flicked over to where your colleague was hunched over her mirror, tying her mousy blonde hair into a ponytail.
“Who? Not Alex again, right?”
“Yes of course I’m talking about Alex.” Lena rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the disgust she harboured for your ex-boyfriend.
“He came during break time, asking about you,”
You rolled your eyes, annoyed.
“Ugh. The fuck did he want this time? I’ve told him, I didn’t take his stupid DVD-”
“-said he wanted to talk.”
she pulled her mask over her head.
“Well, I’m not interested,”
“Way ahead of you, I told him you were swamped.” Lena's voice came through muffled, her words slightly distorted by the mask she wore. Before you could thank her, a booming, deep voice interrupted from the door frame.
“Hey, scream queens,” Terry, your boss called out, tapping the doorframe. “We’ve got our last visitors for the night. You two are up in five.”
“Just so you know,” Lena added as she finished lacing up her boots, and started for the doorway, “if he keeps on pestering you, I’ll slash his tires.”
Even though she couldn’t see your face through the clown mask, you couldn’t help but smile.
“Thanks,”
“Don’t thank me, I know you’d do the same for me,”
———
Stepping out of the hidden door, you melted into the shadows, waiting for your target to show up. From your vantage point, you could hear footsteps echoing through the dark corridor, signaling their arrival. They turned around the corner, and just as you were about to make your move, a sudden blur of movement startled you. Before you could react, the man swung his arm, the paper cup in his hand spilling its lukewarm contents all over your front.
Stumbling back in surprise, you felt the brown liquid seeping through the eye holes of your rubber mask and trickling down your cheeks, the scent of coffee invading your nostrils.
Furious, you ripped off your mask, wiping the droplets from your cheeks before staring incredulously at the man before you.
“What the fuck?! You asshole!”
He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, a mop of electric blue hair cascading to his shoulders. Hands tucked casually into the pockets of his jeans, he looked down at you.
“Oops, sorry… you scared me, miss,” he apologised somewhat lamely, though you doubted his sincerity, judging by the smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His attention shifted from your face to your revealing clown girl costume, taking in the corset with its low neckline, the miniskirt, and fishnet leggings.
The lasciviousness of his stare made you feel a twinge of unease, as if he was mentally undressing you with his gaze (which, in truth, he probably was). Despite feeling violated by his blatant eyefucking, a small surge of pride bubbled up within you. After all, he was undeniably a prick, but there was no denying his attractiveness—much to your deep annoyance.
“If I wanted to see a cheap Harley Quinn ripoff, I could’ve stayed home and watched porn on my computer. Nice tits, though-”
You were a good, law-abiding citizen, and you certainly weren’t an advocate for violence, but this douchebag was really pushing your limits.
Without thinking, your hand shot out, aiming to wipe that smirk off his face. But before your palm could make contact, his fingers closed around your wrist like a vice, halting your movement mid-air.
“Feisty, aren’t we?”
“Let go of me, you creep-”
“Name’s Kai, by the way.” he snarled, twisting your arms behind your back.
“Kai Anderson,” exerting pressure, he forced you to bend your knees until you were lying on your back, helplessly pinned beneath him.
“I don’t care who the hell you are-”
You spat, thrashing wildly and driving your knee towards his groin. But instead of hitting your intended target, your knee collided with his lower abdomen, which was packed with hard muscle. He must’ve hit the gym alright. Kai’s nostrils flared, but he didn't flinch. If anything, he seemed irritated by your resistance.
His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. With a sharp crack, his palm connected with your cheek, sending a jolt of pain ringing through your skull and causing your vision to blur momentarily at the edges.
“Y’know,” he began in a voice that was dangerously calm. “If it were someone else disrespecting me like this, I’d do more than a slap. Hell, I’d snap their fucking neck,”
“Wha- what do you want from me?”
Your voice came out in a weak croak as your vision swam back to focus. Strands of blue hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. Your faces were inches apart.
“I’m just trying to help you, can’t you see that? You're better off without that worthless piece of shit, Alex.” You blinked, your dazed mind trying to register his words.
“Alex? How’d you.. wait, did he set you up to this? Is this some sort of sick joke!?”
Anger and betrayal flared up, prompting you to resume your struggle. His grip around your wrist tightened, and you could feel your pulse racing in tandem with his.
“No, I’ve been watching you,” his tone was devoid of shame or guilt. “studying you. And I can see that you're too good for him.”
“Aren’t you tired of being the giver, while all he does is take?” he continued. “Everything you do, you do it for him. And how did he repay you? By fucking a random girl at a party. Doesn’t seem fair to me.”
