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#another lost moment left on the cutting room floor
javelinbk · 2 months
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The Beatles hire a toboggan, Austria, 14th March 1965. Photo by Roger Fritz.
'Shot on Sunday, March 14th, 1965, this "toboggan hire" scene for Help! was captured outside of Hotel Eidelweiss in Obertauern, Austria, but was eventually cut from the film.'
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader This will make the most sense if you read this first
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Simon is chopping vegetables when the power goes down.
It happens in slow motion. The lights waver, warm yellow glow from the living room lamp trembling before it goes out with the television, along with the bright white glaze of the bulbs in the kitchen. They flicker, they flare, dipping his world into darkness.
Months ago, he might have panicked. His anxiety might have peaked, he would have considered checking the locks, ensuring the shades are drawn, validated any weak points of entry. He would have gone for closest stashed handgun.
But things are different now. His mind doesn't jump to a security breach, or an imminent threat. He doesn't consider his consider his "go bag", he doesn't reach for his "work" phone.
Instead, he only thinks of you.
He raises his voice to ensure it reaches you through the flat. "Think we lost power."
"Simon!" Your voice is drenched in fear, the two syllables of his name dripping in it, white flash of panic just on the edge, and the knife goes down easy on the cutting board, carrots and celery nearly finished, electric burners on the stove turning from red to black. Candles. There are candles in here somewhere, aren't there? And flashlights.
"Sweetheart?" The flashlight on his cell clicks on, and he double checks the knife is safely away from the edge of the counter. He calls your name, waiting for a response, for an acknowledgment from Emma's room, where the door is open with his girls inside, one of them fresh out of the bath and hopefully, nearly asleep.
There's no answer. He sweeps the flashlight across the ground, hoping to avoid blinding you or Emmaline, working his way closer to the pitch black doorway. The space in his mind that was calm a moment ago, now begins to spiral. Why aren't you answering him? "Honey? You alright?"
Emma begins to cry. It's not her hungry cry, or her full nappy cry, or her attention cry, but something else, something scared. Distressed.
He's in the room with the flashlight pointed at the ceiling to ensure it bounces off the white paint and around the four walls within a second, heart now hammering in his chest, and when he finds you, spine stiff, eyes peeled wide in terror, something in him breaks.
You're standing in front of the crib, Emmaline cradled tightly in your arms, rapid rise and fall of your chest too fast, too uncontrolled, your usual whimsical, effortless beauty marred by a grim absence, your body frozen into a cage around the baby, empty gaze locked on the floor.
He recognizes it immediately. Knows it too well, knows it in himself better than anything else, a cursory reaction pushing him forward- his touch over yours, his hands supporting Emma's weight. You gasp into him, wild, staggered breaths that make his stomach twist, and he rubs a soothing palm down your spine. "It's okay." He coos. "You're okay, just breathe. I'm here. You're safe, mama, I've got you." Emma hollers, confused and scared, and he pulls her into his chest, holding her there with one arm, another still tethered to you, trying to jog you back to yourself, to your body. To him. "Just breathe, sweetheart. You're alright, take a big breath."
It doesn't work, and he can't do both, so he makes a split second decision, one he hopes doesn't make everything worse. "I know, baby girl. I know. Mama's alright, she's okay." He bounces Emma, relaxing a fraction when her crying settles, and then leans in to cup your cheek, tipping your face up to his. "I'm going to put her in the living room, honey. In the pack and play, okay? I'll be right back. Jus' keep breathing." You give him nothing except for an attempt at a deeper inhale, and he soothes Emma with a close cuddle, finding your phone and pulling it from the dresser to make sure the baby isn't left alone in the dark.
She goes into the little pen in the living room so easily, already nearly asleep again, and he pats her back for a moment, ensuring she's comfortable before running into the room, back to you.
You're blinking now, cheeks wet and shining in the dark, breathing a bit less haggard, and it kills him, haunts him, to see you so terrified, so lost in your own head. "Hey sweetheart. Can you hear me?" He touches you carefully, intentionally, the lack of resistance encouraging to the point he feels confident enough to hold you, cradling your head against his chest, curled over your body like a shield.
"Si-Simon." Your fingers tighten into his side.
"It's me. I'm here, I've got you."
"Em..."
"She's in the next room. She's okay." He smooths a palm over your temple, into your hair. "Let's take a look at you, sweet girl, can we do that? Can you look at me?" You tilt back, eyes and lids sluggish, but with it, conscious, and the anxious knot in his heart relaxes slightly.
"The lights." You stammer, and he nods.
"The electric went out. Did it scare you?" You give him a confused look, like you didn't hear him, or didn't understand. He strokes a thumb across your tear stained cheek and repeats himself. "It's okay, did the dark give you a fright?"
"N-no. Not..." You shake with the denial. "It's... is there a fire?"... what? He cocks his head. A fire?
Oh.
Oh.
His sweet, sweet girl. Not afraid of the dark, only lost and tormented by your grief. Terrified of losing again, trapped in a nightmare that is all too familiar to him.
"No, there's no fire, angel. I'm right here. I'm here, with you." He uncurls your frozen fingers to splay them flat against his chest, over where his heart thumps steadily, covering it with his own. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
"You promise." You croak, and he hums, rocking you slowly, gently swaying in the dim light of the phone's flashlight.
"I promise." He swallows the shiver in his voice, burying his nose atop your hair, holding you as tightly as he can. "I swear. Nothing could keep me from you, nothing. Remember?" You rasp out a yeah, feathery soft and feeble, and he kisses the crown of your head, sweet and slow, rubbing your back, your shoulders, kneading the tension from your muscles until the glaze of your panic fades, somber expression tightening across your face. "None of that." He whispers, because he knows what you'll say, he know how you'll try to apologize, try to explain it. "I know, sweetheart. I know."
He gets you folded up on the couch in his arms after locating and lighting most of the candles, setting up a few flashlights in the bathroom and bedroom, collection of mix matched scents littering the coffee table. You're weepy and exhausted, watching Emma sleep in the pack and play, her blissful little face sugar plum sweet as she dreams, and he tucks you into his chest, laying you down, facing her, mouth pressing little kisses to your temple, your cheek, your ear.
"Close your eyes." He encourages when you yawn. "You can sleep. I just want to hold you." The fireplace pops, and you crack an eyelid wide.
"She might wake up." You mumble.
"I know, I'll get her." He soothes, and you wilt, easily reassured by him, something that makes his chest swell with pride. He keeps his fingers moving, stroking across your skin, settling you into twilight, and just as you slip into your own dreams, he whispers a final testament, something he carries with him, every second of every day. "I've got you. I've got you both."
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lovebugism · 3 months
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I positively adore steeb and shy!reader 🥹 can I please request steve comforting shy!reader after her first experience with the upside down? he just vows to take care of her?
ty for requesting!! — steve takes care of you when you won't let anyone touch you after fighting vecna (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, friends in love, cw for mentions of bruises/injuries, 0.9k)
Hawkins Memorial Hospital smells overwhelmingly of bleach and very faintly of copper. You think the last bit might just be you, though. The scent of metallic blood and alternate-dimension muck hasn’t quite left you — even though you’ve scrubbed yourself raw in the shower, three times over.
You sit in Max’s vacant room while she’s out for surgery. Everyone else is either sleeping off the grief or getting themselves checked out. You can’t do either — too plagued by nightmares and too frightened at what the doctors might find if they look at you too close.
Steve finds you in the dim room, lit only by natural sunlight, standing in front of the small square mirror against the wall. You get lost in the splotchy bruises on your face until he knocks gently on the cracked open door. 
“Hey…” he greets, gently to keep from startling you.
You swallow down the fleeting panic. “Oh. Hi.”
“I, uh, I brought you some ice,” he tells you and steps further into the room, waving a plastic bag of chipped ice in his hand. “I saw you flinch when you wrapped up Dustin’s ankle. I figured your shoulder was bothering you…”
He’s visibly shy, but you’re impossibly shier. The deafening quiet and the proximity of your bodies are equally suffocating. You cower beneath the weight of it, wringing your clammy, cut-up hands together. “I’m— I’m fine. Thanks…”
Steve flashes you a wavering smile, lopsided and perfectly pink. He forces a laugh through an aching chest because you haven’t talked about what happened since you got back. He figured it was normal at first — that you were still grappling with the whole fighting monsters thing, but you haven’t let anyone touch you in days. The doctors have been begging to look you over since you got here.
“I just… I wanna help,” he confesses.
A pleading look swims in the deep honey of his eyes. It becomes impossible to turn him down. You’d have an easier time fighting Vecna, you think.
