#and that is so so endearing to me . i love him so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 2 days

Text

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you.

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough.

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes.

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement.

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment.

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them.

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up.

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you.

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie.

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can.

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks.

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy.

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft.

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly.

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait.

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest.

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back.

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow.

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly.

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.”

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you.

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features.

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table.

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness.

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum.

Spencer doesn’t respond.

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy.

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks.

You do it again.

Another squeak.

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can.

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won.

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding.

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one.

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile.

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you.

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously.

“You’d be surprised.”

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him.

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you.

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago.

But you don’t bring those up.

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth.

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face.

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?”

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently.

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that.

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine

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emocheol · 2 days

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taking pictures

finding out about your boyfriends sweet secret

contains: vernon x gn!reader, fluff, reader eating, established relationship

a/n: mostly based on vn telling sk that he looks at him more than he thinks, loosely based on taking pictures of you by the kooks (i just love that song)

“that’s going in the scrapbook,” vernon says casually, phone in hand as he shakes his head over a photo he just took.

his words snap you out of your one track demolishing-this-plate-of-food mind and you drop your fork with a groan. you try to reach over the table and snatch his phone while simultaneously using your other hand to wipe your mouth to prevent embarrassing yourself any further.

“you better delete that!” you threatened, though vernon didn’t take it as a threat as he continued to laugh and shake his head.

“give the phone to me right now!” you tried to sound intimidating and it only made him laugh even harder.

“babe, you look so good! so in love… with that plate of food,” he teases, clearing his throat as he looks at the picture again, “like damn you’re tearing that shit up,” he continues, knowing how to tease you just the right amount.

“hansol vernon chwe, delete that picture now!” you muster your best ‘i’m upset with you voice’, though you can’t seem to make it too hard hitting since you find it endearing when he laughs so much over something.

he slipped his phone into his back pocket and gave an exaggerated gasp, “my full name? low blow, babe,” he said, feigning disappointment.

“how come you only take embarrassing pictures of me?” you sighed, going back to eating as you knew you wouldn’t be able to snatch his phone now.

“not true, i have a whole album of the prettiest photos of you,” he said casually, as if it was common knowledge.

you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not believing him for a second since you only ever caught him taking, what you thought were, horrible pictures of you.

“show it to me,” you motioned, holding your palm out for his phone.

he shrugged at this and dropped his phone in your hand after he opened his photos and clicked on the album titled ‘mine’.

“don’t delete anything, please,” he said in complete seriousness, those really were his favorite pictures of you.

you nodded in agreement, you wanted to see this alleged album more than anything so you wouldn’t be taking any chances at him snatching the phone back.

you took his phone and saw that the album had over 500 photos of you in it. some posed, some where you’re looking at the camera, some where you’re smiling at the person behind the camera, but most were completely candid.

most pictures in that album you had no knowledge of. you had no idea that he took so many photos, especially photos of you.

“when do you even take these? i never notice you taking photos of me like this,” you said slowly, scrolling through the photos.

“c’mon, babe, i look at you more often than you think. you’re so beautiful i have to take a picture to savor the memory,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t the most romantic thing you’d heard. and he decided to drop that information on you at a random fast food lunch stop.

you looked at him and jutted your lip out, your eyes slowly getting glassy.

“don’t you dare cry on me,” he said quickly, knowing the signs all too well, “there’s nothing to cry about.”

“i won’t,” you sniffled, your lip still quivering.

you both paused for a second before he spoke up again.

“yeah you will,” he stated, a slow nod of acceptance.

“yeah i will,” you echoed with a nod, standing up from your seat and sitting down next to vernon instead of across from him.

you loosely hugged your arms around his midsection while you fought tears. while he had no idea what was going on, he held you with a look of confusion on his face, wondering if the photos really upset you that much.

“it’s just some photos, baby, you want me to delete them? i will if it upsets you.” he said quickly, wanting to do everything he could to make you feel better.

“these are tears of happiness, nonie, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder as you dabbed your few tears with a napkin.

now he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and rubbed your shoulder. “really? i just took some pictures…” he said slowly, trying to understand where you were coming from.

he didn’t get why it was so sweet because it was natural for him. why wouldn’t he take pictures of his favorite person? why wouldn’t he want to cherish your memories together and your beauty?

you knew you couldn’t explain it so you settled on telling him how much you loved him over and over again. that was until he had to grab your, now forgotten, plate of food and make you eat it so you’d stop professing your love to him in the middle of a fast food restaurant.

vernon was a quiet lover, but his quiet love spoke loud volumes.

#seventeen x reader #svt imagine #svt headcanons #svt fic #svt scenario #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen scenario

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maxtermind · 3 days

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Hey 👋

I want you to post a mafia Lando x reader moodboard

😎

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

mafia!lando who never really believed in being 'sappy simp,' as he gracefully likes to put it till he started coming over to barista!reader's cafe.

it was a simple day where he was too frustrated to have coffee at home when he stumbled upon your cafe, then he started frequenting till one day, he finally saw you and it was like the world stopped for a second.

barista!reader who already knew what work lando did for a living and was secretly shaking behind the counter once he walked in with his bodyguard. mafia!lando who failed to notice the flicker of fear in your eyes because he was too busy admiring you.

barista!reader who took too long to take lando seriously, you told him to befriend you and stay clean if he was serious about taking you out when he walked in with a bouquet and a charming smile on his face and he simply had no choice but to oblige.

mafia!lando who would change routines and come to your cafe every time he was free, even if he only had twenty minutes free. " just couldn't wait to see my pretty girl." he would drop you off and pick you up in the evening. you guys were already living together as far as he was concerned.

mafia!lando who would be the first to apologise after arguments because he was just so scared of losing you. barista!reader who didn't like that and confronted him about it. "baby, I don't care who apologises first as long as I go to bed with you in my arms."

mafia!lando who only four months in is already obsessed with the reader and despite your reassurance makes sure he knows where you are at all times. he would have a guard posted outside your cafe and despite your prior reservation, you wouldn't lie that having someone there helped you calm down.

mafia!lando who would help you the day you are understaffed because both of your coworkers got viral. barista!reader who would focus more on his tattooed arms under folded sleeves as he helped her out order after order. barista!reader who would realise it at that moment that this was love. you were in love.

mafia!lando who never really got the appeal of slow, tender and endearing sex till he had it with you. "feel like you were made for me," he would gasp softly against your lips. "tailor made for me, y/n."

barista!reader who would have never cared of the stares you would get when your scary mafia would lean over the counter to kiss you. barista!reader who buys an initial necklace for mafia!lando who in return would never take it down. the necklace would be losing color but he wouldn't ever take it off,"it's how people will know I'm yours baby." and you would feel so in love that all there's left to do is kiss him and show him just how much you are his too.

( masterlist \ drop a request ) a/n :: i loved this request so much!! need more drabble, headcanon, moodboard requests lol ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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awakenedevildays · 3 days

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「bleachers and interruptions」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

You can find the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"For how long are you planning to stare at her, Donaldson?" Tashi approaches Art while he is busy looking at you in the stands, a book in your hand as you wait "for Tashi" to finish her training.

"w-what?" he detaches his eyes from you and your friend wants to laugh at the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face, a clean tennis shirt in his hands waiting to be worn.

Tashi stands in front of him, the smirk on her face growing wider by the second, her hands on her hips "Donaldson, I can smell your desperation from miles away" he avoids her gaze and turns around to take off his shirt and put it in his tennis bag along his racket, but Tashi stands in front of him again "she told me about what happened at the beach" she adds and smirks, Art stops in his tracks at that 'fuck, she knows' he takes advantage of slipping on his unstained t-shirt to hide his red cheeks from your best friend.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about you and Patrick, Tash?" his eyes look down to fix his shirt that looks so ruffled to him right now, "don't worry about me and Patrick, but I have to worry about you two idiots for obvious reasons" Art looks at her confused and waits for her to explain.

Tashi moves her hand up to pat his shoulder, her smirk fading away and giving way to a small smile.

"She's a wonderful person you know? She deserves all the love in the world and I know you've got plenty to give... so don't keep her on the hook for too long" she takes her bag.

"What do you mean?" He frowns, keeping you on the hook? he tought you had changed your mind, considering you didn't approach him not even once after the night at the beach.

Tashi takes one glance at you, and then back to the blond in front of her.

"She's waiting for you to make a move, Art. She's really shy and not really good at these kind of things..." Tashi's gaze flickers at you again... "If she wasn't interested you think she would have come to watch you almost every training day?".

He wants to laugh at that, 'she didn't look shy at the beach' he thinks but doesn't say it out loud "she comes here for me? I thought she's here to see you!" he exclaims.

Tashi can't stop the smile forming on her lips at his outburst, the disbelief in his voice clear as day.

"You can't be that naive, can you?" Tashi teases, her tone lighthearted now, having gone from teasing to trying to comfort him. "Sure, some days she might come here for me, but it's mostly for you, I can assure you, I'm just an added bonus" Tashi concludes and Art feels so stupid, he should've at least tried to talk to you.

"oh..."

Tashi sees his expression change slightly, realization beginning to dawn on him, so she rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder, smiling at him knowingly "don't beat yourself up too much about it, Art. It's never too late to fix your mistake. Believe me, she's really into you... but Art, there are few people I care about more than I care about tennis, and Y/N is one of them, if you hurt her in any way-" Tashi pushes her index finger into his chest, her grin growing devious once again, "-I'll castrate you, then you definitely won't be able to charm her anymore with only your stupid blond curls, understood?" "yes m'am." he answers immediately.

Tashi laughs, finding his quick response both amusing and endearing, her hand moving to ruffle his blond hair. "That's more like it, Donaldson. Keep her safe and you won't have too worry about keeping your body intact. I'm sure you're more than capable of that"

Tashi goes to the changing rooms and Art turns around towards you again, only to see you already looking at him and he smiles widely, now that he knows you didn't change your mind about him, and that's surprising considering the story he told you, he feels like he can actually talk to you without blushing like the teenager he still is.

You blush slightly as he looks at you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your heart skips a beat when he flashes that winning smile of his. How he was able to be both endearing and incredibly handsome at the same time was beyond you, but the sight of his bright blue eyes and the way his blonde hair was swept to the side from the light wind was enough to make your breath hitch.

His hand goes up in greeting and you wave back, book now closed and he sign for you to stay there as he walks out of the tennis camp, his steps fast almost in a run and you laugh 'he is so cute' you think. A few minutes later he is next to you on the bleachers.

As he approaches, you can't help but look carefully at his face, a bead of sweat running down his temple form the training he just finished, you curse internally as you feel yourself growing a bit hotter when his arm flexes to let his tennis bag fall on the ground next to him.

Art sits down next to you, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning to you, a cheeky grin on his face.

"hey"

"hi..."

You both giggle for realizing how awkward this moment is.

Art runs his hand through his hair, trying to tame the damp strands and make himself look at least a little bit presentable. "Sorry for this" he pauses for a moment, a smirk coming to his lips, "although I think you kinda like it" you laugh 'fuck, he noticed'.

"Oh shut up, I didn't come here for you" you lie, your cheeks slightly red in fear of being caught "oh, really? a little bird told me otherwise..." he suggests and you would really like the ground to open and swallow you, you bite your lips "I'm going to kill her" you mumble under your breath and Art laughs as he sits down next to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He gazes intently at you, a slight smirk on his lips, "please don't, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her" you frown at his words and seeing your confused expression he keeps going.

"I thought you weren't interested in me anymore, after that night" his smile is sheepish, "the next day, when you and Tashi came to watch the final between me and Patrick you didn't talk to me at all and... I don't know, I felt like I fucked up" his hand goes through his hair, a bit embarrassed to reveal his insecurities to you so soon and you want to slap yourself "Art... no you got it all wrong".

Art blinks in confusion for a moment, his expression changing into a mixture of surprise and relief "so you weren't avoiding me?" he asks, turning his head to peer closely into your eyes, searching for any sign to confirm his words.

"No! well, yes... but it's not cause I wasn't interested in you, the total opposite actually, I'm really bad at these things I didn't know what to do or say" you admit and play around with the cover of the book still on your lap.

Art couldn't help but laugh a little bit at your confession, "If it's any consolation, I think you're doing just fine right now."

He pauses for a moment, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his blue eyes shining with warmth.

"You could've just told me then, you know?" and he could have done that too.

"I know... I'm sorry" you whine hiding your face in your hands and he rests his left hand on the back of your chair, his body facing you while he waits for you to look at him again "don't be, I could have tried harder too" he comforts you and you look at him again, a sweet smile on his face.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling the tension start to dissipate between you "guess we both messed up then" you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the realization of just how much time you wasted because of your mutual shyness.

"But we stil have time to solve this, if you want to, of course" you're nodding even before he can finish the sentence.

Art can't contain his excitement as he sees you enthusiastically nodding your head. He lifts his hand and rests his palm on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin "I take that as a yes, then?" he asks, a playful smile on his lips, the thumb on your cheek now tracing the outline of your lips.

"mh-mh" you say unconsciously your eyes locked in his.

Art continues tracing his thumb across your lips, his touch light and almost teasing, feeling your gaze on him, he lifts his eyes to look into yours, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You look so cute when you're all blushing and flustered" he whispers, leaning a bit closer to your face.

"You talk like you're not in the same position as I am" Art laughs softly, his breath mingling with yours, he leans in closer, the smile on his lips widening as he sees you start to fidget slightly.

"Not like it's a bad thing though, right?" he whispers, his hand moving from your cheek to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head up slightly.

"absolutely not" you whisper and just when your lips are about to touch a voice interrupts the moment "Hey! the camps are closing you have to get out" the coach calls out with a small smirk and Art turns around to look at him embarrassed, ears and cheeks red "sorry coach! we're leaving".

The coach gives a knowing chuckle before heading out again, leaving you and Art to recover from the interruption.