Your limbs slackened in defeat. He was twisting the knife; that part was unmistakable, and he was close to succeeding. The sting of tears threatened to blur your vision, but you staunchly refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“So, let me guess,” you drawled, “next, you’re gonna tell me that you, will treat me better than any man ever could. Yeah, right.”
To your surprise, the corners of his mouth quirked into a wry smile.
“No, I’m not gonna tell you that,”
Kai paused, then took your silence as permission to keep talking.
“You, are an independent, strong woman. You're gonna take what you want and deserve, on your own terms. You don't need a man to do that for you,”
His thumb brushed gently against your bottom lip, dark eyes roaming greedily over your features as if he was trying to commit every single detail to memory.
“Now tell me.. what exactly do you want?”
Heat burned on your cheeks. You had a feeling that you both knew what you wanted.
“Go on,” he coaxed, “You can tell me,”
“You,” your voice was barely unrecognisable to your own ears.
“I want you,”
He smiled, as if he’d been expecting that answer all along. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. Warm, soft. For a split second, your mind seemed to disconnect from your body. He sighed into your mouth before slipping his tongue inside, swiping lazily against your hard palate. You bit back a moan when you felt his clothed erection rub against your thigh.
“Thank you, lamb. Because I want you too,”
A few moments later, he pulled back and let go of your wrists. His hands started to travel down your neck, stopping at the frilly neckline of your corset. With one swift motion, he jerked the cups halfway down, freeing your breasts from their tight confines. You could hear a low groan escape him as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples.
“Fuck… look at those pretty tits. Someday, I’m gonna cum all over them.”
As if driving the point home, he traced his thumb against your nipple, alternating between palming the soft flesh of your breast and pinching your nipple, making you whimper and arch your back, desperate for more stimulation.
“Patience, patience,” he chided teasingly, “There’s something I wanna check first.” His tone was light, but you could sense the effort he put into maintaining his composure, his voice laced with a thinly veiled lust that dripped from every syllable.
Kai’s hand slid lower, skimming past your abdomen and disappearing under your skirt, coming to rest on your inner thigh. He gave the soft, sensitive flesh a squeeze before slipping a finger under your panties. Leaning forward until his face was aligned next to yours, he took your earlobe gently between his lips and sucked it once, the sensation making you shiver in pleasure, before releasing the flesh with a wet pop.
“Hm, just what I thought. So wet for me already,”
He pressed the back of his index between your folds, collecting some of your slick and dragged it up to your clit. Your knees buckled involuntarily when he applied more pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Do you want me to stop? Because-”
“No,” you gritted out. “Don’t stop,”
He smiled.
“Wasn’t planning to, anyway,”
Without warning, he unceremoniously shoved two fingers into you, sinking in knuckle deep. A wet, guttural noise escaped your throat at the sudden intrusion and your cunt clenched— once, twice when his sizable digits curled against your sweet spot.
“Like how it feels?”
Unable to form coherent sentences, you nodded, your mind swimming in a lustful haze at the delicious stretch of his fingers scissoring inside you. As soon as your legs began to quiver, Kai retracted his fingers, making you clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but let out a needy whine of indignation. He yanked your soaked panties to your ankles in one, swift tug.
“Good girl. Time for your reward,”
Kai flashed you with a set of pearly white teeth. Triumphant and somewhat predatory, the effect made you tremble in anticipation. He unbuttoned his jeans and yanked down the zipper, shifting his hips to pull his cock out from his boxers.
You had only suspected he was huge, but now it was confirmed—seeing is believing, after all. Quite veiny, too.
Unable to tear your gaze away, you simply gawked as he wrapped his fist around his impressive length, giving it a couple of harsh pumps before positioning himself between your legs.
You moaned in unison as he pushed inside you, pleasure accompanied by pain shooting straight through your cunt to your entire body. The mere size of him stretched you; filled you up in a way that nobody else had ever done before. Made you wonder if your body was physically capable of accommodating him. It stung, but it also made you feel whole. Squeezing your eyes shut, you dug your fingernails into his shoulder, leaving crescent indents.
“Hah— oh fuck, baby…you’re so perfect for me-”
Kai’s voice cracked as he bottomed out, his handsome features twisting in rapture as your walls clamped down on him. He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling back slowly, just to slam back into you with a grunt. You swore that you could feel the tip of him touching your gut and you mewled. He soon established a rhythm that was both harsh and punishing, prompting your pussy to tighten around him ominously.
“Nngh—ahh…Kai, please, it’s to much-”
Curling an arm behind you, his hand snaked to the back of your skull, fingers tangling in your hair before finally, finally, he crushed his lips onto yours in a searing kiss. You felt him throb inside you as his thumb worked against your clit furiously, and that was all it took to send you over the edge.