You swallow hard. “It’s… It’s my back,” you shrug, then grimace when the movement makes you ache.
You’d fallen through the decrepit floor of the Creel house and landed hard in the basement. The vines slithering there broke your fall. For the most part, anyway. The damn things would have swallowed you whole if Steve hadn’t been brave enough to jump in after you. 
“Can I see?” he wonders.
You hesitate for a moment. “I haven’t really— looked at it yet,” you murmur with a pained look twisting your features. You turn around when Steve approaches you. You feel his warm fingers along your back, knuckles skimming over your skin as he lifts your shirt with a slow and gentle touch — giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.
When you don’t, he raises the fabric to the middle of your spine. The entire canvas of your back is darkened with a hardly healing bruise. The sight of it makes him grimace. “Jeez…” he mumbles before he means to.
Your brows pinch. “Is it bad?”
“We’re gonna need a lot more ice,” he answers with a forced laugh.
You giggle at his half-joke. The pretty sound makes him smile.
“You should probably see a doctor—”
“No,” you interject with a firm shake of your head, sterner than he’s ever seen you.
“But it’s— It’s kinda gnarly—”
“I’m fine,” you insist, despite the bruises darkening your skin. You turn back around to face him and avert your gaze at the pitiful look he gives you. You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a wince. “I’m okay, Steve. There’s other people to worry about right now.”
Max, for one. And all the rest of the kids for another. And the rest of the town who lost something in the earthquakes. You got off pretty lucky, all things considered — just a couple of bruises. And a cut or two. And some pretty gnarly nightmares. But that’s it.
Steve’s lip quirks in a sympathetic smile. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”
He urges you to the made-up hospital bed with a hand hovering over your lower back. Your perch on the side of it, one leg curled beneath you, as Steve slides in behind you. He raises the hem of your shirt and presses the icepack against your shoulder blade, where the bruises seem darkest. His touch is gentle and feather-light, almost comically so. The bag of ice just barely grazes you.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
You nod. “Yeah… Thanks.”
His hand grows heavier when his touch becomes more confident. The stinging of the cold soothes the deep ache in your shoulder.
“No problem,” he says before swallowing down the nerves crawling up his throat. “I’m always here, you know? If you ever need anything.”
You exhale a sharp laugh through your nose. “I feel like you have better things to do than take care of me,” you murmur, wringing your hands into a knot in your lap.
“Well, I don’t.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What?” he scoffs. “That I’d rather dote on you than do anything else?”
“Yeah,” you laugh and shoot him a playful look over your shoulder. You smile when you find him already grinning at you.
“Well, believe it, alright? ‘Cause you’re stuck with me now.”
“Am I?”
“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.
“We fought monsters together, and now we’re bonded for life?”
“Exactly.”
You flash him another glance, eyes glittering as you bite back a beaming grin. “Sounds miserable,” you tease.
Steve nods with a crooked smile. “Absolutely horrible.” 
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targaryen-dynasty · 10 months
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MINE.
Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, rough oral sex (face fucking), degrading, humiliating, size kink, size difference, corruption kink, possessiveness, jealousy, female Reader
WORDS: 1.3 K
NOTES: This is written for my Maegor hoes @borikenlove and @fairysluna. No plot, just porn.
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You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have taken Lord Westerling’s hand to dance with him–not when your uncle Maegor was sitting at the same table on the dais, having the perfect view of the designated dance floor in the center of the Throne Room. 
That he was protective–and possessive–of you wasn’t a secret to anyone, much to your father’s dismay, but the King was far too weak to stand a chance against his half-brother anyways.
It was surprising that Maegor hadn’t drawn his sword right away to cut off his head, but what surprised you more was that he simply left the feast without so much sparing you another glance. 
Until you came back to your chambers to spot him sitting on your bed, bulky frame barely illuminated by the soft glow of the candles around him. 
And that was the moment it truly settled what you had done. 
He was calm, a bit too calm for your liking, whereas you were fuming. His stance was smug, matching the smirk on his lips that only seemed to grow wider when he noticed the anger blazing in your eyes. 
You were the smallest and the youngest one of your siblings, and while Maegor sat on the bed, you were barely taller than him, lilac eyes meeting without him having to crane his neck. 
“When do you understand that I do not belong to you, uncle?” You balled your hands to fists at your sides, the knuckles turning white from the force you used. It was a desperate attempt to try to have Maegor take you seriously and erase the smug smirk off his face, but it did not work, a frustrated sigh falling past your lips.
All you wanted was for him to either claim you openly as his wife or leave you alone for good. 
His facial expression changed ever so subtly, it was barely noticeable to anyone that didn’t know him as good as you did, and when he moved to stand up, you knew your attitude had overstepped his limits. He was angry, and gone were your chances of finally getting what you’d craved for so long. 
His jaw was tense, and you were certain his teeth had to give in at any given moment from how tightly he clenched it. 
There was no gap between your bodies, his bull-like frame taking up most of the space, and when he entangled his paw in your silver tresses to yank your head back roughly, you were forced to look up at him. 
Your insides quivered with his tall frame looming over yours, fury blazing in the pool of lilac you always got lost in. 
“Listen, you insolent brat,” his voice dropped a few octaves lower, his hot breath ghosting over your flushed face. It seemed fucked up to you that, despite his threatening and intimidating behavior, Maegor still looked like he had been forged by the Seven themselves, his posture radiating nothing else than sheer confidence and dominance. 
“You are mine, if you like it or not,” he snarled, “and you will be mine forever.” There was not an ounce of smugness or amusement in the baritone of his voice, the sharpness of it causing goosebumps to prickle on your pale skin. 
You hadn’t even realized that Maegor had backed you up against the wall, herding you to where he wanted you, only noticing when you tried to take a step back to get out of his suffocating proximity, and bumped against a chest of drawers. 
“On your knees. Now .“ It wasn’t a question, it was a command that wasn’t up to debate. Nothing could arouse Maegor Targaryen more than watching his niece obediently sink to her knees in front of him. He simply enjoyed seeing you completely at his mercy, watching you push and bend your own limits to satisfy him. You were a pawn to him, only good to fulfill his darkest desires. 
Maegor wrapped the long tresses of your mane around the palm of your hand, pulling even the thinnest of strands back to not allow anything to conceal your innocent features. 
Your fingers were trembling, and you had trouble undoing the laces in the front of his breeches, especially once you noticed how persistent his hard member pressed against its confines already. 
Tugging his breeches and underclothes down enough to merely free his cock and stones, you gasped as it hoisted upwards and stood to full attention. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, and you could swear you already felt tears brimming in them by just thinking about the familiar stretch in the back of your throat that came with pleasuring him. 
“Don’t act so coy now,” he barked, and urged your head towards his cock. You nodded meekly, hesitantly fisting the base of him to kittenlick your way over the vein on the underside of his member up to the tip. 
As you wrapped your lips around the bulbous tip, Maegor wasted no time and not-so-gently bucked his hips to meet the back of your throat in one, swift thrust. His other paw cupped your chin with his digits digging into your cheeks, forcing you to hollow your cheeks and keep your mouth open so you were able to take him deep enough for your nose to nuzzle against his lower stomach. 
“Mhhm,“ the content hum filled your ears. Maegor was practically purring, and you felt your arousal slowly dripping down your legs, “you take my cock so well, niece.” 
The twitching of his cock indicated that he was reveling in the sputtering and choking noises you made as you remembered just how big he was, his cock definitely matching his body, and your gag reflex hadn’t been tested this hard before. 
Maegor was in a generous mood as he allowed you to pull back enough to draw some air again, filling your lungs before sinking back down on him. 
Your small hand wrapped around his cock to stroke him in rhythm with your mouth, pleasuring the rest of him that didn’t fit inside without being uncomfortable. Your other hand started to fondle the sack of his stones, and you were far too tempted to pull back and lick them instead. 
You were stopping before your nose could nuzzle against his lower stomach again, flickering your lilac eyes up to meet his dark blown ones. “I know you can take me deeper than that, niece,“ he encouraged in a stern manner, and a firm palm on the back of your head was quick to nudge you further, “that’s it, just like that.“
But just like always, you weren’t fast enough for him, his impatience getting the worst of him. 
Maegor used the grip on your hair to pull your head back and shove it right down his throbbing length again, bucking his hips into your mouth to meet the back of your throat halfway. Your jaw ached ever since you wrapped your lips around him, and tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, brimming quickly. Your vision of Maegor’s smug smirk faded to a blur of silver hair and rippling muscles. 
With a particularly harsh thrust of him, the tears bursted and ran down your flushed cheeks, causing embarrassment to burn through your veins. Maegor groaned as he watched the trails of your tears coursing down your pale skin, running down to the low cut neckline of your gown. 