You can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at the coach's interruption, ok, that was embarrassing you put your book back into your bag before sliding it on your shoulder.

Art lets out a small sigh before reluctantly getting up from the bench helping you too by grabbing your hand "sorry about that, the coach has the worst timing" he wants to strangle him, really.

"Don't worry, he is right" you say and he starts to guide you towards the stairs to get out.

Art feels his muscles relax as soon as the cool night breeze hits his skin, he's still hot and sweaty from the training, he glances at you "that was a good session, wasn't it? even with the interruption" he jokes as he looks around, noticing the sun slowly setting behind the trees, lighting the sky in a beautiful shade of pink and orange.

"you did good, I really like to watch you ad Tashi play" you ignore his real intentions and decide to talk about the training itself, you really like to tease him.

Art can't help but let out a small laugh at your response "so that is the only reason why you come to see our trainings? To watch me play?" he quips, his tone light and teasing as he nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

"I already told you Donaldson, I come to see Tashi play, not for you" you taunt again and Art shakes his head in false disbelief, his tone still playful and light "right, how could I forget. Just for Tashi, of course".

He playfully rolls his eyes, his shoulder slightly touching yours as you walk next to him.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you can't compete with her" and Art stops on his track a fake shocked expression on his face and you tug on his hand still connected to yours to walk through the campus and towards the dorms.

Art puts a hand over his heart and lets out a mock gasp. "How could you" he says before starting to follow you again, a cheeky smile on his lips as he glances in your direction.

As you both make your way towards the dorms, Art can't help but feel contentment at the sight of your hands connected together, swinging naturally alongside you while you walk. You two stay in comfortable silence until you are in front of your dorm room and your hand detaches from his to grab your key, Art stands behind you, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for you to turn back to him.

You unlock the door, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you turn to face him again. Art is still standing close, his eyes fixed on you with a warm smile on his handsome features, he takes a step closer, now leaning against the wall next to your door.

The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle glow on him, his blond hair slightly disheveled and he looks so incredibly handsome that you find your breath hitching in your throat

'what should I do now?' you ask yourself as you smile at him, but before you could open your mouth to speak, he does first "not that I don't like to meet you like this, but what would you think about a date? with me, of course" he mentally facepalms himself, 'was it really necessary to add that?' Art feels a faint blush color his cheeks as you laugh at his awkward addition.

He rubs the back of his neck, still smiling sheepishly "sorry, I just wanted to be clear about it, didn't want you to think I was planning a date between you and Tashi" he jokes as he lets out a small laugh of his own, the embarrassment fading away as he sees that you don't seem to mind his blunder.

"But yes, I would love to take you on a date" he says with a more confident tone, his eyes shimmering with excitement at the thought.

"I would love to" Art is filled with contentment as he sees your excitement. He runs his hand through his hair a small smile forms on his lips as he gazes at you, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

"How about tomorrow night? There's this nice restaurant near that I've been wanting to try" he suggests, his voice filled with nerves but anticipation as well.

"Tomorrow is great" you step closer when you see Art bending towards you "good, I'll pick you up tomorrow night at seven" you nod.

As you confirm the time for your date, he can't help but smile wider, the excitement coursing through his veins, he gazes into your eyes for a moment, savoring the anticipation building between you.

"I can't wait" he whispers, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of nerves, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on your forehead "I'll see you tomorrow" "goodnight, Art".

As you watch Art, his handsome features bathed in the soft light of the hallway, he smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Goodnight" he says softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he sees you close the door slower than necessary, as if you don't want the moment to end just yet.

"Sweet dreams" he whispers after you close the door, shoulders lighter now that he finally has a real chance with you and the smile on his face doesn't leave until he is asleep in his bed.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers

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winwintea · 3 days

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secure that card! 28. burnt cookies

Chenle wanted you to start on something simple, like cookies. Baking wasn’t hard, you couldn’t set the kitchen on fire unless you forgot about the cookies, and he would be there to make sure that wasn’t going to happen.

Or so he thought.

“You can eat the dough right?” You asked him carefully scooping a bit of the dough up with your finger.

“Yes, but did you wash your hands?” Chenle carefully eyed your finger as it slowly made contact with your mouth.

“Of course I did!” You beam at him, and he can’t help but crack a smile. “Wait… this is so good… try some…”

He watches you as you once again dip your fingers into the leftover batch of dough, scooping up more from the bowl, and walked over to you in one swift motion. “What are y-?” He had little time to react however, before you promptly shoved the cookie dough into his mouth.

“Tastes sweet right?” You asked him, clearly unfazed.

Chenle’s cheeks were practically flushing red, “A little warning next time?”

The corners of your mouth lifted up with a smirk, “What? You’re perfectly fine with whatever we did last week, but you can’t handle a bit of this?”

“It’s not… Stop that…” He stammered out, unable to respond.

“Relax. I love teasing you. It’s so easy, you know that right?”

Although he was normally the one bullying his friends, it seems as he had flipped his switch when it came to you. (Recently though, it’d seemed as though he was the one being subject to jokes ever since you were introduced to the table) “Yeah… I guess… Alright…”

Chenle couldn’t practically believe that you two had gone from strangers to lovers in practically a couple of weeks, nor did he imagine you would ever reciprocate these feelings back. It seemed as if there had been many events in between that drew you two closer together. Call it fate, call it bad luck, but good things had certainly followed. Not that he didn’t feel guilty at least, knowing he had been the cause for probably half of your misery these few days.

“Thanks for taking my mind off of things, certainly been having a rough couple of weeks…” You gave him an endearing smile, once again eating another spoonful of cookie dough.

“Did you want to continue to be distracted, or talk about it?” Ever since you had arrived at his house, you two had not mentioned a single word about Haechan and his most recent relapse. Chenle had decided to give you time and space to talk about it when you wanted to, and instead allowed you to focus on the task of baking the cookies first. Now that the cookies were in the oven you two had a few minutes to spare while waiting for them to finish.

You thought to yourself for a couple of moments, before turning to look at him with a determined look on your face, “It’s okay, we can talk about it.”

Taking a seat, Chenle eagerly waited to hear what you had to say about the situation. He couldn’t help but feel curious as to what exactly happened.

“So almost 2 years ago, it was just me, Jaem, Yuqi, and Haechan.” You began, “And it was sort of awkward for me, since I’m younger than them. Yuqi’s the oldest so she kind of takes on a motherly figure sometimes towards us, and Jaem and Haechan are in the same grade.”

Chenle hadn’t expected you to launch into your friend group’s history, but was interested regardless.

You continued on, “But Haechan always somehow made us feel? Connected? He always bridged that gap between our ages. Probably since he acts so immature half the time, but it was so nice. Regardless, we actually used to go out partying all the time, Haechan and Yuqi especially. As you can see, we don’t really anymore.”

“Is that why you had an aversion to attending dejun’s party a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, it mostly stems from the past issues. You see, Haechan got hooked on LSD at this time. At first, we didn’t think much on it. He casually used it, and it wasn’t very often, so we kind of just tolerated it?” Chenle nodded attentively as you carried on, “But eventually it got bad, like… really bad… I…”

He latched onto your hand, gripping it softly with his own palm, and looked to you for support. Chenle didn’t say it out loud, but his eyes seemed to say that you didn’t have to continue if you wanted to.

Determined to finish, you smiled at him and returned to your story, “He would go through… many episodes. It was the worst. Sometimes it would be fine, and he could be clean for, a couple of weeks, and sometimes… he’d go back to that shitty state once again. He’d go in and out of rehab multiple times… and his mother… We really liked his mom and she liked us, but she just… practically gave up on him. It was so… heartbreaking… Like how could you, ever just? I don’t know. I don’t understand? Your son?”

You had tears in your eyes at this point, and Chenle couldn’t bare it any longer, as he grabbed you and embraced you into a hug, his fingers stroking your hair slowly. “It’s okay… He got better right? Didn’t he?”

“He did… and we all helped him, Jaem especially. He helped him get into rehab, and stood by him most of the time. Really it was all in thanks to Jaemin that Haechan was able to get better. And he’s been clean for about a year and a half.” You stared deeply into his eyes, “And that’s why we rarely attend parties anymore.”

“And now? What happened now?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I just found out that the supplier of the drugs was Ten.” He raised an eyebrow, but you hurriedly finished, “But before you jump to any conclusions, we confirmed that Ten had no clue he was selling Haechan any drugs. I need to ask Haechan myself, though.” You sighed, leaning more into his embrace, as he continued to play with your hair.

“Well I think you’re honestly really brave, Y/n.”

“Me? Brave? How so?”

“Well you’ve dealt with so much shit recently. With getting run over, to being stalked, to dealing with one of your closest friends relapsing, you’ve been through a lot. Honestly it’s so admirable, how much you’ve been able to deal with and still stay strong. I love you for that actually.” This time your face was flushing, instead of the other way around. And it didn’t help that Chenle had started placing small butterfly kisses on your forehead, but you were perfectly content with that anyways.

However you two were suddenly startled by a loud beep from the kitchen.

“Shit.”

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ zhong chenle is the owner of many cards. a black card? he owns that. he even has a stanford student id card. the one card he doesn’t own though? a green card. and if chenle plays his cards right, he just may be able to secure one by wooing you. or it could all fall through… who knows?

TAG LIST ▸ @marvelahsobx @lyvhie @odxrilove @jkslvsnella @aquaphoenixz @wonnieluv @acidwon @syatchy @sleepyvic @grassbutneo @chcnlcs @taeeflwrr @hibernatinghamster @jaeimjaemin @gukuwii @slayhaechan @yyangj3lly @seunghancore @clean-soap @bath1lda @lostinneocity @defzcl @ckline35 @multifandomania @meltinghershey @foxy-kitsune @jising-jisang-jisung @minkyuncutie @zuzu-the-simp @dojaejunging @leehanascent @nosungluv @sunflowerbebe07 @h-aecat @layuhsblog @fae-renjun @w3bqrl @hyuckies18 @wonbin-truther

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 days

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≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with plot), porn with feelings, past relationship trauma (see: toxic relationship, slight implications of mental and physical abuse), reader with insecurities (self-worth, relationship), angst ish?, hurt/comfort, kissing and making out, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, soft sex, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of nicknames "pretty" "princess" "milady/my lady", lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited))

wc : 5k+

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @thoupenguinman (sign up here!!)

an : a lot softer and less... explicit? than the rest of my works i have on here?? but happy june guys, have my compensation for not including jem in the youtiful lineup <3

Thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end; but on a Wednesday, in a café—you watched it begin again.

The walk home was always tedious.

You passed this way every night; it was always quiet. Nothing but the click clack of your heels against the pavement would echo, the streets devoid of life as they usually were, especially at this hour. It didn’t bother you. It never did. Even the rhythmic buzz of the lamplights were familiar to you, little lulls of comfort that were always welcome.

It was lonely, usually.

You were used to it that way.

But it was different tonight.

You leaned against the warmth to your side, his arm on your waist drawing you close. He chuckled, almost as if he found your more obvious display of affection a little endearing, and then he responded in kind—a soft, barely-there kiss over the top of your head, just enough to remind you fully of his presence.

“Still a little far?” came his voice. And the soft shake of your head caught another whiff of his cologne, that grounding, earthy scent mixing well with the smell of flowers you’d come to associate him with.

It made you smile.

“Just a couple of blocks ahead. But… thanks for, you know. Going out of your way to walk me home, and all. You really didn’t have to…”

You didn’t look at him, but you could almost hear the raise of his eyebrow as he spoke; “What? Of course I’d walk you home! Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me not to make sure my date gets home safely, right!?”

He sounded bewildered that you would even ask such a thing, and you laughed. A genuine laugh. One that you hadn’t had in quite some time.

“I know, I know. I’m just used to this route, that’s all. I come home at this hour on most days, so it’s nothing new to me…”

“Hey, hey. Come on. I wouldn’t leave a pretty girl like you all alone, especially not after we’ve just had dinner. Cut me some slack, won’t you? Let me spoil you a little bit, maybe I just… want this date to last a little longer.”

His voice seemed to soften the more he spoke, and as your steps slowed down—almost as if in response to him—he turned to look at you.

“Everything okay?”

That his first instinct was concern for your wellbeing made you blink in surprise.

“Huh?” you hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slowed down, the sting against your heel much more obvious now than it had been at the start of your date. You didn’t mean, either, for your gaze to shift down, maybe testing a couple of your steps—

“Oh… Is it your heels? Do your feet hurt?”

Jeremiah was observant.

His voice came out a lot gentler than it had been, and he immediately pulled you over to the side. “Not much further, right? I can carry you, if you want. That way you wouldn’t have to trouble yourself too much…”

There was something like a sense of hesitation that passed in your eyes. Perhaps, you hadn’t noticed it yourself—not until you turned your head away from him, gaze drifting a little off to the side.

A beat, and then; “...Okay,” you sighed, giving in. “But, I…”

He crouched down, barely giving you much time to react, helping you over his back. He was much warmer like this. Much closer to you. And you wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to revel a little more in the moment. The floral scent was much stronger, too, up close, the way you were. Reminiscent of how long he’d work in the shop for a day; of how much time spent around the plants he cared for so tenderly. You recalled how he mentioned he could never get the scents out from him completely, but you liked it.

It was comforting.

You buried your face into his hair for a moment as he walked.

“...Sorry,” you mumbled out next. Your chin rest against his head, looking out into the lamplit path before you. “I don’t mean to trouble you. I won’t wear heels next time…”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

He glanced back, turning his head slightly, just enough to make brief eye-contact. “There’s nothing wrong with heels. Must’ve been tiring for you to walk in them this whole evening, so I get it. I don’t mind helping out a bit, you know? Besides…”

He paused, and you caught a glimpse of a smile.

“You look really pretty in them.”

Simple words that made your heart flutter.

Perhaps, words that you’d never heard directed to you yourself, not in this context.

And that was the first time—probably, the first in the longest while—that you’d ever felt so… loved.