The hot coil finally snapped, and your hands found purchase in his hair to hold him in place as your orgasm crashed over you. You keened as a wave of white-hot pleasure rippled through your veins, leaving your nerves tingling and muscles twitching. Through your pleasure-induced haze, you watched as Kai continued pounding into you. A raw moan that sounded almost like a whine tore through his throat, accompanied by a final thrust of his hips. He came inside you, thick, hot spurts of come filling your womb as a string of indiscernible curses tumbled past his lips.
Panting heavily, he lowered his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, ragged breaths hitting your skin as he waited for any residual spasms to abate.
A film of sweat coated his forehead, and his hair clung to his face. Juxtaposing with the brutal way he had been fucking you only seconds ago, Kai brushed his thumb against your cheekbone, lips pressing softly against your forehead before he pulled out with a satisfied groan.
———
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, heart pounding in your chest as you pulled on your panties.
“There are cameras everywhere, I’m gonna get in so much trouble for this-”
“Don't worry,” his voice was surprisingly calm.
“I’ll take care of it later.” Instead of heading towards the neon green exit sign as you’d expected, Kai made a beeline towards one of the supply rooms, you trailing behind with growing confusion.
It struck you as odd how familiar he seemed with the layout, as if he had been there many times before.
“Hey, what are you—” you began, but the rest of your words caught in your throat the moment he pushed open the door.
There, tied up in a chair was none other than your cheat of an ex-boyfriend. Alex’s eyes widened in recognition as he spotted you, and he began thrashing wildly, his muffled screams stifled by the duct tape stretched across his mouth. As if things weren’t confusing and fucked up already, your friend emerged from the back of the small room.
“He wouldn’t stop screaming, sorry,” Lena explained, reaching out and pinching his cheek. Another girl, her long, bleached blonde hair peeking out from under a black beanie hat, caught your attention. With a casual nudge of her toe, she pushed aside some spare rope before shooting a flinty stare at Kai through long eyelashes.
“Took you long enough,”
“Hey, since when am I not allowed to have fun?”
Kai’s combat boots echoed against the linoleum floor as he strode towards where your ex was being tied up. His expression was unreadable as he leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart. As if in a trance, you found yourself drawn towards Kai, anticipation and adrenaline pumping through your veins as you relished the delicious fear emanating from Alex. You watched as Kai reached for something from his pocket—a glint of metal catching light. A switchblade.
“Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,”
He murmured in a low, almost sultry whisper, toying with the blade between his fingers.
“-blood and revenge are hammering in my head.” You finished softly.
“Titus Andronicus, right?” you smiled back. Kai’s expression morphed into one of sadistic pride, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he nodded slowly. The blonde girl groaned quietly in the background, “Another Shakespeare nerd,”
“Give me your hand,” You immediately complied, reaching out your hand.
“No, no. Palm up,”
Kai corrected gently, and you adjusted accordingly. His calloused, much larger hand enveloped yours. Still holding your hand, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss on your knuckles. The gesture was strangely intimate, and it made your stomach flutter with warmth.
“Are you ready?”
You nodded.
“Good girl,”
He smiled at you, then you felt the weight of the knife handle being pressed into your open palm.
“You know exactly what you have to do, don’t you?”
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pit-and-the-pen · 2 days
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My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys
A/N: Part Two to Requited Love
I know people have been waiting for this. And the poll is still active but I couldn’t wait any longer. There are two endings and this is the unofficial (in terms of my ongoing Sunbeam series) Azriel ending but… just bare with me
Read the other ending Here
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort , implied smut (not with Az)
WC:4.4 K
divider by @cafekitsune
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The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 
“I’m going back home.” 
He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.
“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 
“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 
“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 
“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 
“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 
I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 
Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 
It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly. Helion
 He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 
Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 
“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 
“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 
“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.
“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”
My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.
“I need you to break a mating bond”
His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 
“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 
“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 
“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 
“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 
Helion was powerful, but apparently not powerful enough to break a mating bond. Many had tried but no one had ever successfully achieved it without one or both parties dying. As much as I resented Azriel, I didn’t want to kill him, nor myself to be rid of him. So I would just keep ignoring that little golden feeling in my chest, the feeling that seemed to be growing more everyday. 
I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 
Worst of all, I truly did miss Azriel. Time had given my anger less of an edge. Thinking of him didn’t hurt the way it once had. Didn’t have me spiraling in on myself until I was nothing more than sobs. I still wasn’t ready to forgive him but I wasn’t angry anymore and that had to count for something right? And it had nothing with the small feelings I would occasionally receive from the other end of the bond. I don’t know if he was consciously doing it or if it was purely because of the depth of the emotions he felt. 