“Look at you,” he groaned, thrusting frantically into your mouth, “you look so ravishing when you’re choking on my cock.” And since his voice sounded much more strained than before, you knew he was on the verge of his peak. 
With his tight grip on your face and hair, you had no choice than to choke helplessly around his girth, surrendering to his strength until he grasped your hair between his fingers and yanked your head back and off of him. 
A string of your saliva connected his cock to your swollen lips, and you looked up at him with blurry eyes and an aching for more that had settled at the apex of your legs. 
“On the bed,” he commanded. “I will not spend my seed down that useless throat of yours.”
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hd-junglebook · 15 days
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Its Always Been You
Part 4 / Word Count 5816
Masterlist
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Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.
In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.
"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  
"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."
Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.
Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.
The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.
"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."
"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.
Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.
It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.
He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.
The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.
Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.
"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.
"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.
Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.
Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.
Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.
The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.
The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.
"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.
She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.
y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.
Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.
Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.
As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.
Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.
She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.
Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.
Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.
In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.
Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.
She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.
Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.
Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.
Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.
As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.
"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.
Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.
The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.
From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.
Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."
She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.
Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.
The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.
All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.
Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.
He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.
"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.
Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.
Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.
He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"
Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."
She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."
With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.
But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.
As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.
But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.
So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.
Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.
"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.
Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.
Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.
He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.
"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.
The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.
Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.
they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.
Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."
Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."
But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."
She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."
For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.
"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."
With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.
The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.
She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.
Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.
On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.
Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.
She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.
Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.
His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.
As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.
His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.
Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.
Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.
She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.
Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.
Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.
The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.
She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.
There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.
Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.
"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.
Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."
He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.
Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.
Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."
Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."
Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.
Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.
But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.
"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.
Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.
"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?
Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.
For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.
Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."
Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.
As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.
Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.
Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.
Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.
She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.
Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.
Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.
In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.
With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.
"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."
Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"
Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."
Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.
"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."
Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."
Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.
Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.
"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.
With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."
Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.
"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."
Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.
Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.
"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."
Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.
"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.
"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."
Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."
Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"
Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."
Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"
Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.
Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”
Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."
"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?
Tag List <3
@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis
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piratefishmama · 6 months
Text
Nest | Part 16
A Steddie A/B/O ficlet
“WHAT THE HELL KIND OF OPERATION ARE YOU RUNNIN HERE?!”
Steve felt… numb. He was tired. He was hungry. He felt… lost. It’d happened so fast.
No amount of rational thought could have fixed the conclusion Eddie’s confused mind had come to. No explanation could have cut through the panic, the fear, the pain, that radiated from the omega, the air that’d been filled with such a sweet desire replaced far quicker with pain, anger, confusion and fear he’d been choking on it, the air vents unable to clear it quick enough, he’d been struggling to talk, struggling to breathe when the doors had opened.
Security had gotten him out. A Beta dragged him out by the scruff of his shirt while another two worked to keep Eddie's panicked, inconsolable self corralled away from him.
It happened so quickly. And now he sat there, his back against the wall, sat on the floor, head in his arms, a patch on his neck to mask the stank of Alpha negativity that'd undoubtedly have choked anyone in his immediate vicinity, a scrap of fabric in his hand, and Robin beside him, unusually quiet, her arm wrapped around his shoulders as they listened to the eldest Munson react as any guardian would in this situation.
He’d left his nephew at a clinic to be taken care of, under medical advisement, had undoubtedly spent the majority of the week worried sick, and then receive a call from clinic security claiming something had gone wrong. Wayne Munson had turned up in a rusted old pick up truck that screeched as it pulled up into the carpark ten minutes after security had completely ignored Owens's instructions to leave it alone, and did their job in contacting him.
nobody could blame them, it was their job to contact Eddie's next of kin should something go wrong.
It all happened so fast.
He couldn’t see Eddie. Eddie who was still in recovery, Eddie who still needed him. Eddie, who wasn’t done with his heat yet and needed to be taken care of and soothed by his alpha for at least another day or so, it wasn’t healthy to cut it short there.
Eddie still needed him. He could go into another spiral, he could hurt himself, he could—
He couldn’t hear Owens replies, could only hear Wayne Munson, the man rightfully furious that they’d allowed an alpha into his nephews room when the man was at his most vulnerable. It didn’t matter that Eddie was a grown adult man, it didn’t matter that he didn’t need a guardian.
And it didn’t matter that nothing had happened. Eddie thought something had, and in the state he was in, nothing could convince him otherwise.
The door opened, both Steve and Robin looked up in unison, both shrinking back as Wayne looked down at them both with understandable fury, nothing they could even argue against, and turned to Owens with a clipped “I want my nephew here in two minutes ready to go” Owens opened his mouth to argue, hell Steve opened his mouth to argue but Wayne simply held up his hand cutting them both off, “I don’t give two flyin fucks what you lot think, my nephew is coming home. Now. The worst is over, I’ll handle the rest.” Steve shrunk back under his harsh glare, too exhausted to formulate a reason as to why that was a bad idea.
It’d be fine. Wayne was family. The worst was over he was right, and sure the next twenty four to forty eight hours could go in either direction, he had to trust that Wayne could handle it.
That didn’t stop him from scrambling to his feet the moment Wayne turned to walk away though, desperation in the voice he barely managed to find “W-wait! Wait, please… Mr. Munson, I swear… I didn’t hurt him, an I know—I know that’s hard to believe, I get that, but—but could you… could you give him this, at least just—it’ll help, it’ll help him” Wayne looked at him through cold eyes, his expression damn near thunderous, silent for a moment, he dipped his gaze to the scrap of fabric in Steve’s hands, the towel.
Just a little towel.
A towel Eddie had clung to throughout the night, so close to his face, a comfort. Something still drenched in Steve. Wayne looked down at it with narrowed eyes and for a moment, Steve thought he’d refuse.
That he’d shoot him down without mercy, but something in him just couldn’t seem to do that.
That cold gaze softened, just a little, his shoulders relaxed as if acceptance had won some kind of internal battle inside of him, then wordlessly he took the towel with a subtle nod, and made his way out to wait at the front.
Security would bring Eddie out. He wasn’t a danger to anyone but himself in the final stage, not really. The final stage of a heat was just… recovery. An Omega needed comfort, they needed something or someone familiar, in shared heat situations they needed their alpha to take care of them or they could spiral.
They needed to be pampered. To be reassured. To be loved.
Every fibre of Steve’s being ached to be the person doing that for Eddie. He felt untethered. Unmoored, lost. He needed to be doing something, but he couldn’t and there was nothing even close to that something to fill the gap not doing it left behind.
He didn’t even get to say goodbye. Barely caught a glimpse of the Omega as he was guided through the barren halls toward the exit, dressed in clothes that’d no doubt be uncomfortable, itchy, scratchy on his sensitive skin, his head down never once looking up, never once looking his way.
The halls had been cleared of staff for Eddie’s safety. He still smelled like an Omega in heat.
It shouldn’t have happened like that. Eddie should have still been in his room, should have been able to wake up peacefully in his nest, should have woken up to a warm, comforting embrace, but instead it’d been panic. Fear, and confusion and Steve didn’t even know if it’d been avoidable.
Maybe if another alpha had been there, maybe if it wasn’t him. Maybe everything would have progressed as it normally should have.
“Go home Steve” Owens placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, voice so soft Steve barely caught it. “You should uh… take some time off, okay?” Steve barely managed to tear his gaze away from the doors Eddie had walked through, but when he did it was with eyes full of unspoken panic. “You’re not in trouble, Steve. We kept watch all night you… you’re an exemplary Alpha, truly a credit to your kind… your self-restraint is… well, I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it for myself, but I think it's best if you still take some time off. Use some of those holiday days you’ve built up, paid, of course, I think two weeks should cover it.”
“But—”
Owens held up his hand to silence him, before turning to Robin, who’d been doing her best to keep Steve grounded with her presence alone. It worked. Kind of. He wasn’t stinking up the hallway, but that could have probably been due to the patch covering his scent glands rather than anything she was doing. “Miss Buckley, take him home would you?”
“I uh… I can’t drive but—but sure, yeah, I’ll uhm, I’ll get him home. Should I come right back, orr—”
“Take the rest of the day. You’ve earned it.” She hadn't actually gone home much like Owens, so technically she'd have been due to start a new shift in around half an hour, but... alright.
And then he was gone, walking back into his office, and closing the door behind him, leaving both Robin and Steve alone in the hallway, none-the-wiser about what he was going to be getting up to in there, but neither having enough energy to really care.
“I told him after his heat we could… that we could—” be together, that all Eddie had to do was wait one more day, one more. And they could be together, that it’d be okay then… “I promised him, Robbie…”
“I know, Stevie… let’s just get you home.”