And then there would be several more instances after that.

Simple things, too. Like the time he listened to your favorite song with you; new, and unfamiliar to him, but taken without judgement. Accepted with a cheerful smile.

You remembered that day.

The little speaker had been sounding out some music as the two of you moved around the kitchen. Flour in your hair, flour on his apron, hands busy molding the dough into those perfectly round shapes that gave you joy… A little hum, here and there, the casual bob of the head to the beat. In a lighthearted atmosphere, you simply enjoyed being in his presence. The love that both of you had for baking became a comfort in your relationship, any moment spent next to him that way was enough to chase most of your worries away.

But a shared playlist between the both of you also meant that there would be a couple of tracks tailored each to your own tastes—

Yours, you knew, were not always so… well-received.

“Oh? What’s this song?”

His ears had perked up at the very start of the tune, hands pausing if only to be able to get a closer listen.

It was reminiscent, almost; the image of it familiar. Because these were songs that they wouldn’t get. Songs you’d be forced to change; songs you’d be told to listen to alone—sometimes, oftentimes, you had to cater to the tastes of others. You’d taken a risk by putting the song on the playlist at all.

He could listen, and then…

“O-oh, that’s just… Um, you know. One of the songs from my side of the playlist…”

You’d laughed a little awkwardly, pausing, too, in your movements, only to dust off your hands and reach for your phone. “We could find something else!” was your immediate reaction, scrolling through the playlist, easily prepared to switch if need be.

And his reply would’ve been one to stick with you for quite some time.

“I don’t mind, you know,” his voice had softened, as if having noticed your shift in demeanor. For a moment it didn’t matter that the both of you were covered in all the mess that your baking session had caused, and he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I think it’s a pretty cool song! I’ve… heard that sometimes the things people listen to say a lot about themselves. And I want to know more about you. So I’d listen to any kind of music that you would, too, princess.”

It was the first time he’d used the nickname with you.

You’d retaliated with a flick of leftover flour into his hair, but you smiled.

Typical Jeremiah.

The swirl of doubts that had settled into the pit of your stomach seemed less daunting—

And he would do it again.

He made sure that he would.

You’d never talked about it, not really—it wasn’t a topic you were ready to open just yet, but Jeremiah was patient.

He would love you, anyway.

Legs tangled with yours on the couch, hands running softly through your hair… He’d let you talk with him. You wouldn’t get reprimanded for speaking, even despite the movie playing on the TV, even despite whatever it was he’d be working on. The walls were less dividing, you felt a little bit more like… yourself.

You hadn’t, in a while.

And that night, he told you he loved you.

For the first time, as you drifted off to sleep, his lips against your forehead, soft murmurs of adoration into your hair… he told you he loved you.

And maybe it didn’t matter anymore, what happened in your past.

He made you want to believe again.

That this could work.

That this was worth it.

That he was worth it.

It was all you had thought about for several days; the what ifs.

The way you could crash and burn at the prospect of another cycle repeating—of letting your guard down, of letting him in, of all the uncertainties that came with diving in headfirst when you so desperately wanted to trust in him, only to fear what felt like an inevitable end. All fragrant perfumes as petals unfurl one by one, a sea of beautiful pinks and reds enough to blind you into their allure and have you bleed—you had always felt this way. Every rose had their thorns; and you’d just never learned to love… without them.

Never learned to love without the lies.

Never known how much to take before you realized enough was enough; never known how far to let them sink, how many cuts and scrapes and bruises you had to endure.

But Jeremiah made you want to believe.

That maybe this rose had thorns that wouldn’t be so skin deep. Maybe this rose was worth it; maybe this rose could be sweeter, a bed of roses, torture redistributed, something… different.

Jeremiah felt different.

You wanted to believe it.

You felt that you believed it.

And perhaps, that was why you wanted desperately not to mess things up.

The phone call was the last thing you remembered. His voice had been cheerful, particularly upbeat, no doubt looking forward to coming over once he was free—you checked the time, then, you remembered. He would have been over in a little more than an hour.

You’d fallen asleep.

The idea was to cook dinner; the idea was to be a little fancy—for all that he had been spoiling you, you only figured that you could return the favor as best as you could.

Clearly, things worked out much… differently. If you could still call it working out at all.

You woke up to a gentle shake of your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your forehead. His voice was soft in your ear when he spoke this time; “Hey, princess. You nap okay?”

Your eyes widened.

Your phone, clutched in your hand, held close to your chest, had been turned off—likely due to the fact that you’d forgotten to charge it, again.

“J-Jeremiah?” You were still a little groggy as you sat up to face him, barely registering the little smile on his face. In the moment, you couldn’t quite tell if he was trying to tease you; instead—the panic set in.

If he was here, and if he’d taken to waking you, that only meant that you weren’t able to prepare dinner at all.

And you knew that Jeremiah would most likely let it slide, you knew in your heart that he wasn’t upset.

But, perhaps, your natural response remained rooted in patterns of the past.

It was quick, almost—the way flashes of red seemed to cloud your mind for a moment as you jumped up, nearly bumping into him in the process, not at all processing the look of surprise that had formed on his face.

“Milady?” He’d called out tentatively.

“I— god, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I know you’re coming home from a really long day, and we promised we’d have this dinner, and—shit— I-I’ll get something ready! Just give me a few moments, I promise I’ll—”

Rambling.

A habit you had developed very, very early on, and a habit you knew often lead to your own demise.

Jeremiah reached out as if to steady you, his brows knitted together in concern, his hand poised—

And you winced.

The physical recoil was nearly instantaneous.

You took a step back, shoulders tensed, face turned slightly to the side, almost as if bracing for something you knew would have been familiar to you.

“Princess, hey…”

It didn’t come.

Instead, Jeremiah inched closer, taking your hands into his, giving them a little squeeze.

“It’s alright,” he gave you a little nod, voice slow and gentle. It was enough encouragement to coax you to look back at him—and the love in his gaze made you draw in a breath.

“‘Miah,” you choked out, and you felt tears sting at your eyes.

“It’s okay, princess, look at me. You good? I’m not upset with you, you must’ve been tired, too… I feel a lot better knowing you got some rest, so don’t worry about dinner. We can just order something from outside.”

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe him—almost.

But you knew that look in his eyes. They were sweet, and tender, and loving. Caring—adoring. So much so that it was overwhelming, almost. The honesty, the sincerity in his words… Knowing you were unable to fulfil something you promised him, yet still choosing to prioritize you out of it. How you felt. How you rested, despite being undoubtedly tired himself.

You couldn’t help it, then. You fell forward into his arms, burying your face into your hands, trying not to look at him as the tears flowed down your cheeks. Your sobs remained choked back, as if refusing to let them free, and he rubbed comforting circles into your back.

You could feel his confusion, undoubtedly.

“C’mon, princess, talk to me. What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”

A shake of your head.

“But I gotta hear it from you, pretty… Hey, I’m not upset, you know that, right?”

This time a nod of your head, and your hands moved to wrap around his waist.

“I know, I just… M’sorry, ‘Miah…. I know you don’t want to see me like this, I just—it’s all so overwhelming, I—I’m sorry, I’ll fix this, I’ll fix me, I’ll—”

“Shhh, shhh. Shhh. Shhhh.” He tucked your head under his chin, the warmth of his embrace tightening its hold on you. A little shift, and he tugged you back onto the couch with him, resting in his arms, thumb reaching over to wipe away your tears. “You don’t need to do anything now, princess. You don’t have to fix everything from the start, sometimes it’ll just… Take some time. S’alright to cry with me, I don’t mind. You’re still pretty when you cry. It won’t make me love you any less.”

You listened, sniffling, arms wrapped around his chest.

“You can be vulnerable with me if you want to,” he continued; repeated. “You can cry all you need to, too. I’ll always love you, milady.”

And you didn’t protest.

Not as he tilted your chin back up to look at him, leaning in to place another kiss on your forehead—”I love you like this,” he whispered.

The space between your eyebrows; “I love you like this.”

Then on your cheeks—the tips of your ears—the tip of your nose.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

A promised whisper with every little peck, the graze of his lips against your skin so gentle that you could melt.

“I love you,” another whisper, before his lips were on yours. Supple, and soft, and your eyes closed to relish the moment.

“I love you,” you mumbled back.

And his lips were back on yours as your back hit the couch, fingers threading through your hair, resting over the side of your face only to cup your cheek and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. His other hand lay on your waist, gentle, rhythmic strokes over your clothed skin, moving in time with the way his lips seemed to dance with yours. It was quick, how things began to escalate. But you didn't protest. You fell into it, the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, the heat radiating off of your bodies, flushed together, leaving the air heedy with want. Time seemed to slow to a stop in that moment, and your lips parted just enough to let his tongue delve into you.

He did it first; a soft “Mmh…” against your lips, reverberating in his chest and leaving you with tingles all over your body. Each time he pulled back you would gasp, only to have him back against your lips, as if neither of you could stop—and neither of you wanted to stop. Within seconds, the sounds of hushed moans and slick, sloppy kisses seemed to bounce around the living room.

His hands began to play coy, sliding beneath your shirt, the direct skin-to-skin contact making you jolt. He'd leave goosebumps in the wake of his touch, hands trailing up the side of your waist…

It was intoxicating.

Your eyelids felt heavy, and you felt the way you would lift your head, chasing the warmth of his lips when he pulled back, despite the way your chest heaved as you panted for air.

“‘Miah…” you spoke first; a little tug on his sleeve. It was the only way you could ask for more, what with the way you were desperately trying to catch your breath.

He smiled, as if he knew.

Of course he knew.

“Pretty princess,” he mumbled, leaning in to place a kiss against the corner of your lips, just barely missing your own—teasing. “I love you.”

He said it again.

Your heart fluttered.

“I love you, and…”

You could feel his breath on your skin, hot, and heavy, and laced with threads of desire you both knew had stirring within you.

It was as if he couldn't resist, barely getting his sentence out—not even at all completing it—before his gaze dropped to your lips, and there you were again: crashing.

It was his hands that seemed to do the talking for you, sliding further up your body, his touches more intentional. The fabric of your shirt rode up more and more, and then it was you who was doing it for him: pushing his hands up against your breasts, allowing your shirt to bunch up over the top of your cleavage, moaning into the kiss at the intimate contact.

“Milady…” he would groan against you, pressing his body into you, letting you feel the extent of his own desires. “God, I… I love you.”

He pulled back slightly, panting over your lips. His hands moved to undo the clasp of your bra, and then they were back—”Can I show you how much I do?” he whispered.

“But, you… You haven't—we should have dinner…”

“It can wait. You're more important. Please, princess?”

And you knew you could never refuse.

Within seconds he had you pressed up against the couch, kisses as heated as they were, hands kneading into your flesh. His thumb grazed over your nipple, so pert and standing to attention—you could feel the way your chest arched into him in response.

Your moan came out louder than you expected when he pulled back, lips glossy and swollen from how much you'd been kissing. He rest on his heels to watch you writhe—his fingers twisted and pulled at your nipples, massaging into your breasts… Your eyes closed if only to avoid the head of his gaze, but you could feel it—the way he observed you, the way his eyes roamed over your body, the way it would twist and arch into his ministrations.

“So damn pretty,” he whispered.

And then you felt a jolt through your body when a hand traveled down, dipping beneath the waistband of your lower garments—and that was when your eyes opened.

A soft gasp fell from your lips.

His eyes were careful on yours, his face just as flushed, his hair much more of a mess than you remembered it had been before you'd even started—whatever this was.

“May I?” You could melt at the slight widening of his eyes into a pleading gaze, his hands rubbing against your hip. “I want to feel you here. I want to love you there, too.”

There was a moment of pause between you both, then.

You took a while to catch your breath, before you were lifting your hips, allowing him to pull down your garments, and he smiled.

“That's my girl.”

You had to close your eyes, the back of your hand moving over your mouth as you waited. It was slow, the way he undressed you. It was as if your body had his gaze completely enraptured, his movements agonizing, his eyes locked onto the trail of slick that snaps as he pulled off your underwear. Your cunt was flush and needy for attention, clit throbbing, wetness leaking onto the couch—you nearly had to close your legs when you saw the smirk that formed on his lips, but he was quicker. His hands moved to spread you apart and keep you in place, and then you were sitting up against the couch, legs hooked over his shoulders.

And he'd reached up to take your hands in his. Your fingers laced through together, a reassuring, loving squeeze—and there it was.

The first lick had you clenching your jaw, drawing in a sharp breath. One long stripe from your hole up to your clit, and your body jolted; his hands gave yours another squeeze.

“Shh, shh, relax, princess,” he mumbled—you nearly shut your eyes at the way he looked, your juices coating his tongue, the way he licked his lips as if to prove a point. “Look at me, pretty, okay? Breathe for me.”

His tongue darted out again, the contact against your folds having you gripping his hand tightly.

“Sh-shit—” you cursed, his tongue swirling a circle over your clit, slowly, slowly.

He would tease, still: dragging his tongue in a slow, light pattern, never quite touching your nub, only barely dipping into your hole. His eyes raised to look at you—you could tell he was enjoying himself, and you couldn't help but let out a whimper.

“S'it feel good?” he mumbled, the vibrations against you sending tingles up your spine. “You like that, pretty?”

“R-really good, ‘Miah, please—”

He smiled, placing soft kisses around your clit before finally, finally taking it into your mouth.

You gasped, your back arching, nails digging into his palms, his thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. You felt his praise in his movements, the way he sucked on your clit, the way he'd roll his tongue over you, between your folds, taking in every inch of your wetness that he possibly could… He let go of your hands, then, grabbing hold of your thighs, pulling you towards him. Your toes curled, his tongue prodding your entrance—

And then it slipped in.