I stopped looking for ways to sever the bond between us. Content with just letting it sit unreturned in my chest for the rest of my very long life. 
Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 
I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 
The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as the last button snapped into place. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 
Facing the mirror, I was blown away by the person standing in front of me. I didn’t recognize her. My hair was pinned up into a flowing updo at the base of my neck. I caught eyes in the mirror and whirled around to see Helion racking his eyes over my figure.
He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 
“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 
“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 
The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 
I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 
“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 
His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 
“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. But I couldn’t help that twinge in my gut that made this feel wrong. Even with all of him pressed up against me. Eris would only have to say the words and any fae in Prythian would be on their knees before them. Even I had to admit he was devastatingly handsome. So I fought against that little voice screaming at me and leaned into his touch more. 
Before I knew what had happened, I felt Eris’ warmth leave me. I shuddered at the new chill in the air. When I looked around, I saw shadows wrapped around my torso, lovingly coiled around my waist. I almost smiled at their weight. 
“Keep your hands off of her.” Azriel growled at the High Lord woh did nothing but smirk at me as I was pulled from the room onto a balcony just outside the ballroom. 
 “You had no right!” I screeched at him, wrenching my arm from his grasp. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 
“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 
“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 
“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “No. Not because of that, because I knew that you were the one person who could utterly destroy me. Mor was a pass time. She was convenient and it would have made sense for us to be together in some capacity. Then Elain showed up. I saw so much of her in you, she was sweet and kind but she wasn’t you. Looking back, I don’t even know why I was so hung up on her. I’m not saying I wasn’t stupid because I was and I said some awful things to you. I said them because I knew that was the only thing that would get you to realize I would never deserve you.” 
“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 
“No. I don’t think you’re stupid at all. The exact opposite. Yet for some reason you never ended up breaking the bond. Which would have been the smart thing to do. You deserve that, I deserved that.” 
That made me pause. “How did you…Did Helion tell you?” Angry at the idea of Helion running to Azriel with that information. 
“Helion told Rhys who passed it on to me. Rhys explained what would most likely happen if you decided to break it and before he could tell Helion he had lost his mind, I told him if that’s what you wanted to do I would accept that.” He said plainly. A part of me knew he was telling the truth. 
“Don’t be stupid. You would have died if I broke the bond. It wasn’t the same as rejecting it. That type of magic broke the very part of you it formed to.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. 
“I know. And I figured that if you were in enough pain to take that risk, to risk you dying, then I should be willing to risk it for a situation I had put us both in.” My mind was reeling at his words.
“That night..” I started, he interrupted me.
“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 
“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 
His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 
I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. 
“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 
“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone.” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. Because the moment I looked into his eyes I felt the other side of the bond snap into place. I gasped at the feeling I had spent so long ignoring. The bond seemed to sing in the air around us. My own sunlight flickering under my palms as I felt the sincerity of his words pump through the bond. The feeling was foreign but warm. It wrapped around me like a blanket, soothing my tense muscles. I didn’t realize how much the empty bond had been weighing on my shoulders. 
“You know this doesn’t change anything.” Was all I said and as he looked at me again, I knew that was a lie. “We can’t start over. There's no way to take back everything you said, everything you did” I said once I regained my ability to talk. His face sank completely.”I won’t break the bond. But I’m not accepting it either.” I ignored that kernel of hope I felt from him. 
“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He leaned closer to me, taking my face in his hands. I didn’t fight him as he tilted my head up to meet his eyes. His eyes flickered to my lips but he just pressed a chaste kiss to the top of my head “I would cut off my own wings if you said it would make you happy.” He swore. A shudder racked through at the sincerity in his words. I pushed out of grasp and walked back down to the ball still in full swing. 
--------------------------
A strong pair of arms wrapped tighter around me as I started to rouse from my dreams. I snuggled deeper into the blankets tucked around me and laughed at the hand starting to creep higher up my naked chest. Rolling over I was met with baby blue eyes. Sol smirked at me as I stopped his wandering hands. “Was last night not enough for you?” I joked and he beamed at me. He rolled me over so I was underneath him
“How could I ever get enough of you?” He started kissing a trail down my neck and I groaned as a rush of desire flooded my veins. Ignoring the tug of anger that followed it. I hooked my leg around Sol’s waist and pulled him down to me. 
I smiled as I walked into work, willing the flush in my cheeks to tame itself as I settled amongst the books still sprawled across my desk. 
“Busy morning?” Aurora said, covering her mouth as she tried to hide her smile. 
“Very.” I returned, laughing at her faux scandalized look. 