"...Okay." As if he had any other choice.
Part 18
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webslinger-holland · 1 year
Text
Another Dream | Kaz Brekker
Summary: In which Kaz reveals what his true dream is.
Warning: slight angst...its short...and major fluff near the end
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader
Type: Oneshot
Word Count: 1.9k
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The chapel hadn’t sustained much damage from the battle. A few wooden pews ended up getting pushed and overturned. A few shards of glass scattered across the floor from broken windows. Yet, the stainless window remained absolutely untouched. The image of the Saint Sun Summoner cast colorful rays of light onto the stone floor.
At the given moment, Y/n was sitting on the edge of one of the pews. Her eyes remained on the saint in front of her. She had never been the religious type; she often left Inej be the expert in that area. But she found comfort in sitting in the small chapel.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour ago when they almost lost their lives to the shadow monster they encountered in that very room. The crows had done risky jobs in the past, but none of them involved looking death right in the eye like they just did. She was still shaken up from the whole ordeal.
The familiar sound of a cane clicking against the stone floor could be heard behind her. The leader of the crows was making his way down the center aisle of the church, coming to a halt slightly behind the pew she sat in. She did not turn her head to address him.
“Lantsov paid up,” Kaz had come to tell her. “Everyone will get their cut.”
“Good,” Y/n nodded once. She looked over her shoulder, resting a hand on the back of the pew. “And Nina?” 
“She’ll receive a pardon for deserting and another for her Fjerdan. As long as he stays out of trouble, the charges will be dropped.” Kaz explained.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Y/n let out a sigh. She went to turn back around in her place. Her eyes naturally gravitating to the stain glass window once again.
Unbeknownst to her, Kaz began staring at her through the corner of his eyes. He felt his heart tighten in the confines of his chest upon just looking at her. He spent so many years admiring her from a distance, never being able to find the courage to act on the feelings in his heart.
He had known for a very long time that she did not want to stay in Ketterdam. There were too many painful memories to give her reason to stick around. She always loved to travel anyway. She wanted to move west as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Now that the fold had been destroyed and the job was complete, there was nothing preventing her from moving far away.
Just by looking at her, Kaz could tell that her mind was in a different place at the given moment. She was probably already planning about the adventure she’d be on, the journey across the sea, and the exploration of a new land. She’d be thinking about how great it would be to leave Ketterdam behind, along with him. 
Under the notion that the two of them would have very little time left together, Kaz tried being slightly sentimental for once in his life. He racked his brain for something that meant worthwhile and heartfelt.
“I also...” Kaz’s voice trailed off. “Wanted to say goodbye.”
“Oh,” Y/n said sadly. 
“Since I assume you’ll be leaving as soon as you find a ship,” Kaz predicted. She nodded her head at this. “As you should. It’s what you’ve always dreamed about,” Kaz said in an almost harsh tone. It sounded mocking.
“Well, what do you want me to say?” Y/n responded in retort. She spun around in the small wooden pew, staring at him with a strong him of confusion in her eyes. “What would you have me do? Stay in Ketterdam?” Y/n persisted.
In response, Kaz went to turn his head away from her to avoid eye contact at all costs. He wanted nothing more than to slip behind the facade he held, void of all emotions if he could help it. His face was blank as if she hadn’t just expressed the one thing he desired the most. Having her stay in Ketterdam.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a dream,” Y/n scoffed at his stone cold expression. She faced forward once more. What followed was a moment of pure silence.
With a haunting past, Kaz Brekker was cursed with torturous nightmares most nights. However, on the rare nights that he had dreams, he always dreamed of her and absolutely nothing else. His imagination would run wild of the endless possibilities they could share together.
In his dreams, Kaz would find himself stroking up and down her bare back with his own hand. There’d be no gloves. No urge to pull away at contact. No memory of his past. It was just the two of them together. 
They would spend hours together in bed. He’d brush her hair away from her neck to grant him access. He’d burrow his face into the crook of her neck, placing the most delicate kisses along her kiss. He loved hearing the sound of her sighs in his dreams. 
He could see it all now. Her body lay underneath his. Her delicate hand trailing up the length of his chest, stopping to linger at his heart. He take her hand in his own and give it a gentle squeeze before leaning down to capture her lips.
His dreams wanted them to be together. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her until she forgot her own name. Being brought back to reality became his nightmare. He came to realize that he’d never be able to have that and his dreams would never come true. His armor was still in place and she’d be leaving soon anyways.
After the moment of silence, Y/n had tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to look at him through her peripheral vision. She grew curious. Her mouth parted to ask a question.
“What is your dream, Kaz Brekker?” Y/n wondered.
Slowly, Y/n turned around in her place. She looked at him expectedly, patiently awaiting for his answer. She quirked her eyebrows to show her curiosity. He studied her face for a moment. He thought about his choice of words, struggling to express his true emotions. 
The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Y/n. You.
For a second, Kaz opened his mouth, but no words came out of his mouth. He was so close to confessing his true feelings to her. However, the fear quickly overtook him. He resorted to fortifying himself behind his walls again. He quickly tore his gaze away from her.
“To die, buried under the weight of my own gold.” Kaz claimed. 
She faced forward. She felt herself rolling her eyes at his answer, even scoffing under her breath. She couldn’t believe him. 
“More money. More scores to settle,” Y/n deduced. She quickly rose to her feet, which only took him by surprise. She went to approach him. “Was there never another dream?” Y/n tried one final time.
The silence to follow was enough reason to leave. She went to brush past him with the intent of walking away and never looking back. But as she began to walk away from him, Kaz reached out to grab onto her wrist. He stopped her.
“Stay,” Kaz pleaded. His voice was rough stone. “Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.”
Slowly, Y/n shifted her body to face him She briefly glanced down at the gloved hand which held her wrist captive. Her gaze shifted back to the look of desperation in his eyes, silently pleading for her to stay for his own sake. She could feel the tears begin to gather in the corners of her eyes.
“What would be the point?” Y/n whispered. She shook her head at the notion.
He only drew closer to her. He refused to look away from her now, knowing that if he did, he might lose her forever. He took a breath. 
“I want you to,” Kaz confessed truthfully. He saw the look in her eyes change slightly. She was taken back by this. He needed to make himself clearer. “I want...I want...you,” Kaz confirmed.
The two of them didn’t seem to realize how close they had gotten to one another. Their chests were pressed together and they were able to feel another’s breath fanning their faces. Either of them had been so close to anyone before. 
With great hesitation, Y/n had lifted her head to stare directly into those brilliant green eyes. She felt the tears streaming down the slides of her cheeks. She shook her head at his words.
“And how will you have me?” Y/n wondered in a soft whisper. “Gloves on? Fully clothed? With your head turned so our lips never--” but she was never able to finish that sentence.
Because the rest of her words were lost against his mouth. He had grabbed her face with his two gloved hands and pulled her into a captivating kiss. He kept his eyes squeezed shut so tightly as if he was trying to silence the voices in his head. He felt sparks of lightning tingling against his lips, knowing his mind was screaming for him to pull away. But he didn’t want to.
Yet, he kissed her so gently and carefully in fear of losing her forever. He felt her body begin to relax in his grasp. She gripped the lapels of his black trench coat, pulling him harder against her if that was even possible. His arms had shifted to circle around her waist, gathering her body against him.
A hint of pressure only caused a most delicate hum to escape past her lips, muffled against his mouth. If he could bottle the sound and get drunk on it every night, he would have without question. Their lips moved together in a synchronized harmony as if they were two puzzle pieces made to fit together.
The kiss had brought a newfound sense of warmth and comfort to his old stone heart. The memories of his brother, which were often brought from contact, hadn’t plagued his mind. He focused on the feeling the softness of her lips, how she tasted, and how she felt agains him. 
She couldn't believe what was happening. Even she had dreamed about what it would be like to touch him, but never so far as kiss him. He tasted like the expensive liquor from his flask, which he always kept in his coat pocket. His lips moved compellingly against hers as if they were fighting to persuade her to stay. And it was working.
With great reluctance, their lips parted ever so slightly from one another. Their breath held without thinking. The suspense in the air was caught at the top of their throats. 
The two of them had leaned forward to rest their heads against one another’s. They panted softly to regain their breath. They remained so close to one another that their noses brushed against each others. They stare down at each other’s lips, tempted to continue.
“You...” Kaz panted. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek lovingly, staring into the depths of her eyes. “You are my dream. You always have been.”
Upon hearing those words, Y/n felt any tension leave her body and she finally relaxed. She felt a small smile growing at the corners of her lips. She closed her eyes to savor those precious little words.