“'M-’Miah!” you cried out, throwing your head back with the shiver of pleasure that coursed through your veins. “Pl-plea— please, nnh—”

You could bite your lip to maintain a volume less embarrassing for the both of you, but he was unrelenting. His hands gripped at the plush of your thigh before they snaked inwards, thumb attaching to your clit. His tongue swirled inside of you, and every roll of his thumb brought on a jolt of your hips—Cries of his name fell from your mouth; a chant, nearly beyond your control, the way your body would writhe and buck from his ministrations.

“M-Mmh!” you moaned; “J- Jeremiah! ‘Miah, ‘Miah—don't stop, pleas—right th-there, don't—nnh—!”

You felt the corners of his mouth twitch up unto a smile, and that was it for you.

Your muscles clenched, your thighs tensing around his head, hips lifting, mouth falling open in a silent moan.

He'd smile as you cum, lapping up your juices, each languid lick encouraging the twitch of you pussy, riding out your high.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

He let you go only to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. You could blush at the mere sight of him—lips red and swollen, slick dribbling down his chin, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips, taking in remnants of your juices.

“Jeremiah, you…”

You covered your face with your hands, feeling the embarrassment settle, but he only chuckled.

“I love you when you cum, too,” he whispered. His voice was close to your ear, and he placed a kiss against it—you let out a squeal, peeking out from behind your fingers before he pried them away from you. “You're beautiful, milady,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, “so pretty when you cum, so pretty for me. You'd be pretty with me inside you, too…”

You watched him delight in the way your face would redden, the way you feebly pushed at his chest as if to get him off of you.

But he laughed.

In his gaze, again, he held that same loving stare, eyes full of an adoration you could never match yourself—not when he looked at you like that.

“Only if you want to, of course,” he smiled, gently tucking an awry lock of hair behind your ear. “Seriously. I really, really love you… And I’d want ro do this with you. If you’re comfortable with it, if you'd let me… I want to love you like this, too.”

And there was so much love.

His eyes, a deep, deep brown you could get lost in any day, were reassuring. Calm, despite all that had gone on just moments ago. You felt… safe.

Safer than you've ever felt.

His touch was a warmth you welcomed, a gentleness so comforting, like the onset of spring. Like the sprouting of blossoms, like the gleam of the sky… Like—home. A pile of leaves you would gladly jump into.

You felt tears prick at your eyes again, your hands reaching out to tug on his sleeve—

“Want you, ‘Miah,” you whimpered. You'd plead and hold him close, wanting to feel him, to see him.

You could do this, you thought.

If it was with him, then—you could shard through any rose bush, weave through any forest. The bushes didn't block out the light anymore. It was different from diving in headfirst without much of a warning, when all he'd ever shown you was to be… Loved.

Thorns, and everything, and—

Maybe the challenges ahead didn't seem so… scary anymore.

Within moments he had you carried in his arms onto your bed, clothes discarded into a pile on the floor right there with yours. Your hair was in disarray as your head fell back against the pillows, linen sheets and the mattress plush against your body.

“I love you.”

He brought your hand to his lips, a manner of adoration, his eyes soft against the haze of the moonlight that shone through.

“I love you,” again.

Like he knew it was something you needed desperately to hear, like he was telling you he'd say it—again and again, as many times as you needed him to.

And you smiled.

Because this time, you say it back.

“I love you, Jeremiah.”

And his lips were back on yours, plush and soft like you've always known them to be, his hands trailing over your body. You were warm, still—so sensitive with the way you jolted and shivered against the pads of his fingers, the aftereffects of your earlier orgasm still reeling.

Then he pushed your legs apart and rest between them, rubbing against your entrance—your hands are held gently beside your head, fingers intertwined.

His lips never left yours.

He remained soft, and tender, molding his lips into yours when he entered. The initial thrust was slow and gentle; your moans swallowed into his kisses.

And everything—the way he filled you up, every ridge of his cock rubbing so sweetly against your walls; the way he kissed you, so loving; the way his hands had yours pressed into the mattress, a safety in the warmth of his fingers laced with yours—everything was perfect.

This was perfect.

Your shadows danced against the wall as he moved, starlight and gleam of the evening before you painting a scene so intimate—so… real.

The roll of his hips against yours brought you back into that lull of his name, his head buried into your neck. His breath was shaky against your skin—deep, breathy groans, the very sound of them shooting straight to your core, and you held each other tightly. Closer than close. As close as you could be; as close as you always wanted to be. The scent of your arousal remained heedy in the air as he claimed you, his strokes slow and deep, the steady rhythm enough to have your eyes rolling back into your head.

“H-hnngh, feels… Feels so good,” you whispered, clawing against his back, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him.

“Mhm? It does, huh?”

He'd plant kisses over your neck, dizzying whispers of sweet nothings into your ear.

“You're so pretty f'me, my lady,” he rasped. “So good around me… Taking me so well, haaahh, god—mmh, fuck—”

Hushed, muffled moans into kisses, into your skin, echoed with the soft, slow, pap, pap, pap, of his hips against yours.

And you felt it build.

“M'gonna cum,” you whined, and your hands found themselves buried into his hair, his head sneaking down to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Mmmhh. Go 'head, milady. Cum for me.”

With a final, deep breath, you shattered under his touch, crying out in ecstasy as your body convulsed around him. It was then that Jeremiah released you with a little wet pop, panting above you, his own thrusts becoming more sporadic.

He felt the way you clenched over him, the groan falling from his lips a melody that made your head spin.

“‘Miah,” you murmured, dizzy. “‘Miah, c'mon, c'mon…”

A word from you had him collapsing into your body, holding you tight, stilling as he spilled into you. You felt the pulse of his cock, hot liquid filling you to the brim, the scent of sweat and slick lingering in the air.

“I love you,” he mumbled again. It was something like a whine this time, a little less controlled, a little more… vulnerable.

Just as you had been.

You stroked his hair, falling back into a rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, breathing in time with the beat of your heart.

Your eyes closed, for a moment.

“Can I hold you?” you whispered. “Let's just… stay like this, for a while.”

“Mhm.”

“We can… get dinner later…”

“Mhm...”

You smiled.

“‘Miah?”

“...Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess. Always.”

an : a lot of a more personal piece, hence the insane amounts of self-indulgence laced into this fic <3 took me forever to decide which of my lnds cast i wanted to use for this, but eventually settled on jem based on the pure fact that he is the most realistically my type (zayne being ideal, xavier being fictional) LMAO <3 may has been a hard month (it tends to be) and i wanted to get this out as june starts, so !! happy june, everyone~~~

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love & deepspace smut #love and deepspace smut #l&ds smut #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace jeremiah #love & deepspace x reader #love & deepspace jeremiah #jeremiah smut #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah x you #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #✿˖°. roxiefic #divider by cafekitsune

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mschievousx · 3 days

Text

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she love her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

iv. four: you were right for me

"why would you need to go? the hawkins balloon will be tomorrow."

loraine silva finds herself at her father's study, planting her head on her hands above his table in an attempt to act endearing enough and change his mind.

she pouted, whining to him, "i am not interested with the gas laws related to balloons. i have read them enough."

"what is in this scientific convention then?" armand placed his pen down and removed his glasses, fully putting his attention to his daughter.

"chemistry and medicine!" she exclaimed with exciteness in her voice.

"hm? i thought you like engineering."

"i do, but it's not everyday you can practice chemistry and medicine." she argues. although the girl loves engineering above both subjects, the opportunity to witness these two does not come as often, "aside from the difficulty of obtaining chemicals, it also must be supervised closely."

he narrowed his eyes at her, crossing his arms strictly, "you're not helping your case. that means it would be dangerous."

raine pouted at him, her chances of attending continues to decline, "they are professionals and experts, likely recognised by the queen to be able to conduct such a grand expo."

"you have not been doing much of the work of a viscountess." he sternly added.

"papa, it is my very first season." she stood up, rounding the table to her father's side, clasping both hands as if on a prayer, "please? i will surely attend to everything after the season."

her father made no attempt to move or acknowledge whatever she said, forcing her to make more points for consideration.

"it is perhaps a part of being a viscountess. my presence in academic events will highlight our activeness in such field." still with no budge, she sighed heavily before another point entered her mind.

"it's like a ball. a lot of gentlemen will be there, and who knows? perhaps, i will meet a charming one who shares my interests." she reasoned with a dearly smile.

armand growled at the mention of charming boys. he really doubts there is anyone as such these days, "and what of the bridgerton boy?"

"i jest—it is still benedict. however," she moved to unlock his crossed arms and grasped his hands together in hers, which she cannot envelop seeing as her hands are quite smaller in comparison, and gave out a longing smile, "i could use another friend, can't i?"

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

it is safe to say that the young silva has her father wrapped around her thumb. with warm smiles here and there, she now arrives at the medical convention with unmeasurable elation.

stepping in, she did not know where to look at all. everywhere she turns, she could spend an hour looking at a single specimen—minus the bones. she does not like them at all. but, she knew they're still a sight to see, so she has decided to start with them before she spends most of her time to other subjects.

she walked and walked, simply passing the specimen with a lot of audience like the humerus, the pelvic bone, and the thoracic cavity.

raine would have really loved to observe the thoracic cavity but she thought against it. being in close proximity with a lot of people is not something she enjoys.

upon more walking, a lone skull has managed to grab her attention. she neared to look at it closely. it's crazy, isn't it? to refer to this skull as it when it once housed a brain of a moving, feeling person—one that was referred as he or she.

"the human skull is made up of twenty-two bones, accounting for ten percent of all our bones." an unfamiliar voice joined her side.

she stood up straight from her peering, adding to what the man said, "eight cranial, fourteen facial."

"a fan of the skull?"

raine turned to him at that question. she fought all her facial muscles that was aching to grimace. on another note, the man is quite handsome. of distinguished upbringing too, it seems.

she puffed out lightly as she turned back to the skull, "i dislike bones."

he chuckled at her strong statement, quite ironic that he finds her curiously looking at one, "what are you here for?"

"muscles, cardio, and neuro." she answered, walking away towards other specimen this time.

"ah, interesting choice of subjects. although, i must say, bones are as important." the man followed closely, which she did not mind but she would have loved to look around with none bothering her.

she let out a sarcastic chuckle, looking around as if disregarding his person, "i did not say otherwise."

"you dislike it."

the young lady turned to him with a crossed brows, "i do not have to like it for it to be as significant."

"you are shrugging at its importance." he stubbornly argued.

raine fired back, "i am shrugging at you."

"with the use of your scapula, which are in fact bones." he held up his right index finger, as if to highlight a point—a point she chose not to take.

"with the use of my muscles who initiate the movement sent by motor neurons." she completely turned to him, her voice quite increasing in volume.

his mouth is slightly ajar as raine waited for his retort. he settled with an astonished smile, offering a hand forward, "astley cooper, lady silva."

she let out a small scoff, her annoyance being covered by the very familiar name, "ah, and another day i do not get to introduce myself."

"you must understand. your family is celebrated," they continued to converse in a calmer manner, both accepting the arguments of each other, "and you cause an uproar everywhere you go."

the young silva lightly laughed at the mention of her antics, stopping in front of the humerus that was crowded earlier, "i like to leave my mark."

"i do not doubt it." mr. cooper affirmed.

"you are the son of sir cooper?" she inquired with indifference.

"i am." he shows no sign of surprise that the lady knows of the name. if she is indeed an academic, his father's name is always mentioned on the textbooks.

she simply hummed at that, proceeding to walk to another specimen, "well, this is your forte after all."

"conceding so easily, lady silva?" astley retorted with a hint of smugness. she turned to him, voice laced with friendly annoyance.

"i doubt you would argue with me about guns, would you?"

he laughed at her point as he replied, "never."

and for the first time of the day, she was reminded; she would have loved for him to be the one with her right now. granted, he does not know a lot about these, and granted, she prefers to look around in solitude in these events, but she would have seriously loved his presence. to him, she would never say never."

noticing her zoning out, the man coughed lightly and asked, "what part of the body do you most like?"

she turned to him, completely caught, "oh, hands."

"you surprise me. i thought you would be a lover of eyes. why the hands?"

she smiled at that, raising her hand from the arm near him, as if showing it to him, "they are fascinating; their ability to grip things."

she would have loved to mention the real reason. they can hold on to things. they can let things go. raine thought it too poetic for an academe like him to understand.

"incredible. i'm afraid mine is not as well-thought as yours."

she returned the question, certainly feeling the man's own urge to share his, "what's yours?"

"a femur. it's the hardest bone."

raine did not think twice to laugh. he was being honest after all. it was indeed not as well-thought.

they reach a hall where a live amputation is going on. most audiences were of the academy, she can tell. the daily man would have no appetite for such thing that these young men were watching closely.

she whispered to astley in a hushed voice, "how do you convince them to do it live?"

"he is from our school. he understands the importance of live discussions. sadly, he met an unfortunate accident, and here we are."

raine nodded in understanding, eyes watching the procedure attentively. it is quite harsh to look at, of course. after all, it is an amputation.

after the left mid-forearm was severed, the use of burnt wool was executed. the man has been administered with a bit of anaesthetic, but only enough for until the severing is done. a higher dose than that would prove to be risky for the patient. and so, the application of burnt wool can be felt by the man, gradually increasing in intensity.

as the procedure is ongoing, the surgeon performing it offered information and explanations here and there. the ligature, she could understand, but surely there's an alternative for burnt wool that is less painful.

"how about hydrogen peroxide, sir?" she offered, the surgeon and the students turning to her.

"what do you mean?" he asked, returning to his patient and continuing post-operative care.

"it may be able stop the bleeding more effectively than a burnt wool, which can cause more damage."

the surgeon chuckled, finding the fault on her argument, "it causes irritation to skin, actually the harmful one."

raine stepped forward, laying her case more directly, "yes, but in the right concentration, it has oxidative properties and is a reactive oxygen species. by this, it can cause vasoconstriction upon the dysfunction of the endothelial cells."

the surgeon turned to her, now understanding her train of thought, "it can close the source of the bleeding, achieving hemostasis."