“I don’t know how you manage to pull yourself away from him. If that was me I would ri-” 
“Aurora!” I chastised her. Smacking her arm playfully. My mind drifted off to the activities this morning. While we weren’t official, it had become a recurring event of Sol and I waking up tangled in my sheets. I was lucky to get out of the door on time those mornings. He kept pushing for something more solid. But some nagging part of me just couldn’t do it. I hated the idea of leading him, and that wasn’t my intention when this all started. He had caught my eye after that conversation with Azriel at the ball and it took one flirty joke before my lips were crashing against his. 
Sol was sweet and kind. He had been patient with me as I sorted out all of my own shit. Never giving me push back when I shut down the conversation of what exactly I wanted from this. Which I truthfully didn’t ever have an answer for. He put up with me pulling him into my bed night after night but I knew eventually he was going to grow tired of this arrangement. My stomach churned at the thought of now spoiled memories of his hands roaming over my body. I sighed, laying my head against my desk. Letting the cool wood calm my nerves. 
It came later than I had expected it, honestly. He was kinder than I deserved for the months I had led him on. His mate. I could laugh at the irony. But I wished him well with one last searing kiss and that was that. I truly did want the best for him, and I knew that wasn’t me. Not at my current state. 
I retreated into myself after that. Maybe there's something wrong with me. It was hard to keep those thoughts at bay. Everyone always found better things than me. Always the second choice. Those words I had spilled to Azriel had  come from the deepest part of my soul. All the cruel things he said to me were replaying in a loop until I felt tears spilling down my face. 
A frantic knock at my door pulled me from my despair. I didn’t even have time to wipe away the tears before I saw Helion standing in my doorway. His face held none of his usual charm. No, standing before me was Helion, not the playboy but the High Lord. 
“It’s Rhys.” That was all he had to say for me to take off sprinting along the halls. Helion could barely keep up with me and I wretched the door to his study open. 
Rhys didn’t so much as look up as I barreled into the office. I reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What's wrong?” And Rhys just broke in front of me. He explained about Feyre’s pregnancy. The wings that would most likely kill her. I felt my stomach drop to my feet.
“How can I help, Rhys?” I saw the pain in his eyes. 
“Just try to find if this has ever been attempted. Or if there's a way to make this safer for her.” Rhys looked like a shell of himself and I knew I would do whatever I had to do to never see him look so broken ever again. I knew what I needed to do as hard as the words were going to be to get out.
“I’ll come back with you.” He looked like I had grown three heads. “Between my research and healing, I’ll be the next best thing after Helion to help Feyre with this. Please. Let me help her survive this.” His eyes welled with tears as he just nodded. 
“I can’t thank you enough.” He wrapped his arms tightly around me. The laugh that left my lips was tense. 
“Thank me once we save her.”
“Of course. It’s the least I can do after you helped me so much.” I placed a hand over his shaking one. 
I didn’t pack much. Most of which was as many books that Helion could bother parting with. All on various topics, Illyrian anatomy, childbirth and healing. I’d been healing since I was a child. With Madja by my side, even if we couldn’t find a way to safely deliver the baby, we could prevent Feyre from bleeding out. 
Rhys came the next morning to winnow me to the Night Court. I said goodbyes for now to my new friends. Helion had given me a tight hug as he thanked me for doing what he could not. 
Feyre greeted me exuberantly, crushing me against her as well as she could at the bump jutting out from her stomach. She was glowing. From the look of her, she didn’t have too much longer to go and I felt lightheaded at the thought of how much research I had to do in not much time. 
I was standing up on the roof, looking out at the lights of Velaris when I felt him behind me. I didn’t turn around as he joined me near the railing. 
“Thank you for being here. Rhys already seems more comfortable, more like himself.” My nod was the only acknowledgement I gave him that I had heard him. He signed and stayed looking out at the skyline. 
“Look...” He started. I cut him off.
“Don’t do this again, Azriel.” There was no anger in my voice this time. Just the voice of something who was so broken, broken because of this man. “We can’t go back and change the past. We can’t start over and you’ll never be able to undo the pain you caused. “
“Let me try. Please. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” His tone was just as raw as mine. And something in me broke. The part that was tired of pretending my feelings went away. I knew deep down in my heart that this was another chance. 
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to love you the way I did before.” I risked a glance over to him and I was blown away by the breathtaking smile that graced his face. 
““I’ll take you any way that you’ll have me” I knew he was telling the truth. It was there under the stars I realized, though it wouldn’t happen over night, loving Azriel would be as easy as breathing.
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ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
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ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."
Word count: 3,800.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
MEETING - 1. Her.
Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable determination, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."
Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.
Every night, in silent prayers, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."
Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.
She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.
Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.
Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.
"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.
"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.
"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg. 
"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.
"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.
"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.
"Thank you, Jace."
"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.
He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.
"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.
"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"
"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.
"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.
"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.
"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.
"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.
"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.
"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.
Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.
"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.
"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.
Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.
"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."
She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.
Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.
"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.
"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."
"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."
She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"
"It's beyond our understanding."
She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.
Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.
"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.
"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"
"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.
"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.
Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?
"They gave me a pig!"
"A what?" the queen asked.
"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.
She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.
"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.
Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.
"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.
The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.
She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.
It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.
She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.
"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."
"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.
"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.
"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.
"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.
"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.
"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"
"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.
"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.
"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.
"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.
"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."
She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.
There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.
She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.
They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.
Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.
She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.
"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.
"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.
She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.
She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.
Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.
Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.
Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.
She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.
It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.
The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.
She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so she cleared her throat and, with her book in hand, marched towards him.
Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.
She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.
She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.
He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.
How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.
Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.
"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom." 
She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."
Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"
"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.
"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.
"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.
"Yes, of course."
"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.
"Yes, I did."
"Did you see any?"
"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.
"Gods! You must have been so terrified."
"Not really" he simply responded.
"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.
She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.
Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.
It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.
"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.
"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.
Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.
"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.
"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.
"Goodnight, my prince."
"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.
"Nothing would make me happier."
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So High School (Spencer Reid x Reader)
a/n: It’s me, hi, so I’m kind of back, although I’ve decided to expand my horizons and also write for Doctor Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds; either way, I hope you like this little writing🤭💕
This one shot is inspired by So High School by Taylor Swift from The Tortured Poets Department, which is my current obsession, so if you are swifties, I hope you guys catch the references 🫶🏼
This is season 2 Spencer, cause I just really dig the shy-sweet vibe
This is not proofread, as it’s 2 am, but I couldn't stop
y/n – your name
Warnings: Friends to lovers (kindish), mentions of alcohol
Word count: 2,409
My Masterlist
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Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, but every now, and then you’d have days when all you had pending was paperwork, and you’d catch a break. Like right now, sure, you still had a couple of reports to get through, but overall the mood seemed relaxed, even if you’d been working nonstop for the last 24 hours.
You were typing your reports and sporadically, you’d catch a glance of Spencer Reid’s concentrated face, whose desk was in front of you. Sure, you were work friends, but deep down you knew you had a small crush on the twenty-five-year-old Doctor. Your thoughts were starting to fly away, thinking about Spencer's hair, framing his delicate features, his big eyes, which seemed to move frantically over the computer screen, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was invested into his work, and the way his brows were crunching, making small wrinkles in his forehead; when suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted.
“You know what we should do? We should play kiss, marry, kill” Penelope suggested way too loudly coming into the bullpen with a huge grin and walking frantically to your desk.
“What are you even saying?” exclaimed Emily, standing from her chair and approaching your desk
“We still have to finish our reports” said Spencer, who seemed to be glued ho his computer, taping frenetically
“Did I just hear kiss, marry, kill?” Morgan approached your desk and one by one, the gang was coming all together
“Okay, first round, y/n, kiss, marry, kill with Gideon, Hotch and Rossi?” Penelope asked a little too excited for the question
“Come on, I’m not answering that” you said chuckling at the thought of even giving a response
“Comeeeeeee ooooooon” this time Morgan insisted and the absurdity of the question made you laugh so hard, Spencer looked up from his computer
“Fine, kiss Rossi, marry Hotch and kill Gideon, because he has way too much dad energy to kiss or marry him” you said, and your friends burst out laughing
“We are way too sleep-deprived to be here” Emily said chuckling, “Also, I’m starving”
“I have a frozen pizza at home I just can’t wait to devour” you said and suddenly your friend's eyes seemed to sparkle
“Now that I know that, I’m totally going home with you” Penelope said clinging to your arm
“I’m tagging along as well” Emily added clinging into your other arm
“They say three is a multitude, so I’m coming, just to keep you guys in check” Morgan exclaimed, and you couldn’t wait for Spencer to add himself into your plans, but unfortunately, the young doctor was back into his working frenezzy.
“Como on Spence, we are going home” you said hoping he’d tag along to your improvised plan, even if you were almost certain he’d say no, considering he didn’t really talk to you other than work related business; and rarely info dumped on you, which made you a little sad, considering his info dumps were one of the things that you most liked about him.
“Excuse me?” Spencer said crunching his eyebrows and staring over his screen monitor into your eyes
“We… we are all coming to my house to eat pizza, I was… I was wondering if you’d like to come” you stuttered and felt your cheeks become red. Anytime, you’d try to talk to Spencer about anything other than work, words would trip out of your mouth incomprehensibly, your cheeks would flush in a bright shade of red, and you were pretty sure anyone with a brain knew about your crush, specially considering you’d act like a high schooler in love around him.