“Stay with me,” Kaz pleaded one last time. He nudged his nose against hers as if trying to persuade her and it was working. “Stay for me, my dear.” Kaz whispered.
She had never heard him speak so desperately. Though he was a master at crafting a lie, she knew him well enough to know that he’d never lie about his feelings. He wanted her and he was asking her to stay with him. 
Her eyes glanced between his own and his mouth. “I’ll stay...for you,” Y/n agreed.
Upon hearing this, Kaz felt like his dreams had finally come true. He inclined his face towards hers so that he could lay his lips against her own once again. He pulled her body as close to his as humanly possible, now knowing that he’d never have to let go. She was finally his.
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waltermis · 5 months
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Stay, Stay, Stay
Summary: You & Natasha share a comforting moment
Warnings: hurt/comfort
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader (romantic)
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NATASHA!! ❤️❤️
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↠↠↠ 
Natasha sighed, cutting her peanut butter sandwich. She listened to Rocket, Nebula, and the rest of the remaining avengers argue from across the universe. It’s been five years since the snap. Five years since Thanos. Five years since the Avengers officially split up. Five years since she lost Yelena. Five years since everything… But no matter how much time passed, she couldn’t let this life go. 
“Carol, are we seeing you here next month?”
“Not likely,”
“What? You gonna get another haircut?” Rocket teased.
“Listen, fur face. I’m covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere. On thousands of planets.”
“Uh, all right. All right. That’s a good point. That’s a good point.”
“So, you might not see me for a long time.” 
“All right. Uh well, this channel's always active. So, if anything goes sideways… anyone’s making trouble where they shouldn’t… comes through me.” Natasha stated, before Rocket, Okoye, Carol’s channels disappeared, leaving Rhodey. “Where are you?” she asked him.
“Mexico. The Federales found a room full of bodies. Looks like a bunch of cartel guys never even had a chance to get their guns off.”
“It’s probably a rival gang,” Natasha denied quickly.
“Except it isn’t. It’s definitely Barton… what he’s done here, what he’s been doing for the last few years. I mean, the scene that he left…I gotta tell you there’s a part of me that doesn’t even want to find him.”
“Will you find out where he’s going next?” she asked, taking a bit of her sandwich, tears filling her eyes, threatening to spill.
“Nat?”
“Please?” she asked, quietly. She looked so vulnerable, her eyes glassy and nose red from holding back tears.
“Okay,” he sighed, before leaving the channel.
Natasha sighed, trying her hardest not to cry. She missed him, Clint, he was her best friend. One of the first few people that truly trusted her. When she met Clint’s family, they welcomed her in with open arms. They were like her second family; finding out that they were blipped broke her heart. She couldn’t imagine what Clint was going through. 
‘God, this is a fucking mess.’ She thought, wrapping her arms around herself. Taking a bite out of her sad excuse of a sandwich, Natasha’s senses picked up the sound of wheels rolling against the hardwood floor. Natasha furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, watching you hauling two big blue luggage, she’s never seen before, through the common room. “Moya lyubov’, where are you going?” You ignored her, continuing to grab the luggage’s outside. “Detka? Are you okay?!” Still nothing. Natasha began to panic; thoughts of you finally realizing that you deserved better clawed their way into her brain. “Dorogaya? Can we talk about this? Please!”
“Babe?” you asked, coming back. “What’re you doing in here? I thought you were gonna use Meeting room A today… W-why’re you crying?” you asked, wrapping her up in your arms. She didn’t even notice the tears that streamed down her face. 
“Please don’t leave me! I promise I’ll spend more time with you, just please don’t go…” she cried into your chest, her words muffled as she tugged you into her, her grip tight.
“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere,”
“Then why are you taking your luggage outside?!” she wailed, her nails digging further into you, afraid that you’d leave the second she loosened her grip.
“What? Those aren’t mine.”
“Huh?” she sobbed out. “Then whose are those?”
“They’re Tony’s, from when he and Pepper used to live here. They still have a bit of stuff here they haven’t moved to the cabin yet, he wanted me to finally bring it over for him.” you explained slowly, knowing that the lack of sleep was finally catching up on your redheaded girlfriend.
“Then what about you ignoring me?” she asked softly, her grip finally loosening.
“I was listening to music,” you showed her the air pods still in your ears. “I couldn’t hear you. I didn’t even know you were in here. I thought you decided to use one of the meeting rooms instead. You know I would never intentionally ignore you,”
Natasha nodded; her eyes grew heavier listening to the soothing sound of your voice. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.” she begged, tilting her head up to look into your eyes.
“I promise, there is nothing in this world that would make me leave you. Ever.” you promised, pecking her on the lips.
“I love you; you know that right?”
“Of course, I do, and I love you too. To Vormir and back.”
“Where’s that?” she asked sleepily, her head thudding on your chest again.
“Not sure… just came into my head.” you laughed, picking her up in your arms. You brought her back to your shared bedroom, placing her underneath the covers.
“Stay,” she said, grabbing a hold of your arm.
“Of course.” Bringing her into your arms, you placed a firm kiss on her head, letting sleep envelope the two of you.
↠↠↠ 
864 words
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Forest Adventures: Exploring New Boundaries [M] — Kim Mingyu (TEASER)
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✧ Because who said camping couldn’t be fun? ✧
— domestic au, camping au, SMUT [18+] (outdoor/public), fluff, established relationship; word count: 7k+ (subject to change)
Chubby female!reader x Husband!Kim Mingyu A camping trip is the last thing on your mind when your husband suggests taking you away for the weekend. But when you suddenly find yourself standing in the middle of the forest, it becomes clear that this is Mingyu’s way of cashing in the bet you made. Just one problem – you absolutely hate camping. So, now it is up to Mingyu to show you just how much fun camping with him can be.
✦ Teaser warnings: reader hates hates hates camping (honestly, same), mingyu being a little shit but also a cutie at the same time, mentions of bugs, mentions of anal — pls let me know if I missed any :) ✧ Teaser word count: 1.4k+ ♕ Shout out: thank you @forsythe-lll for proofreading babe!! ✎ Notes: 1. this is a continuation of my my other fic, a (w)hole new experience, but you can read it as a stand-alone too :) 2. teaser below the cut ^^ it's a bit long, but i'm sure no one will mind ;) i'm afraid it's going to be another monster fic arrrgh
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“Kim Mingyu, this better be a damn joke or I swear you will be sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“What happened to being excited to go on a trip with me?!” your husband exclaimed with wide eyes, clearly surprised by your sudden threat.
“Exactly! A trip. One where we rent a hotel room or an apartment with a comfy bed and a proper bathroom. Not one where we sleep on the goddamn forest floor!” you nearly cried as your eyes scanned the trees and bushes surrounding the two of you. The light rustling of leaves here and there sent shivers up your spine as you imagined what kind of terrifying creatures could be hiding in there. You’d never been a fan of bugs, so being here, in the middle of the forest where they were no doubt crawling all over the place, definitely didn’t do your sanity any good.
Mingyu was very much aware of your little phobia. At least, until this moment that’s what you thought. Either he had mysteriously forgotten about it, or this was his way of pulling a prank just to get a reaction out of you. You doubted it was the first option, so you settled on the second one. Because you didn’t want to believe that your sweet husband, the one who always wanted nothing but the best for you, was really this cruel to put you through a full weekend of camping when he was well aware that this was the last thing you wanted to do.
But, upon hearing the words that left his mouth in the next moment, that little bit of hope you had started to crumble right in front of your eyes.
“You lost the bet, baby. And if I recall correctly, we decided that the loser will have to agree with whatever the winner wants,” your husband pointed out as he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder. Your body automatically stilled in response, everything suddenly falling into place. So that’s what this was all about. That stupid ramyeon contest you had suggested.
Looking back on it now, you just wanted to laugh at yourself for even thinking that you could have stood a chance against the Kim Mingyu. He was the better cook out of the two of you after all – something you should have known being his wife and all – so why did you have to open your big mouth and shoot yourself in the foot with that bet?
You definitely blamed it on the liquid courage of that night. There was just no way you would have suggested such a thing if you had been sober. Sober you knew damn well that no one had ever managed to beat your husband in a cook-off. Those who had tried had failed miserably, so what the hell had possessed you that night? The whole thing had literally been doomed from the start.
It had been nothing but a moment of weakness and right now, especially right now, you regretted it more than ever.
If you were honest, you had fully expected him to use his win as an opportunity to get you to do a striptease for him – a thing he had been begging for for a few weeks now. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to – because you were more than happy to do it – but you had wanted to save it for a special occasion. Though at this moment, you weren’t even sure whether he was ever going to receive that striptease. Because this? This certainly wasn’t it.