"impressive. we will study such activity of the said chemical, lady?" he inquired, genuinely amazed by her case and how she has thought of it.

raine smiled inwardly, letting out the most prideful smirk she could muster, "silva. viscountess silva."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

just as the clock hits ten before two in the afternoon, the young lady has decided she's satisfied enough of the things she were able to witness and learn. that and the fact that her stomach is now growling.

as she stepped out of the building that housed the convention, she's met with a familiar back of a person across the street.

"ben!" she called, waving overly that some people have spared her a look. the said man turned to her and immediately placed a hand on his forehead at her loudness.

she eagerly crossed the street to him, bridgerton inquiring with a confused face, "what are you doing here?"

upon reaching him, she hugged his right arm with pure excitement as they continue to walk forwards. he could do nothing but let her, "there's a medical convention near. it was awesome!"

"really? i did not know." he feigned ignorance at that, the girl not minding anything as she was overcame with exhilaration.

"you're not an avid follower. that's alright. anyways—"

she proceeded to tell him what happened to her day, from the part she was begging her father to let her go until before the amputation. she also highlighted the specimen she has seen, throwing information about them with elation. she was about to continue when benedict interposed.

"i would have went with you, you know." he said before setting his eyes back on where the pair is walking towards, now with a smaller voice, "if you just asked."

she heard it. of course, she heard it. he could whisper meters away and she would certainly hear it with ease. and, no matter how high up on cloud nine she was, she had no problem jumping off it just to hear him.

raine giggled at his offer, "it's not fun for you. you would find the contents of it boring."

"i would not," he replied at once, seeming as if he does not even need to think twice of the reason, "you were there."

she stopped walking instantly, pulling benedict back by the act without warning. he turned to her for the second time today and all he can see is her widest grin. she was not doing anything but grin, which is what making him so confused as of the moment.

and, just as raine was utterly clueless of what her words were doing to him, he was just as clueless of his words to her.

with confusion, he raised a brow at her, "what? did you have lunch?"

she simply nodded her head sidewards, grin still present, "i have not."

he nudged her as they begin walking again, "what say you for a late lunch together?"

her answer was apparent, "yes!"

they entered an eating house nearby, raine continuing her stories of the day as the food is served.

in the middle of eating, she asked out of the blue, "what part of the body do you most like, ben?"

"mine? let me think," he settled both his hands on the table, looking afar in thinking.

"hands," he replied, placing the fork on the dish to steady it as he slice, "you can tell a lot from a person's hands—the softness, the roughness, its shaking..."

raine smiled serenely at that. he would never fail to do poetic justice to the mere existence of things. and, perhaps, she should have really asked him to go with her earlier, so that the contents of the convention would feel alive once more by his words alone.

he knew her so well that his words spoke to her on their own. she could not remember clearly, but she was sure. it was a moment like this when she first realised she liked benedict. it was one of those moments where she realised that he was the right person for her.

"how about you? what were you doing around here?" she asked, turning to her own plate.

"oh, i was just walking around." he shrugged off easily, which just made her suspicious of it.

"oh my—right," she began, causing the man across her to look at her, "there is a pleasure house nearby."

he should have really noted already not to intake anything if the girl is present. but, he did not. and so, he finds himself choking once again, on food this time, at what the girl accused him of.

"what are you insinuating? how do you even know there is such a house here?!" he whisper-yelled, controlling his volume to not attract other listeners.

raine laughed at his reaction and gave a sarcastic, understanding smile, "ben, do not worry. i have known your activities since i was a child. i still like you."

"i did not go to a brothel!"

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x oc #father daughter tandem is fire here because we cant have it in real life #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict is a fox

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 11 hours

Note

Pls More general sfw headcanons of cooper and reader? Ghoul or pre war whichever you prefer honestly.

General SFW Prewar!Cooper Howard Headcanons 2

(I'll do some Ghoul SFW in a follow-up; this got away from me a little.)

Clearly he enjoys film and theatre, but he has a fairly secret soft spot for musicals. Pretty much any musical will pique his interest, and you'll spend a fair few date nights out seeing shows. You find it very endearing that he wants to share his interests with you. He's got an especially soft spot for some of the older, cheesier musicals though; hope you're ready to see "Brigadoon" like a half dozen times! He's got that one on tape.

"Old Yeller" is banned media in the Howard household (as are most things about dogs who die), as well as books like "The Velveteen Rabbit", which he read to Janey when she was four and never truly recovered from. Coop cries like a baby every time and gets so embarrassed. You once asked Janey if she'd ever seen it, and she tells you, rather conspiratorially, that she once watched it at a friend's house.

The old man actually cries quite easily when he's moved by something. He'll try to hide it away, but every once in a while he fully loses it (tbh it's the 'child death' type stuff that really upsets him; to this day, he's still a little mad at Barb for showing him "Bridge to Terabithia" on family movie night and thinking he would like it). You think it's the sweetest thing and you always reassure him that it's nothing to be ashamed of.

I imagine that, like a good, engaged father, he takes a particular interest in Janey's likes and hobbies; if you ask him what she likes, he can give you an entire list of things you can engage with her on, every single one of them accurate and up-to-date. If Janey really likes a book series, he'll read it (or maybe listen to it if he's short on time). If she really likes a band, y'all have fun at the concert! Every group comes through LA so you may be going to several concerts a year eventually. He even knows who her favorite member is! He only falls in love with you more when you do the same with her.

He's a true romantic at heart; despite being really torn up about the divorce and thinking he'll never fall in love again, he does, and hard. It's not long before he (unbelievably, to him especially) finds himself wanting to propose. He waits a while, though, wanting to feel out the dynamic between you and Janey, worrying about how Barb will feel when she ultimately finds out. He doesn't want to be married to her anymore, but he still cares for her, and he doesn't want to hurt her.

I'd like to think that he and Barb had a pretty nice, large wedding (as I've said before, likely at an older age than many of their peers, even if, canonically, it seems they were already dating during Cooper's military service; they both strike me as the type to want to wait until they were better established to actually marry). Not anything too crazy, but since Cooper's career was really starting to take off, she did want to use the wedding as an opportunity to rub elbows, so there were quite a few people in attendance that he flat-out didn't know. It didn't bother him much at the time; Barb always loved an opportunity to network and Coop could never deny her anything. But, given a chance to do it over, I think he'd do things differently.

With you, he'd wanna go to the courthouse. He'd be happy to have a nice, private ceremony eventually, maybe a little vow renewal for your one-year down on the beach in Mexico or something. But when you get legally married it'll be at the courthouse, just the two of you and Janey. You wouldn't have it any other way.

You try your best to keep it under wraps, but, well...marriage licenses are a matter of public record, and there are people whose whole job is to unearth things like that. The fallout (ha) from it may be stronger than you anticipated, but, at the end of the day, you have one another, and you're happy with that.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard headcanons #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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faust-the-enjoyer · 2 days

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@certifiedcodbabygirl asked: heyyy can i request an nsfw ask? Simon Riley fingering us until we cry? like at first we're tryna prove we can hold it in but it gets to the point where we can't and the tears start falling,, lol brain worms

Lost Bet

Tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni, gn!reader, gender neutral anatomy, fingering, terms of endearment, crying (the good type lol), silly whimsical sex, spitting (once), slight fluff, praise, mentions of aftercare at the end.

A/n: Yes I looked up jokes lol.

Divider by: @/saradika-graphics

It started with a stupid conversation you had with him while lying in bed one night, smirking at him as you applied some lotion to your hands before bed, "I'm telling you love, you always cry when I make you feel good.", you scoff, "I do NOT.", he sighs and adjusts his pillow, "Yes, you do, and frankly it's a compliment.", he chuckled as you raised a brow at him and smiled, "Tell you what...if I cry the next time we have sex, then I owe you twenty pounds, but! If I don't, then you owe me those twenty pounds, hm? Deal?", he narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, a small smile pulling at his lips, "You're serious?", he quietly asks as you get under the covers with him, "Mhm.".

A couple of days later, he's got you pushed on the bed, kissing you hungrily, pulling back to kiss your neck as you slowly unbuttoned your shirt, "I'm not gonna cry, you'll see.", you chuckle and ruffle his short hair, he groans as he starts kissing your chest, "Yeah, I will.". His warm lips latch onto one of your nipples while one of his hands plays with the other, his tongue flicking while his fingers squeeze your nipples, making you buck your hips towards his, "Fuck...", you breathe heavily, already indulging in what he's doing to you. Finally, after teasing your chest so much, he moves lower, right where you want him to be, his hands pull your sweatpants off, and he rubs your crotch through your underwear, "Fuck, so needy, gonna make you cry for me, love...", you let out a small laugh as he pulls your underwear down as well, "No, I won't, I'll be taking twenty pounds from you by the time we're do-...", your breath hitches in your throat as you see him spit on your hole, looking you in the eye as you bite your lip.

"Give me the bottle, love...", you reach for the bottle of lube next to you on the nightstand, handing it to him, watching him open it with those big fingers of his...the same fingers that stretch you out. After putting a proper amount of lube on his fingers, he starts rubbing at your hole gently, eliciting some heavy breaths from you as you put your hand in his hair, playing with it. As he starts to work you open with his hands, he bites your inner thighs gently, chuckling as you close your legs on his head as tight as you can, purposely. "Simon,", he knows what's coming, "Knock knock.", he sighs, his finger gently probing at your tight hole now, "Who's there?", you moan a little as you feel his touch, "F-foreskin.", he raises a brow as his finger digs in deeper, "Foreskin who?", you close your eyes and gulp, "The world's greatest foreskin teller.". He lets out a chuckle, slapping your thigh lightly, "You need to work on your "knock knock" jokes, love, foreskin?", he finally puts it in slowly, working you open little by little, and you don't know if your moan was interrupted by your laughter, or your laughter was interrupted by your moan. "Like you're any better, Mr. Dark Humour.".

As he kept moving his finger inside you, going a little deeper every now and then, he could see you start clutching the pillow you're laying your head on, slowly melting from his touch. He hums a little, "Ready for a second one, love?", you shake your head, gulping, trying to catch your breath, "Not yet, Simon.". He gets back to stretching you out, this time instead of biting, he's kissing your inner thighs, leaving small, almost unnoticeable hickies on your skin. He's so eager to please you, to make you feel good, but this time, it's not only because of how much he adores you, it's because he also wants you to lose the bet and get those damn twenty pounds, as silly as it sounds. He pulls his finger out after a bit, to which you groan. He smiles and grabs the lube bottle again, "Relax love, do you want a second finger in you or not?", you bury the back of your head into the pillow, "Gonna put the second one in now?", you ask him quietly, and he stops his movements, lube bottle in hand, "Do you want me to?", you nod eagerly and he smiles, pouring some more lube on his fingers, and closing the bottle and throwing it to the side. He's now gently rubbing at your hole with both fingers now, trying to get you to loosen up so he doesn't hurt you.

"Fuck, I loosened you up well sweetheart...I can just...", he slowly puts in his first finger, then the second, no pain at all for you, he knows your body well enough to know when it'll hurt and when it won't, though that doesn't mean he won't ask you before he does anything. You giggle a little, bringing the sides of your shirt up and covering your face with it, "I won't cry", you think to yourself, but you're already hiding your face from how hot it feels, from how giddy you feel. "No no, show me your face, love.", and you oblige, letting your shirt fall, revealing your smiling face. You suddenly feel a wave of pleasure go through you as he starts moving his fingers slowly, curling them ever so slightly as he looks up at you, "You're so warm, love...". After a while of that slow pace, he picks it up a little, hands moving faster, still looking up at you with that hungry stare, his eyes narrowing and his lips turning up into a smile once he sees the desperate look on your face, tears slowly forming in them.

You hold onto your pillow, closing your eyes tightly as you moan, "I won't let it out, you'll see.", but he doesn't care about the bet that much anymore. He puts his other hand on your head, resting his palm on the back of your head as he finger-fucks you, positioning your head towards his and getting his face closer to yours until his forehead is meeting yours, "It's alright love, let it out for me, I'm here for you...". His words ring in your ears, and you shake your head at him, but as you try to hold your tears back, his pace only grows more, and you give up trying to do so. Your moans fill the room as you open your eyes right at him, filled with tears, he usually hates seeing you cry, but not like this, no, this is flattering him and his skills. He curls and uncurls his fingers, and that's it, that's what makes you sob and cry and let it all out, making your tears run down your face, the face that he loves so much, "Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Simon!". He looks at your facial expressions as you cry and come undone, slowing his pace as he sees you try to catch your breath after your high, eventually pulling his fingers out and holding the sides of your face, the two fingers he just fucked you with pointing outwards, making sure to not dirty your face, "Shh...shh....just take a deep breath, you did so well, love, you did so well for me...", he helps you calm down and wipes away your tears, smiling when he hears your sniffles and chuckles, "I lost the bet.", he sighs and caresses your cheek, "That's alright...but I still expect to see twenty pounds on my nightstand tonight, sweetheart.", he chuckles as he gets off of the bed, getting a towel from the bathroom to clean up the mess between your legs. You look up at him quietly, "You ok? I know you don't like it when I cry...especially during sex...", he kisses your knees and sighs as he slowly cleans you up, "I'm alright love, I just hate seeing it happen when you're in pain, but you weren't today, were you....". You smile up at him, resting your head on the pillow and trying to calm down.

#faust speaks #cod x reader #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #call of duty x reader

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faulty-writes · 2 days

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Hiii Can you please write headcanons on how Iida would be like having a crush on his female classmate? Can you also mention how he finds their height difference cute?

Thank you so much huhu I really really love your works! May you have a wonderful year🤍

Thank you so much for being a fan of my writing. I would be happy to write headcanons about Tenya crushing on a female classmate. I hope I did your request justice!

Tenya couldn't remember the last time he so carefully calculated interactions considering his stomach churned whenever he saw you. Even asking you something as simple as, "Pardon but…perhaps I could offer you assistance in your studies?" was rather difficult given how much he admired you.