“Come on man, we can even trow some poker to sweetener the deal for you” Morgan added
“Also, y/n told me that she has the new Grand Theft Auto, so we could play for a while” Penelope tried convincing Spencer appealing to his love for video games, and if it wasn’t obvious before, well, it was obvious now that you were eager to have the boy-genius at your place
“Alright, let me just grab my bag” Spencer said calmly, almost… oblivious to the fact that your friends were playing smooth wingman and wing-woman
“Penny and I are driving together, and Derek is taking his bike, so Reid, you can drive with y/n” Emily said and for a second, you couldn't believe how shamelessly uncool your friends were being about the whole situation
“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate riding with you” Spencer told you a little… flustered? No way, you were the one fangirling over him, maybe he was just getting secondhand embarrassment for the whole situation and your friend’s pathetic attempts to get you together.
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The ride home was quite nice, Spencer seemed to loosen up when he got the chance to share statistics on pizza consuming habits in the U.S. and somehow, he managed to incorporate the history of pizza:
“So, a precursor of pizza was probably the focaccia, a flatbread known to the Romans as panis focacius, to which toppings were then added. Modern pizza evolved from similar flatbread dishes in Naples, Italy, between the 16th and mid-18th century” Spencer kept explaining, while you took the chance to steal a couple of glances, even if it was a driving hazard “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are bored with my nonstop chatter” the young Doctor added shyly
“No way, I really enjoy your facts and stories” you said, and a shy smile formed into his lips, so you took a leap of faith, hoping with all your heart he wouldn't be uncomfortable with what you were about to say “I love the way your mind works, I find it amazing how you can just know so much, you know?”
“Thank you, it is called an eidetic memory, most people think it’s weird” Spencer said looking down to his hands, that were lying over his lap.
OH MY GO, WAS DOCTOR SPENCER REID BLUSHING? You were trying your best to hide your excitement, and luckily you were saved by the bell, as without realizing it, you were already parking in front of your apartment building
“So this is me, home sweet home” you said turning off the engine of your car and Spencer gave you a side smile that made your stomach flutter
“Thanks for the drive, and you know, for having me” he said, and you were high on his words; everything about him seemed to fascinate you, but before your mind could go wild, Morgan tapped your car window to let you know he was there, and after a couple of minutes, Penelope and Emily were outside as well
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“I’ll put the pizza in the oven, so maybe we can play a round of poker while we wait?” you suggested as your friends took a seat at the table, and you handed them a beer each.
“That’s what I’m talking about” Morgan said, already shuffling the deck of cards. The game was fun, although Spencer won each and every round. The night was everything you could ask for, Spencer seemed comfortable at your apartment, and he even got around to joking and laughing out loud.
“Truth or dare?” Morgan said spinning his empty beer bottle with mischief in his eyes, and laughs started bursting, until it landed on Emily
“Truth” she said glancing at Morgan with amusement
“Have you even come into work tipsy?” Morgan asked
“Alright, yeah, once when we were working with the Newport Police” she replied calmly “Now, have anything stronger?” Emily asked, lifting her beer bottle
“As a matter of fact, I do” you said standing from your chair and bringing different alcohol bottles, you had a wide selection of whiskey, wine, rum, tequila, and vodka
“What are you? A bartender?” Penelope asked, surprised by the alcohol selection.
“I tried, I even got a book, but between life and work I never got around to reading it” you added pouring your friends a couple of drinks.
Emily spun the bottle, and it landed on Spencer, who gulped a little too loudly, and you couldn’t keep your eyes from his Adam’s apple “Truth or dare, boy-genius?” she asked taking you off from your thought
“I… mm… truth?” he said almost too afraid of what your friends could think about asking him
“Alright, what do you think about y/n?” Emily asked bluntly, and you could see Spencer’s cheeks turning red. Sure, you loved your friends, but their mingling was getting way too obvious for your mental health
“I… I think she’s great, I mean, of course she is incredibly smart, she’s sweet, funny, and she has a special way to always makes you feel heard and taking into consideration. It is undeniably that she’s pretty, I mean, and… yeah that's what I think” Spencer said staring into your eyes, and you couldn't believe it, you literally were wonderstruck.