To say that you had been blindsided by his idea of a ‘fun trip’ was still putting it mildly. And the worst part was that you didn’t even have a say in the matter – a deal was a deal and that was that. Besides, you were pretty sure that your husband would never let you live it down if you tried to get out of it. You hadn’t forgotten about that time he made you eat a plate of escargots, all because you had refused to do a week of morning runs with him in the aftermath of another bet you’d lost – you really needed to stop making bets with your husband.
That memory alone was enough to make you think twice about stealing the keys and making a run for the car. Still, that didn’t mean that you couldn’t at least try to convince your husband that it wasn’t too late to change your plans. Yes, that’s how desperate you were.
“I’m aware of the rules we established, but… but you know I hate camping, especially the bugs that come with it. Why would you do this to me? Just why, Mingyu?” you whined, a little pout on your lips as you looked at the man beside you. 
“Trust me, baby. I’m gonna make it worth your while,” he assured you before gently tapping at your pouty bottom lip. He thought you looked absolutely adorable trying to get out of it. And although he hated to see you upset, he couldn’t help but enjoy it a little bit… maybe a little too much.
“You can make it worth my while by taking me to a nice hotel. Doesn’t that sound much better than this, hmm?”
Mingyu chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “You’re not getting out of this,” he whispered, which was followed by a soft whine of defeat from your side. “You gotta try to explore new things. And what better way to do that with me, your husband?”
“I’m pretty open to anything but this. Do you seriously want me to sleep in a tent with you while we’re in the middle of nowhere? There are bugs everywhere! And what about snakes? Have you even thought of that?”
Mingyu playfully rolled his eyes at your dramatic display. “You haven’t even tried, baby,” he stated before his lips morphed into a devious smirk. “Besides, just a few weeks ago you thought you weren’t into anal either, but look at you now. You can’t get enough of my cock in your ass,” he winked as he lowered his arms to grab two handfuls of your plump ass.
“Shut up, Gyu,” you whined, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Despite the slim chance of you encountering another human being in the middle of the forest, you still felt at least a little embarrassed about your husband’s sudden show of affection. “That’s totally different and you know it.”
“Is it though? It’s just something unfamiliar right now. But who knows? You might like it more than you think.”
“I hate you,” you groaned, leaning your forehead against his chest as you thought it over. Technically he was right. You had never even given it a shot, so why was it so hard to just suck it up for a few days?
Mingyu laughed and gently put one of his hands underneath your chin to get you to look at him. “No you don’t. You love me.”
“After today, I’m not so sure anymore,” you mumbled, your lips shaping into yet another dramatic pout.
“At least promise me you’ll try. Please, baby. You owe me that much at least.”
You sighed deeply, still not entirely having convinced yourself. “I don’t know, Gyu.”
“I could always make you another plate of snails,” he teased, pinching your squishy cheeks in between his fingers.
Your eyes widened at the threat, your body tensing up at the same time as you immediately recalled the awful taste of the dish he’d prepared. “Oh hell no!” There was no way you were going to relive that shit again.
“Just kidding,” your husband grinned before he softly pecked your lips. “I was actually going to suggest taking you on a proper trip next month.”
That immediately got your attention, the threat he’d just made already long forgotten at the prospect of a more ‘luxurious’ trip in the near future. “You would?” Mingyu hummed in response, his dark brown orbs sparkling as he looked at you with adoration. “Ugh, I guess I can’t say no to that. It’s not like you’re going to let me leave anyway,” you finally sighed, accepting defeat. The only way you were going to get through this was to accept your fate and try to enjoy it.
“You know me so well, baby,” your husband smirked triumphantly.
“But if I die out here, I swear to god I will haunt you for the rest of your life,” you warned, jabbing your index finger into his toned chest.
He was quick to catch your finger and lifted it to place a gentle kiss on it. “As if I would ever let anything happen to my queen.”
“You better keep that promise, Kim Mingyu.”
“Trust me, baby. You won’t regret this.”
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© All rights reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!
☀ if you want to be added to my PERMANENT tag list for upcoming works (MAINLY NSFW, SO 18+), leave a comment below or send me an ask, but be sure to mention PERMANENT TAG LIST if you choose to send an ask! If you wish to be removed, also send me an ask!
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circusinthewalls · 4 days
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Semi-NSFW Poly 141 Ramblings - MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI [Masterlist]
Admittedly, you're not really one for drinking. Too picky, maybe, or simply too busy to have much of an idea for what you actually like. You wouldn't dare miss a night out to celebrate a successful mission, though, so here you sit.
You have your drink cradled in your lap, idly tracing the edges of the sweating glass while you watch Gaz absolutely wipe the floor with Soap in a game of pool. Price is watching, too, from where he's sat on your left, and you can feel his chest rumble with a low chuckle against your side when Johnny loses yet again. A shame, honestly. Who knew Gaz was so good at the game?
You hum and take another sip of your drink, eyes flickering over to the side when Ghost slides back into the curved booth. He retakes his place on your right now that he's got his second whiskey in hand. You eye him for a moment as he hikes up his balaclava just enough to take a drink, but then your gaze is forward again.
Johnny is moping, unsurprisingly. He trots off, briefly exiting your private room to get himself another shot at the bar.
While Kyle is setting up the pool table for what feels like the hundredth time your captain turns his attention to you, pulling you a little closer against him, thumb hooking beneath your waistband to stroke over your hip. You're a tad buzzed, mellowed out by what you've had of your alcohol, but the touch isn't unwelcome. Leaning back further into him, you rest your head against his shoulder, casting a questioning glance up in his direction.
"What, bug?" he asks.
Your eyes crinkle at the affectionate nickname, but you just shrug.
"You're the one staring," you mutter, to which he laughs.
"'Spose so." He leans down, brushing his forehead with yours. "Just checkin' on ya."
When his lips meet yours, you can taste the bitterness of whatever hard cider he's been drinking and initially grimace. Tastes like shit, but then his tongue pushes into your mouth, and you don't seem to care anymore.
Price gives a satisfied groan at the way you practically melt. He sets down his drink, instead using the now free hand to grope at your thigh, tugging a bit in between squeezes like he's debating pulling you into his lap. You can only whine into the kiss, lost in it all.
That is until Simon's voice pierces the fog in your mind.
"Fuckin' hell, save some for the rest of us."
Kyle chuckles, cutting in from across the room.
"Can't even make it back to the hotel," he comments, "and leaving poor Johnny out, too."
Price reluctantly pulls away to speak, but his hands don't cease their movements.
"Never said we couldn't share."
Well fuck. Maybe tonight would be better than you'd expected.
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Blehhh, sorry for any typos and whatnot. It's late and I didn't feel like proofreading.
Will probably write up a short part two for this in the morning, but that will be proper smut. Do be on the lookout if interested? Feel free to ask to be tagged, too. o7
Copyright © circusinthewalls on Tumblr. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
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bellewintersroe · 10 months
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Charles Leclerc x reader smut - part 2
obsessed with this man I s2g, so here’s a part 2, literally just a series full of smut, kinda spontaneous so I don’t even know where this is going, but whatever. Link to Part 1.
Since Charles and Jenny’s encounter, Jenny was left even more frustrated, and with Charles’ orders that she couldn’t cum until he was the one to make her, she struggles even more to cope with the anticipation of having him again. The aftermath of them two is a tense, giggly mess skcieifiekw Charles is really soft hasnt shown his confident side in bed yet and reader can tell.
Smut - 18+ sexting, masturbation, teasing, swearing, dirty talk. Charles is a flustered mess, almost blows it a little too quickly… oral, fingering, p in v sex. Sexual tension? Ahh I want this man so bad.
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My half sister was asleep in bed next to me and all I could do was stare at the ceiling of the hotel, waiting, waiting and waiting. Why she was asleep at 8pm I’ll never know, but now I had no way from distracting myself from the real issue on my mind. Charles. After our encounter earlier all I could think about was having him again, I got butterflies whenever I thought about it, and when I replayed his words in my mind they went straight to my core.
‘Don’t touch yourself until I can’.
How on earth was I supposed to wait? My hotel room was free for three whole hours whilst Eva, my sister was with her ‘boyfriend’ that she’d met in Austria. Seeing as she’d been sneaking out and I’d kept her secret, it was her turn to keep mine. I’d kept to Charles’s words all afternoon, waiting rather impatiently, but now it was getting later and later, all I could do was laid with tightly crossed legs and scroll through my phone in a pathetic attempt to distract myself.