Although he remained polite with whomever he was in contact with, he tended to address you with the utmost respect and treated you differently from the other girls in your class as he continuously offered to do such things as walk you to and from classes and assist you into your seat.

"That's quite lovely that you have accomplished such a task! It was an honor to watch you perform during the training exercise!" Maybe it was your imagination, but you could swear he praised you for even the smallest things.

On occasion, Tenya appeared flustered around you. The unusual red tint of his cheeks was very noticeable, but whenever you questioned it, he was quick to deny anything was wrong or he'd make some excuse as to why he needed to leave.

"That is why I must insist you attend this event with me," he was strangely formal when he asked to spend time with you outside of school. Of course, he had carefully planned the social events he had in mind because he wished to leave a long-lasting impression on you.

Among the many traits and characteristics, he favored about you, he found that your short stature was rather endearing. He favored towering over you just as much as leaning over to speak to you. That slight annoyance and disbelief that washed over your face every time was particularly interesting and made him crave to see more.

"I insist! Though I am quite certain you are capable of carrying such weight, I do not believe it's in my best interest to not assist a female in this manner." He wanted to ensure he was of proper help, and as such, he'd favor carrying your books or backpack for you when he assumed you were struggling.

After some time, his closest friends, Izuku and Uraraka, noticed his distressed state after he finished having a conversation or interaction with you. Although it was obvious why he was feeling this way, they had little problem teasing him about his feelings but promised they would support him.

"It is because of this that I would like to…" he cleared his throat, "c-confess my deepest admiration of…" A sigh escaped him as he looked at himself in the mirror. Practicing the perfect confession was not an easy task, and it caused him some frustration, but he would not plan to reveal his feelings about you until he had perfected them into words.

#tenya x reader #iida x reader #tenya x you #iida x you #tenya x y/n #iida x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #tenya x female reader #faulty writes: tenya iida: 24 #faulty writes: tenya iida: headcanons: 24

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vasyandii · 2 days

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HELLO! ^^

I’m a huge sucker for romance and relationship dynamic type questions so I do have some questions about VernAM (I believe that’s the right way)

Not the questions have to be answered, as I believe I have too many! But here’s my top three

1. In one of the little comics you did I believe AM talked about how he refused to give himself a body heat because of the concern he would produce and odour and this is where this question blooms from, does AM have any insecurities when it comes to his human body, or a fear that he doesn’t meet Vernons expectations? Or that she’ll find something un attractive or gross about him?

2. Whats their favourite thing about each other? It could be a personality trait, a skill, a body part, or say a little habit they tend to do?

3. Are they more dog people, cat people, or some other species like fish or reptilians or do they not prefer animals at all (if they had the ability to adopt pets)

Thank you so much! I love your art so very much and gain lots of inspiration from you to grow better in not just art but in educating myself in different cultures and ethnicities, please remember to drink water and I hope you have a wonderful day! Thank you once again! ^_^

Howdy Romeo! I'm happy I was able to inspire you in some way! I'd be happy to answer all your questions! Thank you for the ask! 💞💞

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

1.) Does AM have any insecurities when it comes to his human body?

Obviously, yes. It's AM's first time on Earth physically, of course he would have insecurities. However, it's not fully because he wants to meet Vernon's expectations. It's the fear of BEING.

(This is gonna lean into some confusing type shit so bear with me. I briefly touched upon it in the second question of this post)

When AM was given a physical, tangible body, there's now a HIM that can suddenly be held accountable for his actions and that makes him uncomfortable. So being aware his body isn't as mighty as him (the complex), AM tries to combat it by removing variables that can be prone to criticism even if Vernon doesn't mind.

Look at it this way; usually people act differently online than they do in real life, right? That's usually because there's often a disconnect with their actions. This discrepancy largely stems from the perceived disconnect between their online actions and their real-world identities. When interacting online, there is often no face or tangible form that can be directly traced back to the individual. This sense of anonymity can lead to a significant reduction in accountability.

As a result, individuals—particularly those who may not be well-adjusted or who possess mean-spirited tendencies—feel emboldened to say and do things they would never consider in face-to-face interactions. They exploit this lack of immediate consequences, engaging in behaviors that are often harmful, disrespectful, or downright cruel - Much like AM, who only just recently acquired a body. (I hope that makes sense ;0;)

2.) What's their favorite thing about each other?

I'll categorize these by personality traits, skill, body part, and habit!

Vernon likes AM because of his hatred/sass because it allows her to have an outlet for her morbid curiosity along with an entertaining conversation. She doesn't find his skills her favorites because that's just him, she believes AM doesn't have skills as a man. Her favorite body part is AM's eyes, he's easier to read as a man. His pupils dilate significantly when he looks at her and AM doesn't even know. A habit she finds endearing from AM is him holding onto the end of her shirt with his hand and following her around wherever she goes.

As for AM, Vernon's take no prisoners attitude is his favorite part of her personality. Of course AM also enjoys the moments when she's caring towards him, but that's something expected. His favorite skill is how good of a liar Vernon is. She could tell him something so outlandish with such a straight face that AM would consider believing it; it's like she believes the lie herself. His favorite part of Vernon's body is her lips, AM likes how soft and warm they are, and how they're shaped. A habit he enjoys is that she would pace around the space they're sharing when she's talking, AM just likes watching her walk, I guess.

3.) Which animals do they prefer, if any?

In regards to if they're cat or dog people; Vernon is a dog person, to her they're easier to train. AM would probably like cats since they do as they please.

For other animals, They would be a Reptile and Bird household xD. I could see Vernon owning a bearded dragon or any cold blooded reptile while AM has like a cool African Grey Parrot :)

But in reality I don't think these two should have access to animals lmao

Aaand that's all for now :3 if you'd like me to clarify anything, feel free to ask! Thank you for reading!

#VernonAM #Ihnmaims #vernon ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #vernon i have no mouth and i must scream #am i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #veomany vernon inthalangsy #art #digital art #artwork #original character #ihnmaims oc #oc x canon #oc x cc

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yenonnoff · 2 days

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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 28. what comes after heartbreak?

note: word count is 3.2k (^O^)

atsumu was face-to-face with the person he used to call his “love.” what would usually be the feeling of butterflies or warm rush of affection through his body was replaced with pure contempt. now, he only saw a witch—a girl that had insidiously beguiled him into falling in love.

atsumu was already inside the record store when he saw emma. long hair, rosy cheeks, full lips—the epitome of pretty privilege. from afar, she looked as approachable and friendly as a lily; however, get close and she might bite you like a venus flytrap.

atsumu understood why he was so charmed by her all those years ago. nevertheless, that was then and this was now. a switch was flipped the moment the two broke up, and all the sweet affection was drained from him.

one moment, atsumu was inside the record store; the next, he was sitting across emma in a nearby cafe. this was against everything atsumu stood for. however, he needed answers and he didn’t want to rush headlong into a sudden confrontation. he didn’t want to destroy his one sanctuary just because of emma.

“why are you here? how did you know i was here?” atsumu demanded firmly. a vexed wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, matching the guarded way he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. his body was completely tense. atsumu miya’s defenses were all up and his system was working overtime on full alert.

“oh, please. it’s a public place for crying out loud.” she retorted.

atsumu stared at her in disbelief, his frustration completely inflamed. “first, it was that photo you posted. now, you appear in front of me in the record store. how much more selfish can you get?”

“what? selfish?! this was the only time i’ve been back to that scruffy place filled with junk. besides, i just asked around for your schedule. today’s your break and i know you always go there to clear your mind.” she drew in an exaggerated breath, her index finger twirling a strand of hair. she continued with a scoff, “especially after everything that happened last week, i had a feeling you’d come back here.”

one thing about emma was that she always got whatever she wanted. but not here, not with atsumu.

“never come back here again. i thought i made that clear when we broke up—guess i’ll have to drill it into your brain for you to actually understand. if you don’t leave me alone, i’ll reveal every single detail of what you did during the time we dated to the public.”

emma’s eyes widened. “are you crazy? are you threatening me right now?”

that was another thing about emma: she only ever cared about herself.

“our agreement was that i keep your shamefulness a secret. in exchange, you were to never associate with me again; never message or mention me; and never step foot near the places connected to me. this included the record store. you broke the rules first, i have every right to ‘threaten’ you.”

atsumu’s body was less rigid now, but his eyes were still narrowed in earnest hatred. his disdain for emma ran deeper than anything anyone could ever imagine.

when a waiter stopped by, atsumu waved an absent hand in dismissal. “i’m not ordering. i won’t be staying long enough for a drink anyway.” awkwardness swirled in the air and atsumu could feel the thundering displeasure coming from across the table. after the waiter walked away, emma grumbled, “could you have at least saved me some face? now i look desperate.”

“funny. that’s rich coming from you.”

“listen, i think there’s been a misunderstanding. i didn’t come here intending to break our agreement. i came here because i was worried about you.”

emma’s third thing: her dedication to her cruel artifices, honing them like a mad lady. that was how she’d fooled him into becoming so disastrously lovesick. if he didn’t know better, he would’ve been swayed by her endearing concernment.

“why would you be worried about me?”

“because of the movie theater incident obviously. i recognized the denim hat you always wore, and that hoodie, it’s the one your brother gifted you, right?”

atsumu’s gaze bore into her. he wanted to laugh at her absurdity but her words had brought up another issue he’d been dealing with: you. he hadn’t been able to talk to you all week. his mind was restless wondering how you’ve been doing.

he wanted to talk to you in person, be surrounded by your warmth again and experience the fervid comfort you bring him just by being there. even now, in the disturbing presence of his ex-girlfriend, all he could think about was you. he thought about your worrisome craze for coffee, wondering if you’d like the small cafe he was currently in. he thought of all the puerile topics he’d talk to you about if you were sitting in front of him instead of emma.

“still obsessed with me are we?” atsumu asked.

to be honest, he was exhausted. he’d only come here to be alone in the record store absorbed by all the captivating music it had to offer. but no, he was wasting his time talking to a brick wall. he wished you were here instead.

emma huffed, crossing one leg over the other. “honestly, how could you be so reckless? how could you get caught with a no name actress? good thing that guy cleared things up. do you know how damaging it could’ve been to you?”

the fourth thing about emma was her shameless ideology: reputation and prestige mattered more than anything else. obviously this was all masked during the time they dated. for two years, she concealed her dishonesty and false compassion—even her friendliness and good nature weren’t real. she had played atsumu miya like a fool. and he often wondered if she ever went to sleep laughing quietly to herself while being cuddled in his arms.

atsumu rubbed the bridge of his nose. of course he didn’t realize how damaging his actions could’ve been, he wasn’t even the one getting bashed on by randoms. it seemed—similarly to them—emma also lacked critical thinking skills. she failed to see that her fans were targeting you instead of him. so while she sat here blabbering ludicrously, you were probably still dealing with crazy fans in your comments.

there was another thing atsumu couldn’t let go. how could she call you a “no name actress,” when you weren’t the one that paid your way into the industry? her comment was just ridiculous.

“never talk about y/n like that ever again. i’m serious about my threat, emma. i wasn’t the one that wanted the agreement in the first place. you’re the only one who'll get hurt if i release a statement.”

he prepared to stand when emma reached over and caught hold of his arm. he pulled away immediately, disgust written all over his face.

emma let out a defeated sigh. “wait, please. look, i don’t think we ever got the closure we needed, so i came here to say i’ve changed a lot after we broke up. i don’t do that thing anymore…”

atsumu rolled his eyes. it’s been more than a year since they separated. what closure did she need now?

“and by ‘that thing,’ you mean your habit of bribing people,” he sneered.

emma’s gaze faltered. his words had made her hesitate. “yes, i’m just grateful to director sage and his film. it allowed all of these opportunities and sponsorships to come in.”

atsumu’s hands curled into fists by his side, his knuckles turning patently white. at that moment, he wanted to scream at her. she’d learned nothing; this whole time, she barely needed to lift a finger. all those opportunities were handed to her after she paid for a role on director sage’s film. it was still bribery. she still paid her way to success.

“then what about your current role? why am i hearing people say you paid for that too?”

“what? where are you hearing that?” she asked, enraged. emma’s fifth thing: she hated being criticized and proven wrong.

“you forget that everyone in the industry hates you. staff members talk shit behind your back and actors despise your guts. even director sage hated working with you. it’s astonishing really.”

emma was too dazed to reply. she didn't know if it was true or not, but she hoped it was just an attempt to rankle her.

atsumu continued after her silence: “tell me, did you or did you not pass the audition?”

“this again? i told you, i stopped doing that stuff a long time ago!” emma groaned, tapping her index finger against the table frantically. “obviously i passed. that’s why i have the role in the first place.” her finger continued to tap, her feet flicking up and down in a similar rhythm.

“liar,” atsumu said plainly. “you’re lying right through your teeth. you did it again, didn’t you? used your dad’s money to buy the role you failed to get.”

“i’m serious!” tap, tap, tap— everything about her was becoming a nuisance. she was a disturbance to the cafe’s homey atmosphere; her honeyed voice, the one he’d once loved so dearly, had turned rough and utterly annoying.

atsumu shook his head. “oh, c’mon. you claim you’re an actress but you can barely lie to save your life. stop doing that thing with your finger and foot whenever you lie, it might help you save some embarrassment.”

“are you being for real right now?”

“extremely. so stop it, emma. stop trying to be so glorious. stop trying to act like jolie.” he scoffed in disbelief, “did you really have to stoop so low?”

he watched as her face twisted in confusion. “i know you tried copying her personality. did you know she still gets hate for it? when your quote-unquote fans noticed similarities between how you both acted, they went rampant on jolie for ‘copying’ you. you’re poison, emma. you only cause people harm.”

emma waved a dismissive hand in the air as if his words were a pest. that action alone embittered atsumu beyond belief. he could still remember how jolie felt after receiving hundreds of tirades from people online. she was torn between being true to her selfless nature or containing it. she’d chosen the latter, and it was only recently that she started loosening up again.