Did he like you? Did he just admit you were pretty? You were literally on cloud nine when you realized Spencer had spun the bottle, and this time it was facing you
“What’s… What’s your favorite movie?” Spencer asked shyly, and all eyes turned to him
“Come on man, that was your shot” Morgan said leaning into Spencer
“That changes, but right now I’d say American Pie” you said trying not to sound too embarrassed. Secrets were spilled, confessions were made, and shots were taken, until Penelope spun the bottle and once more, it landed on Spencer
“Truth or dare, lover-boy?” Penelope asked a little too excited, which once more made Spencer a little nervous, considering the situation, and of course, the fact that he pretty much just admitted having a crush on you
“Dare?” Spencer said, almost asking
“Uuuh I got a great one, read y/n’s bartender book, and then prepare us some fire ass drinks” she said almost euphoric
“Oh, okay, sure, I can do that” Spencer said released a breath he didn't realize he was holding “y/n, would you mind lending me the book? So I can read it, please?” he asked shyly, and you knew this was your chance to make a move
“Of course, although I’m not sure where it is, so… maybe you can help me find it?” you asked hoping he caught the subtext
“Yes, yes I can help you look” he said, and a little grin formed into his lips
“What about playing the Grand Theft Auto whille they go lok for the book?” Morgan asked smootly, giving you just what you needed, a chance to slip to the side with Spencer
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You were now in your room, with the guy that made your stomach flutter, and once again, you coultn shake away the feeling of being a sixteen year old girl approaching her crush for the first time. Okay, so until now you knew there was a chance he actually liked you, so for the first time, you tried to flirt smootly
“So, the book must me somewhere on this wall” you told Spencer pointing at the wall-tall-bookshelf that adorned your room
“That is an impressive collection” Reid said admiring your books
“Thank you, I like… reading, and of course, books” you mumbled and between the nerves of having him in your room, and the fact that he was aproaching you, starring directly at your eyes, your braing wasn’t braining it. This defenetly wasn’t considered smooth, or flirty
“Truth or dare?” Spencer said coming closer to you
“Truth” you responded almost instantly
“Why is American Pie your favorite movie?” he asked, and the question genualy threw you off
“I know most people think it’s a really stupid movie, but even in those crazy scenarios, the guys get to laugh, and learn about life, sure, it’s twisted, and watching to too your can defenetly cause issues, but I think it’s a great piece of cinematography”
“That’s impressive, altough I can’t judge, as I’ve never got arroud to watch it” Spencer said, moving a little, and turning back to your book collection
“Truth or dare, Doctor Reid?” you asked playfully
“Truth” he said chuckling, and once again, you confirmed his little laughs sent a dopamine charge into your brain that was almost adictive
“What’s your favorite thing from my collection?” you asked, moving your hand motioning your bookshelf
“While you have an impressive Aristotle collection, which I’m a big fan of, right now my favorite thing in this room is not exactly a thing, but a person” he said once again leaning into you, “Truth or dare, miss y/n?” he asked coming even closer to your face
“Truth” you asked playing it safe, as he had suddenly turned into Doctor Smooth Reid, and seeing him take charge, was a side of him, one that you were totally enjoying
“What are you thinking about right now?” he said, leaning a little closer to you
“Actually, all I can think about right now is kissing you” you admited, bitting you lower lip, but not giving him time to answer, you asked “Truth or dare?”
“Dare” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from your eyes, to your lips and viceversa
“I dare you to kiss me” you said, and as you finished yout sentence, his hand was cupping your cheeck, his other hand was placed on your waste, and his lips were softly crashing into yours. The kiss was soft, and sweet, with a couple of bites in between. One kiss, then another one, and swiftly, Spencer made you turn, placing your back towards your bookshelf and getting closer to you, just like you, he longed for this moment, for your kiss, for your touch. You were enjoyoing yourselves way too much, when you heard a knock on your door, which made the two of you burst out laughing
“We should go back to them” Spencer said, placing a las kiss into your lips
“Maybe next Saturday you can come over, I mean, you can’t go though life without the rite of passage of watching American Pie” you said chuckling, hoping with all your flustered heard he’s say yes
“That would me wonderful, I can’t keep living like this, without watching American Pie, I mean” he said lacing his fingers with yours, and opening the door for you, so the two of you could go back to your friends, who were also laughing from the living room, as they were sure their mission of getting you together had been succesful.
I really hope you liked it, let me know if you want part 2, as I'm pondering the idea of the American Pie date.
Kay, love you, bye 🩷
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so long, chicago
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Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.
Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.
After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.
You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.
The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.
“Hey.” You said softly.
He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”
“The movers should be here any minute.”
Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.
“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”
“I guess that’s nice.”
“You guess?”
“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”
“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.
“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”
“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”
Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”
You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.
“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.
“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.
“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”
“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”
Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.
“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.
“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”
“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”
“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.
You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.
Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.
“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.
As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.
You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.
It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.
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