Charles had been texting me back and fourth all afternoon, apart from when he was training of course. The more time that passed the hornier I got. So I took myself to the bathroom, deciding to run a second shower. “Fuck this…” I muttered, locking the door and stripping off my clothes. My underwear were already dripping wet, and I sighed, annoyed by my own desperation. I could still imagine vividly the slight stretch of my tight hole around his cock, the way he’d press so hard against me that his balls would push against my ass. Before I knew it my right hand was rubbing over my clit, taking my phone in my other hand and snapping a picture of my bare tits and torso, cutting it off just before he could see where I was touching. Oops
I’d sent to him the message, stepping in the shower with my hair tied up to avoid getting it wet. Maybe it was a good idea to cool off. When my phone buzzed again, I took it with wet hands.
I thought you said you were going to wait
I’m not making myself cum, but I’m just so wet from earlier, I can’t help it
fuck you are making me hard
To this, I sent him another picture of my wet tits pressed together, fingers slightly sprawled over my pierced nipple, awaiting his response as I tightened my legs. I loved the idea of Charles being hard over me, no matter how many times we had these conversations, they never failed to turn me on more than anything. You are so fucking beautiful, I’m going to fuck you so good later
are you touching yourself? Smirking, I pulled out the camera again, leaning against the wall as I sunk down to the floor, spreading my legs and sending him a video of me rubbing my clit slowly. fuck fuck fuck Jenny im leaving in a minute
So hard for you omg
Leaning back I let out a quiet sigh, enjoying the sensation of touching myself, I was throbbing so desperately, closing my eyes and becoming lost in the moment. I imagined his fingers pushed inside of me, fingering me until I squirted down his arm, screaming his name as I tugged on his short hair. The way he’d muffle a moan if his face was pressed up to my pussy, tongue licking up and down as he made me cum all over his face. Fuck, if I continued I wouldn’t stop. I was dangerously close to losing control, so I had to pull my hand away and continue with a second shower, unable to look at Charles’ dirty words until I was done.
I will be back in 10 minutes, I’ll come get you
just as long as you’re quieter than you were earlier 😉
shut up
I giggled, realising I kinda had to rush. I had to go through the full routine again, moisturising, spraying perfume, picking out new underwear. “What’re you doing?” My sister grumbled from behind me, thick in her French accent, as I stuffed my phone into my pocket. I had to leave now. Charles was outside the room. “Uh going out, I’ll be back in the morning, don’t tell dad, cos’ I kept your boyfriend a secret!” I warned as she pfffted out a tired laugh. “Salope.” She joked as I fake gasped. “You are the slut!” I giggled, heading down the corridor, knowing my secret was safe. “Jenna?” She then asked. “C’est Charles?” I cringed at her question. She’d caught on oddly fast. “Non.” I lied, before slipping out of the room and seeing Charles stood there, hood up and a gentle smile covering his face. I immediately smile, being quiet to close the door behind me. “Bonjour.” I teased as he wrapped an arm over my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my lips, “hello.” He eyed me up and down, squeezing my shoulder before his arm dropped and he left a lazy hand on my lower back.
“Thats his room… be quiet.” I whispered, as we passed my father and step-mums room with our heads dipped. “Lucky, I am on a different floor.” He shrugged, pressing the elevator button. The whole time we were waiting for the lift I was anxiously awaiting somebody I knew to open their door or come out from down the hallway. When a door did pull open, I was grateful that we’d hopped into the lift for safety. Charles pressed the button number 7 and then I frantically pressed the close button, relieved when we began moving upwards.
He laughed at my frantic behaviour, coming up behind me and making eye contact with me through the mirror in the lift. “You look so good.” He muttered, voice getting lower as he stepped closer towards me, hooking an arm over my chest.
Smiling back up to him, I watched as he dipped his head inhaling the scent of my hair. “You smell good!” His words made me laugh now, feeling him nuzzle his nose into my freshly washed hair. “You weirdo!” I giggled, digging my bum back into his hips as he groaned, moving the hair back with a kiss to my neck. “Mmm, ça m'excite.” He admitted it turned him on as I hummed, running a hand over his clothed arm.
He mimicked my hum, leaving several kisses on my skin as I gasped out a soft sigh, just as the lift doors opened. There was two different couples stood wide eyed, luckily I didn’t recognise either of them as Charles cleared his throat, lowering his head and leading me out of the lift with his hand. Once we’d past them, both of us giggled, sharing a kiss whilst he used his keycard to open the hotel door.
Oh my god, his room was nice, 10x better than mine and Eva’s and I wasn’t surprised. I turned back to him with my jaw dropped. “It’s so nice in here!”
“It is… I gotta shower and I’ll be back with you, put whatever you want on the TV.” He glanced me up and down as I nodded, sitting down on the plush bed and leaning back. “Ugh, so comfy.”
“I know!” He exclaimed, stripping off his hoody and tossing it straight onto my head playfully. His phone was still in the pocket, luckily it didn’t hit my head but it didn’t stop him from rushing over.
“I am sorry! I forgot that was in there! Are you okay?” He laughed, scanning over me as he held my face. “I’m okay, you idiot.” I laughed, playfully tapping his face as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then again to my lips. Charles jumped up quick, almost child like. “Ok, I will go shower now.”
Whilst he was showering, I was struggling to work the TV, everything was in French, or German. I mean we were in Austria, I just struggled to follow the language when it was on the TV. In the end I settled for some French sitcom whilst I awaited Charles to be finished in the shower.
10 minutes later, Charles walked back out in a fresh pair of Calvin Kleins, practically diving on the bed with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t look at me half naked.” He half joked as I giggled. “What?! I barley even saw you!”
“Good…” he spun around on the bed, resting next to me against the headboard. “What are you watching this for?!” Charles spluttered out a laugh, taking the control that had been resting in my hand. “It’s my favourite TV show.” I sarcastically spoke. “Can’t you tell?” “No, I can’t.” He laughed sheepishly, clearly thinking I was being serious. “I’m being sarcastic, I don’t even know what they’re saying. Their French is too quick. Le mien est lent.” I told him mine was slow, longing out the sentence as Charles scanned over my face. His gaze dropping down to my lips. “You sound good when you speak French.”
“Hm?” The corner of my lip perked, pulling my knees up slightly to bend, but Charles had other ideas. His hand smoothed down my thigh, nudging it back on the bed as I swallowed harshly. “It’s a shame I could not hear you in those videos earlier.” He muttered sending a wave of butterflies through my lower stomach. “I had to be quiet.” “You didn’t cum did you?” He asked, hand pausing as his fingers just about nudged under the hem of my grey jogging shorts. “No, I listened.” I teased, watching a smile grow on his face. “Now I have finally got you alone.” Charles smirked, his fingers continuing their way up to rest on my inner thigh. “About time.” I moaned, watching him sit up slightly so he could nudge his lips against mine to steal a kiss. I could feel his smile against my mouth the whole time, it made it a little hard to kiss, but I didn’t care, his excitement was a compliment to me. Plus, I’d been waiting for this all day. The playful tone in the room soon switched up to something heavier as he lay between my legs, kissing me hungrily with his tongue rolling over mine. There was that thick tension between the two of us again, one that made me pull his hips further into my own. We didn’t have to speak to let one another know how badly we yearned for this. I was wet just from kissing, and Charles didn’t hesitate to slip off my shorts, discarding them next to us on the bed.
“I want to taste you… can I taste you?” He asked, fingers inching closer up my thigh, teasing around the area as I writhed, not being down for this teasing. After months of fantasising about this, and him saying how badly he wanted his mouth on my pussy, my dream was finally coming to life.
“Yeah.” I weakly spoke, hand on his head as he worked his way down my body. Oh god, oh god, I was already breathing heavy, but this was just making my chest heave and fall at a ridiculous pace. “Are you sure?” He breathed, lips pressing a kiss to the lace of my thongs. “Mmh, please.” I moaned as he let out a soft chuckle, fingers nipping under the edge of my skinny underwear. “I like this.” He whispered before sliding them down my legs. I gulped, fidgeting my legs as he nudged them open, leaning in and finally licking a stripe up my pussy. The two of us simultaneously groaned. “Mmm, Charles.” I cooed, as he hummed, licking over me once again. The heat from his tongue, followed by his lips wrapping around my clit sent me onto a whole other planet. “You taste so good, baby.” He uttered, barely breaking away from his movements as he sucked over my clit again. He looked away, shyly, rubbing his hands up and under my tight shirt, squeezing at my tits. “Couldn’t stop staring at these tits.” He admitted as I let out a louder moan, feeling him pinch at the pierced buds. “So sexy.” He commented before licking up and down over my sensitive clit once again. “Charles.” My body jerked, knees trapping his head as he continued his assault on my core. “Oh my god, you feel so god.” I finally spoke, feeling him smile as I whined, grinding my hips against his mouth. “How can I make you cum, baby, with my fingers?” He asked, seeming a little unsure as I nodded with a pleasured sigh. Charles wiped the back of his mouth before kissing me, tracing once finger down my naval, over my slit and easily pushing into my wetness. “Oh, fuck.” I gasped as he hummed, nodding besides me as he kept pushing his finger in and out. “Keep- keep going.” I gasped, hearing the squelching of my wetness against his fingers, my own hand moved down to assist his, rubbing over my clit as Charles kissed at my cheek.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day. About you.” Charles admitted as I moaned, dropping my head against his for support. “Keep talking to me.” I whined, desperate to hear more. “About how tight your pussy felt, how badly I wanted to cum in there… can you take two?” He hummed as I moaned out loud, hand grabbing at his prominent bulge, desperate for something to hold onto.