“i’m done. i don’t know why i wasted my time here with you. if you post another picture as a ruse to get people talking, i really am going to expose how you cheated on me.”

that garnered an immediate reaction. “it wasn’t like that!”

“right. on our business trip, in our hotel room, on our bed. who were you even fucking? some a-lister you randomly met?”

“i was drunk!” her exclamation received stares from nearby staff members. emma’s drink had been on standby for a while now, except no one was brave enough to bring it to her. they didn’t want to get caught in the heated conversation, preferring to tend to other customers.

“you already gave that excuse,” atsumu said, his voice barely above a whisper. he was reliving hell just by sitting there. the memories of the heartbreaking incident were unfolding in his mind—the memories he wanted so badly to suppress.

it just had to be on valentine’s day of all days. the two of them were invited overseas to partake in a modeling event; they were there for three days and on the last, emma reid got bored and messed up.

atsumu learned two things that day: first was his girlfriend’s incompetency, and how she resorted to bribery to get acting roles. the next was her disloyalty and how their relationship was a complete lie. it all happened in a single evening.

the last day of their trip was dedicated to solo activities only. emma had finished her duties early and was free to do whatever she wanted around the city. atsumu, on the other hand, was stuck at a stuffy and formal gathering. people of various reputable statuses were there and atsumu was invited as a guest by a brand he was modeling for. being social and talkative was one of atsumu’s strong suit—but it also led him to discovering a truth he never wanted to know.

that night, a young man around atsumu’s age approached him with a smile. he was another model that was invited as a guest, and the two got along quickly. then, when the man asked about atsumu’s relationship, atsumu watched as he started to laugh boisterously. apparently he’s worked with her before. the world really was small.

“oh, but isn’t her family really rich? i heard her dad’s loaded! looks like he dotes on her a lot.”

“and?” atsumu asked, wondering where the conversation was going.

“well, i heard she only gets roles and gigs through underhand tactics. y’know, like bribery, using her family’s name and wealth to—“

“but you only heard that though. it’s not true, just gossip.”

he gave atsumu’s arm a playful slap. “hey, man! stop hurting my feelings, i have lots of connections so i know everything that happens in that industry. it’s fucking twisted honestly,” the young man laughed again. “i heard a director talking about it once, so my suspicions are cleared. do you want another dri—“

by then, his words were already drowned out by atsumu’s racing thoughts. his mind was engaged in a futile debate, but he already knew what was true and what wasn’t. atsumu was slowly piecing together all the coincidences during the time they filmed with director sage. he was always so distraught by her for no apparent reason; he was also much harsher on her compared to the others in the main cast. he was more displeased, more spiteful of the film despite it becoming a large success. connect that with everything else and a complete puzzle was formed.

atsumu was too lovesick to see anything at the time. he was too convinced and blinded by her geniality to notice her hateful schemes. still, this was something the two of them could overcome… they could talk about it, resolve things, and he could help her become better.

but could he? would his conscience allow it? would he be able to sleep soundly knowing he was with someone who stole opportunities from others?

the rest of the event was a blur. when everything ended, atsumu rushed back to his hotel room, clinging onto the diminishing hope that everything would work out—that the two of them would still be okay after this. then, he saw someone leaving the shared hotel room: a man atsumu was sure he’d seen on one of the city’s billboards. the attractive man faltered when he saw atsumu in the hallway, and atsumu felt his world falling apart.

a million assumptions ran through his mind and he reached the door in hurried steps, bypassing his girlfriend’s accomplice completely. the sight of her naked on their shared bed had said enough—said everything.

clothes on the floor, crumpled sheets, tangled hair. all atsumu could do was whisper her name in crushing anguish. he stood there as she fumbled to shield herself with the blanket, shame overriding her previous smiling expression. she’d been caught. she’d messed up.

he watched as she clothed herself, a swarm of emotions rushing through his veins. he swallowed his heartbreak and bore his defenses. he needed to prepare himself for the next few agonizing minutes.

at first, he was calm. perhaps a bit shaken up, but he’d just returned back from an exhausting event. the collar of his dress shirt was digging into his skin, and he feared he didn’t have enough energy to argue.

emma—beautiful and serene, the one person atsumu confidently loved with his whole being—sat in front of him avoiding eye contact. she didn’t say anything; she didn’t even apologize. the gesture made atsumu question their whole relationship.

through her silence, atsumu found his strength to speak up. defend himself. he inevitably triggered a tug of war, a painful back and forth between him and her. both were persistent and defensive, becoming increasingly inflamed with anger.

their words sharpened into blades that pierced one another’s hearts at different angles. atsumu continued to sit while emma stood with ire surging through her body. she was on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by his barrage of accusations and questions directed at their relationship.

did she even love him? did she even care about their future? about him? what was he to her?

then, atsumu brought up her bribery and her facade instantly cracked. she didn’t give him any honest answers. the only thing that increased with her excuses were his sighs. so this was how they were going to end things.

caught in the heat of the moment, emma admitted that atsumu was only a publicity stunt to her. she’d only dated him for more recognition and immersion into the acting industry. his good looks and charms were only a bonus. she’d said out of spite, hoping to hurt his feelings, and it’d accomplished just that.

it was done: their relationship, their future, everything.

atsumu moved past emma to pack his belongings. he’ll get a new hotel room and flight tickets; he’ll get to see his brother again, maybe even visit rin in his studio, or just invite all three of them (omi if he’s not too busy) to play beach volleyball. yeah, he’ll be fine. everything will go back to normal when he lands in tokyo again.

then, emma grabbed onto his arm. she begged him to keep everything a secret—to have the faintest sympathy towards her. if emma’s cheating schemes were exposed to the public, even her family’s wealth wouldn’t be enough to calm down the media. her bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks had convinced him. while he might’ve been in love with a facade this whole time, he’d still experienced happiness. she’d kept him content and smiling for two years; keeping this a secret was the least he could do.

however, if he was going to do this, she needed to agree to his conditions as well. peace was all he wanted and he’d set up the agreement with it in mind.

back in the cafe, emma continued to insist on a false reality: “atsumu, honestly, i didn’t know!”

he saw her tapping finger and felt something ugly and twisted wrap around his tattered heart. he felt regret for ever comparing you to her. clearly, you were far greater and more special than emma will ever be. he truly wished her the worst.

“we’re finished here. i don’t ever want to see you again; i know how precious your reputation is to you.” he stood from his seat, his sudden action surprising the nearby weary staff members. “oh, and, stop with your stunts, they’re embarrassing. you should know better than to drag rin into this. he hates your guts as much as i do, maybe even more.”

“what?” she craned her head upwards to stare at him. “but he always waves back when i see him in the studio. he… smiles sometimes too.”

“here’s the nice thing about rin: he’s not an actor but he can still lie. did you know he tells us everything behind your back? he always has a good laugh, saying how stupid you are.”

“he—!”

“go buy some acting classes with your dad’s money for god’s sake. you have so much at least put it to good use.”

atsumu didn’t wait to see her reaction. he left the cafe immediately, calling for a taxi home.

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

atsumu was able to hang out with osamu, rin, and omi when he got back to tokyo. however, he fell into long periods of stagnation afterwards, finding it difficult to stop thinking about emma and their previous life together. it ultimately led to his year long hiatus.

the cafe staff members were lowkey eavesdropping, but they were completely clueless about what was happening. they're just teenagers trying to get a paycheck, someone help them. all they knew was that the girl messed up and the blond guy was right (as they should!).

please join the emma hate group along with me, atsumu, jolie, and rin (there are probably more members we hate this girl)

emma actually fumbled. why would you cheat on atsumu in the first place, please!!

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: idk if my writing is inconsistent pls tell me if it is actually no actually yeah. hmmm anyways act 3 guys !!!

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)

⌒☆ @kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface @azharyy @mimi3lover @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @dazball @whykirbo

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sweetalgue · 16 hours

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I really hope this fandom isn't dead, i need content and discussion about Ace Attorney 😭

I'm currently playing at The Great Ace Attorney (the first one for the moment) and i love it so much !!! The characters are great, very endearing, i love a lot of them ! While i was playing, i needed to draw the prosecutor, the famous Reaper Van Zieks ! He's so cool omg i love him ! He remind me Edgeworth, it's funny and pleasant ! 💙

So there is this little drawing

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney #barok van zieks #fanart #artists on tumblr #my art

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cherrycolacigs · 3 days

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Insatiable

18 and up only.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, emotional sex ig? Creampie💀

You blinked, the early sunrise shining into the window, awaking you from your sleep.

A soft yawn escaped your lips as you squinted, taking in the surroundings of your bedroom. The soft sheets rubbed against your bare body, reminding you of your previous night, and a strong arm tightened its grip on you, pressing you firmer against the chest that belonged to Sherlock. You sighed softly, unmoving as not to wake him. However, you couldn't help but turn your head slightly to see the face of your beloved husband. To your surprise however, you were met with his tender gaze, blue eyes already opened and awake.

"Good morning," he whispered huskily, pressing a kiss onto your face. You let out a soft murmur and stretched as much as you could in his tight hold, nudging your nose against his.

"Good morning..." you greeted sleepily, shutting your eyes again before turning your head back around, facing away from him.

He chuckled softly, burying his face into your neck. You were so endearing.

"How was your rest?"

Sherlock rubbed your waist comfortingly, the other wrapped firmly around your torso.

"Mmm, good," you mumbled, drowsily pushing back against him, welcoming his embrace. He grunted quietly, peppering kisses along your shoulder.

"Not too sore are you?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at you, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort.

"Only a little bit," you replied, opening your eyes once more to stare at the wall. "Mm I should get up but I don't know how I possibly could do so with you clinging this powerfully onto me,"

He bit his lower lip and adjusted your body against his, spooning you tighter. "It's because I don't want you to leave," he muttered.

He thought, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. "Are you ok to... make love again?"

Your face flushed in slight surprise that he wanted to be intimate once more after doing so only hours prior. He could really be insatiable sometimes. But then again, he did always feel so amazing inside of you.

"Only if you are comfortable in doing so," he reassured, slightly worried by your silence.

"I am," you whispered quickly, feeling slickness already dripping out of you. "I... I would love to."

He growled softly, gripping onto your hips. "Mmm we are already in the perfect position..." he moaned softly, reaching down to grasp his half-hard manhood, rubbing the tip against your slippery folds. You inhaled a sharp, ragged breath, your body jolting in pleasure.

"Oh," you whimpered, your eyes fluttering closed as your lips parted.

He hummed, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. "Already soaked for me."

He pushed into you, your walls stretching around him, trying to adjust to the large intrusion. "Gah..." he groaned, squeezing your hip as a you let out a small cry of pleasure and pain. He throbbed inside of you, fighting the urge to pound you into the mattress. But no. He wanted this to be slow. "Shhh, oh darling its... it's alright," Sherlock assured, breathing softly into your ear, causing you to shiver. He snaked his hand down your body, resting on your womb as he pressed down on your lower stomach. "You feel that?" He rasped. "You feel me growing inside of your sweet cunt?" He whispered, pressing wet kisses against your jaw and neck.

You squirmed, letting out a moan as you dug your nails into his arm. It was too much, the way he spoke so softly in your ear and kissed your most sensitive spots.

"Sherlock," you whined, a pathetic whimper forcing its way out of your throat.

Your husband started lazily thrusting his hips, biting and sucking onto your neck as his pants and grunts filled the space between you. You cried out quietly, eyes squeezing shut as your mouth stayed agape in ecstasy. "Oh my sweet a-angel, *hnng*," he gasped, wrapping his arms around you more, pressing his hairy chest against your back as he pushed his hand down on your lower stomach, making you writhe. "Shh don't fight it... it's ok, it's ok."

You nodded, calming down slightly as you tried not to struggle against the overwhelming pleasure. He bucked his hips against you slowly, a soft sigh of contentment leaving him as he closed his eyes, sleepily kissing your neck. "My beautiful wife..."

Your whimpers and his grunts filled the room, mixing beautifully with the soft slapping sound of skin hitting skin and the sticky wetness of his cock sliding in and out of you, creating a beautiful melody of your love. The hand on your tummy slipped down, cupping your pubic bone before his long and skillful fingers found your sensitive bundle of nerves, two fingers rubbing your bud in unhurried circular motions. Your back arched, hips grinding against his hand as he fucked you from behind.

"Sh-Sherlock!" You cried, tears of unbearable pleasure rolling down your cheeks as your bodies moved together.

It stayed like this for a while, sherlock's cock tenderly making love to you while he released soft pleasured noises into your ear, kissing and gasping against the flesh of your neck. His hands didn't stop its minstrations, bringing you closer and closer to your release. "Oh fuck," Sherlock whined, speeding up slightly as he felt the urge to come soon. You sighed softly in pleasure. You loved hearing your husband swear. That meant that he truly was feeling good.

"Gonna come," you managed to whisper, your walls clenching around him tightly. He groaned, panting as his thrusts grew sloppy and his fingers rubbed your sensitive bud with care.

"Come for me." Was the gentle command in your ear and your body willingly obeyed, cumming onto his cock that was buried inside of you.

"Ohhh *y/n*," he sighed in satisfaction, his manhood throbbing and twitching as he came, thick white ropes spurting inside of you. His face was buried against the back of your neck and shoulder, nose pressed against your dewy skin as he caught his breath.

You both laid there together for minutes after, relishing in the intimacy of the moment as he pressed comforting kisses against your head and whispered soothing nothings to you.

Sherlock carefully pulled out of you, feeling his seed drip down your thighs and onto the sheets. He then gingerly turned you around to face him once more, needing to see your beautiful face.

You were quite the sight, flushed cheeks and strands of hair sticking to the sides of your face. He smiled, his eyes crinkling fondly in the corners and his dimples indenting on his cheeks. You smiled sleepily back and cupped his face, thumb rubbing over the curve of his cheekbone.

"Ah darling we should probably clean up after this," he breathed, brushing hair from out of your face.

"You are quite right," was your reply, curling up against his chest as you played with his fingers, feeling the metal band around his slender digit.

"But let us rest for a while," he hummed, large hand rubbing your back as his eyes closed for a moment. You nodded, feeling too exhausted to get up. You had to admit, though, a relaxing morning bath with your husband was a tempting offer. He cracked an eye open, glancing down so he could speak once more, but you were already asleep.

#cherrycolacigs #henry cavill sherlock holmes #henry sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #henry sherlock homes x reader #henry sherlock holmes smut #sherlock holmes x reader smut #enola holmes #henry cavil sherlock holmes x reader #henry cavill

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daisykihannie · 9 hours

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Does Size Matter? (L.MH)

Day 2 of 8 days of kinks: Size Kink (small dom)

pairing: Dom!Minho x Ftm!Reader

warnings: size kink, smut, nsfw, established relationship, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, body worship, oral (receiving), overstimulation, just one slap, begging, etc.

a/n: ngl this is a bit self indulgent as a 182cm muscular Transman but oh well

@chvnlix Day 2: Here

Minho was a bit on the shorter side, being only 172cm tall but size doesn’t matter right? It was just a fact for Minho that he was short, it never really bothered him much as he grew up. Yeah, he got bullied for it as a teenager but he was past all of that right? At least he thought that was the case until he started dating a man who was 182cm tall.

It started to get annoying. The way people would whisper when you two would go on dates together. Muffled voices talking about how his boyfriend was certainly the man in the relationship simply because of his muscular build, broad shoulders, and his height. First of all, they’re in a gay relationship so they were both the man but he also knew that was the socially acceptable way to call him a bottom.

Why the hell were so many people concerned with his sex life? Even scrolling on tiktok took a turn as he saw edit after edit plaguing his for you page. Normally the edits were endearing when speaking about the two of you, how cute you were together, how all the hottest men were gay, etc. but then they suddenly were all about how he was the “baby girl” and how easily you’d be able to manhandle him. Even going as far to call him a fucking Omega and you an Alpha, truly what the fuck stay?

“Hey kitten?” Minho called from where he was seated on the couch in your apartment. You turned away from the counter where you were chopping vegetables for the dinner you were making the two of you to look at him over the kitchen island. “I thought i told you to stop calling me that.” you grumbled and squinted your eyes at him. “oh hush, i know you love it.” he cooed in a teasing tone.

“What’s up my love?” you asked and leaned across the island, propping yourself up on your elbows. The muscles in your biceps and pecs tensed and relaxed as you got comfortable. You were currently shirtless and just wearing an apron and your athletic shorts, it was the middle of summer and it was far too hot to be cooking at the stove and wear anymore than you were. Plus, you knew how much your boyfriend admired your muscles, his size kink and all.

“Why do Stay think I'm a bottom when we are seen together? Does my appearance scream that I take it in the ass or something?” Minho asked and you barked out a laugh at the thought and Minho's bluntness. “First of all, I don't have a dick so there’s no way you could take it up the ass. Unless you have a side piece, do you have a side piece Lee Minho?” you couldn’t help but tease him a bit, he always gave the best reactions.

“You did not just call me by my government name… L/N F/N.” he groaned and tried to give you his best threatening expression but he honestly looked like he was going to cry hearing you call him his real name. “It’s Lee Y/N, thank you very much.” you blew him a kiss and turned back to the pot on the stove, stirring the pasta a bit and flipping the searing beef. “I hope you know that there is no way I could have a side piece, I don’t like people enough and I already have my hands full dealing with you kitten.” he retorted.

You let out an annoyed groan at him using that pet name again, he didn’t need to know that you were getting worked up from it. “Also, you could get a strap. That’s something to take up the ass.” Minho answered and you smirked at that. turning back around to face him. “Is this your way of asking me to fuck you in the ass with my strap? I didn’t think you’d-“ you were cut off by minho shouting “NO I ABSOLUTELY AM NOT ASKING YOU TO FUCK ME- SHUT UP!” his face flushed red either in embarrassment or annoyance. There’s no way in hell your boyfriend would ever bottom, even with your best puppy dog eyes and begging.

“Ugh! can you just answer my question please? Why does EVERYONE think that I'm the bottom in this relationship?” Minho buried his face in his hands and threw his head back against the couch. “Maybe because you’re smaller than me and unbelievably adorable~” you cooed, not even trying to tease him this time. It was a genuine explanation and honestly the only one you could think of considering you’re the only one other than Minho himself who’s aware of your dynamics in the bedroom.

“Seriously? That’s so fucking annoying. It’s not my fault I stopped growing.” Minho grumbled, clearly this whole thing was bothering him more than he let off. Turning off the stove, you moved to sit next to your boyfriend on the couch. “Min baby, does it bother you that much?” you asked with genuine concern. You’re a fixer, if there’s a problem or someone is upset you can’t help but want to fix it and make them feel better. This unfortunately wasn’t a situation you’d be able to fix.

“No… it’s just- i don’t know.” he grumbled and leaned his head against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around yours and snuggled into your side. “Does sir wanna prove he’s not a bottom? Fuck your kitten so good that he can’t walk tomorrow?” you purred into the top of his head and flexed the bicep that he held onto. The growl that ripped from his chest in response had your pussy gushing and eager. “That sounds like a perfect idea babyboy~”

All you did was blink and now you were pinned to the couch cushions with Minho towering over you. He slotted his knee between your legs and used his thigh to apply pressure to your throbbing cocklet. You were already so hard and wet, yet he hasn’t even touched you properly. A small whimper left your lips as you tried to rut against his thigh but ultimately the tiny amount of friction just wasn’t enough. “So needy you wanna use my thigh to get off? You’re such a pathetic slut for me aren’t you? My pretty little slut.” he groaned out and you couldn’t help but preen at his words.

Yes, you might be stronger than Minho physically and larger than him but the way he could easily overpower you and have your brain melting was insane. His presence alone was powerful and his words had a way of making you weak, not that you wanted to fight back in the first place. You are putty in his hands, he owns your heart, your mind, and especially your body. It’s as if you were created with Minho in mind, made to be his other half, made to compliment and complete him.

“m-more…” you moaned out while trying to grind against his thigh, both your hands still pinned to the couch. “What’s that? you’re gonna have to use your words pretty boy.” minho cooed, encouraging you’re already mushy brain to try to work and form actual coherent sentences. “Sir- please… need you so bad.” you whimpered, desperate.

“You already have me baby, i’m all yours and your mine.” minhos response came out in a fond and loving tone, almost sickly sweet. Unfortunately he didn’t move to give you what you were failing to ask for. You were well aware that he knew exactly what you meant but Minho never gave you anything easily, you had to earn his compliance and you weren’t anything if not obedient to him.

“Need your cock sir… need you to fuck me dumb on your cock please please please… fuck- n-need to be split open on Sir’s cock…” you whimpered out, so needy and desperate that you felt like you could cry. You simply had no self control when it came to your boyfriend, it was addicting to be under him and his control like this. The way he fucked you with his eyes, the cat like eyes piercing through you, the taunting smirk on his lips that showed his cute bunny teeth. He was so cute but so fucking evil at the same time and you loved it.

“Good boy~ i guess your brain does work after all. All these muscles but still so so weak for me. My perfect oversized cock sleeve.” His words rushed straight to your cocklet and you couldn’t bite down the moan that rattled out of your throat. His words were painfully true, you were a weak oversized cock sleeve for him and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Minho pulled away from you, earning a whine in protest. You were already slipping so far away that the small amount of space he put between your bodies was too far. While Minho was pre-occupied with removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt, you leaned forward to lick and bite at the pale skin covering his abs. You mouthed at his flesh sloppily, making his perfect skin glisten with your saliva, savoring the taste of sweat on his skin.

Luckily he allowed you to do what was needed to satiate yourself while he stripped, he untied your apron next, throwing it somewhere in the room and moving to remove your shorts and boxers in one move. Once you were both bare he pushed you away from his body, making your back bounce off the plush cushions of the couch momentarily from the sheer force he put into it. You learned a long time ago that his smaller frame was a deception, he was strong as hell even though it wasn’t obvious aside from the size of his muscular thighs.

You whimpered when Minho forced your legs apart, admiring your hardened cocklet and glistening pussy. You hid your face in the crook of your elbow and looked to the side, still insecure about your body and where it was still biologically female. You tried to hide it in the muscles and the masculine results of being on Testosterone for a while. You even got top surgery but you still couldn’t bury the way you hated having a pussy.

“My pretty boy~ so pretty and wet for me. I will never get tired of seeing your hard cock and your leaking pussy. I wish you could see just how pretty you are for me.” He cooed, his words genuine as he worshiped your body. He always made sure to tell you how much he loved the parts you were most insecure about. “Maybe i should show you how much i love it~”

Before you had a chance to register his words in your cotton candy brain, you felt his tongue lapping at the juices flooding out of you, wrapping his pretty lips around your cocklet and letting out a deep guttural groan. “My pretty boys cock always tastes so fucking delicious. I just can’t get enough of how you taste on my tongue.” and Minho was diving in again.

You were a moaning mess under his tongue. Your hands were flailing around, trying to find purchase on something, needing to grip something, anything, to stay on earth while he sucked you off like his life depended on it. At this point, Minho was doing this for his own pleasure, drunk on your taste and the noises you made. “Can’t find anything to hold onto pretty boy? it’s okay to use my hair my love. Feel free to pull on it, use it to ride my face, i can take it.” His voice was thick with his arousal and his chin and nose was soaked with your juices.

Both of your hands carded into his hair and held on tight, the moan he let out sent vibrations straight through your most sensitive parts and you couldn’t help bucking your hips up to meet his tongue. “That’s it, ride my face like a good boy.” he mumbled against your core, the knot in your stomach tightening further. You were close, so painfully close but you didn’t want him to stop and you could tell from the expression on Minhos face as you watched him between your legs that he didn’t want to stop either.

“fuck! cl-close- so fucking close… s’good feels so- nggh!” you cried out and your thighs threatened to camp down on the sides of his head if it weren’t for his hands pining them down to the couch with a bruising grip. Your hips and thighs trembled and the muscles spasmed under his hold but he didn’t pull away or slow down. He stayed buried between your legs, drinking down all of your release with a groan and his eyes fluttering and rolling back in his head slightly as he savored your release on his tongue.

Once you were jolting away from Minho in overstimulation, he finally came out from between your legs and made his way back up your body. “Taste just how delicious you are baby.” He said in a sultry tone, diving in to slot his lips between yours in a wet and sloppy kiss. The kiss was hungry and desperate with teeth clashing together and tongues battling for dominance in the kiss. Minho obviously won and took control of the kiss, his hands pawing at your body as you both swallowed each others moans in the kiss.

He was rutting his hips against your cocklet, his length getting drenched in your fluids and his own saliva as it dragged across your sensitive spots. His head would catch on your entrance a few times but he never pushed in, eliciting heady moans from you as you angled your hips to hopefully get him inside you and failing none the less.

“Min- please… just fuck me already damnit.” you growled, growing impatient with his teasing. “oh? that’s not the way you talk to someone you want something from now is it?” a slap landed to your left cheek, not super hard but enough to sting. A choked moan left your throat, followed by a whimper as you looked up at the man above you with pleading eyes. “p-please baby…” you whined.

“That’s better. Good boy.” he leaned in, taking your lips in his own again and slammed into you, buried to the hilt in one thrust. “God fuck! Always so fucking tight for me.” Minho groaned and began to thrust. He’d pull out almost all the way, leaving just the very tip inside before slamming back in and angling his hips to hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

“This pussy is fucking mine. Got it? No one can ever fuck you like i do. You were made for me. Mine.” Minho grunted out and picked up his pace, still slamming into you as hard as he can everytime. “y-yours. all yours min. Fuck! m-made for you- s’good! fuck me s’good.” you were babbling now, sentences coming out slurred and almost incoherent as you felt the familiar tightening of that knot in your lower stomach.

“Getting fucked so good you can’t even think. All you know is me and my cock. How good i make you feel. My perfect, oversized cock sleeve. Your muscles are fucking useless when I wreck you like this.” Minho became more talkative, a sign he was getting close with the way you clenched around him and the pathetic sounds you let out filling your apartment, loud and uncaring of who heard. They’d know exactly who was the top in this relationship.

“m-min- I- close…” you could barely speak at this point, you could feel your impending orgasm from your toes to your fingers and in your head. You body trembling at the sensitivity as you fought back your climax. “Me too baby, gonna pump you full of my cum. Go ahead and cum for me like a good boy.” Minho growled out, leaning down to be close to your ear and pushing his chest to yours. The added weight to your body combined with his words were all it took to have your orgasm hitting you hard and fast.

Minho continued fucking you through it, filling you up shortly after and riding out his own orgasm. You were trembling underneath him and whining in overstimulation. Minho took a moment, his body collapsed over yours, catching his breath before he had to clean you up. He pulled out with a hiss at the sensitivity of his cock head dragging against your walls that were still spasming. He sat up and watched his cum spill out of you for a moment, taking a picture for his personal collection before going to the bathroom to get a wet wash cloth and cleaning you up.

After you were both clean, he put his own boxers back on before putting you in yours. While you fought sleep, he went to the kitchen to reheat the dinner you were cooking. He made each of you a plate before bringing them to the living room and placing them both on the coffee table, turning on the TV for you both to watch. He lifted you up from where you were laying and tugged you into his side, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to scoop up some food and begging feeding you.

Somehow, you looked small in his hold. The sight of your large muscular body looking small against his clearly smaller frame fueling his size kink further. “I love you so much Y/N, my big baby.” Minho said and placed a kiss to the top of your head while you chewed what he’d fed you. “Love you too Min, so much.” you said with a smile on your face and cheeks still stuffed with pasta.

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