“Yeah.” Charles pushed his second finger into my tightness as my breath hitched, feeling the intensity of his fingers jabbing at my G-spot. “I imagined you cumming all down my fingers.” His accent was doing wonders for me and soon it was my turn to talk back. “Gonna make me cum Charles, fuck, do you want me to?”
“Yes, baby, oui, jouis pour moi.” He instructed me to cum for him, my stomach curling and tightening as I let out a louder gasp, squeezing the head of his cock as he let out an inward groan. “Cum for me and I will fuck you so good.” He told me, “Charles!” I warned, hand moving to snatch at his flexed arm as I choked out several moans. “I-I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” I gasped, feeling the overwhelming pleasure soon rattle through me. I felt myself release from below, squirting on him as I let out a borderline scream, covering my mouth but Charles pulled my hand away. “That’s it, that’s it.” He cooed me through my orgasm as I sobbed out, body writhing and twitching as he milked my orgasm.
“Tu as giclé pour moi. Tu es tellement bon.” He muttered gently, easing his fingers out of me once my body had relaxed. “What? I don’t know what tha’ means.” I panted furiously. “I don’t know it in English, you… you know.” He gestured down to my below. “Squirted?” I awkwardly said as he nodded. “Yes, I lost my English.” “Mmm, it’s okay.” I hushed, pulling him in for a kiss as I swiped my hand down to rub over his cock. “You’re so hard.” I moaned as he let out a breathy sigh against my mouth. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” I urged him on, taking a hold and rubbing more at his cock.
“I need to fuck you.” Charles then spoke, “I need to- putain, c'est trop bon.” He cut himself off with a curse in French, hips jumping when I squeezed his dick. He made out with me for a little longer, breathing heavy as I quickened my pace. “Non, non… I am taking care of you.” He seemed to fight an internal battle, but didn’t push me away. “I like doing this, Charles, making you feel good.” I cooed as he moaned out loud now. “C'est trop rapide. Putain, si tu n'arrêtes pas ça ira trop vite.” (This is too quick. Fuck, if you don’t stop it will happen too quick).
“What will happen too quick?” I bucked my naked hips up at him as he quickly stopped me. “Non, non, non. Give me a minute-“ he exhaled quickly, freezing and stopping my hand from touching him. “Are you okay?”
“You just nearly make me cum too fast.” For some reason, his words spurred me on further, but I knew I couldn’t continue to tease. “It’s okay.” I whispered, turning around and stripping my top off. Charles eyes were constantly on me, and it was within no time that he was pushing me under his body. “You can fuck me exactly how you wanted to now.” I giggled as he bit down on his lips, kicking off his underwear. “You want this?” He asked, pumping at his cock. So fucking hard and long, he was the perfect size. “Yeah… do you?”
“So much.” He cooed, easing himself in once again. I gasped, snatching at his shoulders. This time, the burn was a little harsher than before, but I pushed through it, knowing I was just a little sore from earlier. “Is it ok?” Charles let out a groan, with a noise like that how could I ever stop? “Fuck me.” I begged, moving my hips up until he finally began thrusting in and out of me. “Does that feel okay?” I could tell he was holding himself back, straining as he held himself up to wait for my answer. “It’s good.” I panted with a reassuring smile. “You feel so good.” This made hun smile as he moved forwards to kiss me much deeper now.
“Oh, yeah.” Charles moaned directly into my ear making me sigh out in utter pleasure, feeling his hand holding the back of my head. “Harder.”
“Harder?” He looked back as I nodded. “Please, I need it.” I spoke through almost gritted teeth as he rested his hands either side of me, beginning to fuck into me at a pace that I could barely moan properly at. He was so good, his hips were slapping against my own, the bed beginning to squeak at our antics.
I took his hand, running it over my breasts and throat teasingly. “Oh god.” He closed his eyes, tending his jaw as he thrusted into me harsher. With each intense thrust I yelled out, snatching and scratching at his back as Charles hissed. His cock was filling me up, stretching my pussy out, my legs were wide and he was slotted so perfectly between them. Sinful noises filled the room as we continued with our passionate fucking. I couldn’t stop, neither could he, it was like a desperation as we chased one another’s orgasms. Every time we’d start off sweet and slow it’s like something inside of us clicked and an animalistic side came out. I tugged on Charles’s wrist, pushing his hand onto my neck as he groaned. “You will make me cum, fuck! You will make me come, Jen- jouis avec moi. jouis avec moi, baby!” We were spooning, my leg stretched up as he frantically fucked me like there was no tomorrow.
“Cum together?” I repeated. “Oui!” He gasped out, tightening his grip on my neck as I rolled my eyes back, feeling him rubbing over my clit. The pace was overwhelming, I could no longer hold back the anticipation racking up inside of me. “Okay, cum, cum inside me, fuck, give it to me- Ah, I’m cumming!” My voice raised as Charles gasped out, fucking his seed into me as he came with a satisfied moan, simultaneous to my own. “Fuck, fuck. I just came so hard.” Charles choked out, his tight grip loosening do rub over my skin. I was exhaling loudly, body jolting and jittering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. “So did I.” I sighed, feeling him milking the last of his cum inside of me, body dripping with sweat as he gently rested an arm over me. “Just stay like this.” Charles cooed, pulling me close as I hummed, snuggling into his back. “Are you okay?”
“Tired.” I responded feeling him lifting his head to take a look at me. “Tu as bien fait ma belle.” (You did so good, my beautiful). An undeniable smile grew on my face. “So did you…”
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1015luv · 2 years
Text
── say it back; enhypen x reader
'you don't say 'i love you' back, how do the members of enhypen respond?'
a/n: is this mostly clingy and soft enhypen? probably. is this self-indulgent? most definitely. based off of tiktoks i've seen and thought it was cute. tried switching to using more 'you' than (y/n), let me know if you like it better or if I should switch back. anyways more under the cut, thank you for reading < 3
warnings || soft and clingy enhypen, use of petnames(?)
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heeseung
was supposed to leave to hang out with the other enhypen members, so he slips on his shoes and calls out for you. "bye (y/n), love you" he yells, opening the door as he waits for your to reply with your lovely voice saying those words he loves. when they don't come he stops mid step, turning his heel back into the apartment and towards your open bedroom door. pokes his head in, seeing you still nestled in bed. takes his shoes off and goes to kneel in front of your face. he knows you were talkative a few moments before when you were telling him how he looked so handsome in his outfit, so he goes to poke your nose a few times. laughing when you scrunch it in response. "i said i love you (y/n), i'll see you later" he repeats, hopeful eyes waiting for you to reply. you turn in your spot on the bed, making him frown before grinning at your playful silence. "fine, i guess you don't love me enough to bring your bubble tea order with me on the way home" he sighs, about to get up from spot before you sit up and grab his arm. "you wouldn't dare" "oh i would if you keep withholding that cute morning voice of yours saying those words i love the most" heeseung winked, crossing his arms as he waits for you to say. you blush at his comment, turning your head quickly. but you still say it back, because bubble tea is way more important that a tiktok trend.
jay
doesn't notice, smiles and waves as he leaves for the day, leaving you sitting at the kitchen table with a confused look, almost looking like that standing emoji. i mean it wasn't the first time the joke didn't deliver, so he probably didn't realize. at least, that's what you're telling yourself as you scramble to pick up your phone from its hidden position, your attempts to record a cute prank for tiktok now useless. jay does come home hours later back to you frowning, grumbling about how the couples that did the prank had funny reactions. jay tilts his head in confusion as he wraps his arms around your waist. "what's going on inside that head of yours love?" he questions, glancing over your shoulder at the tiktok they were trying to mimick. "oh is that why you wouldn't say i love you back this morning?" he questions, you nodding as you throw away your phone in exchange for returning his embrace. "ah, my slow but handsome boyfriend, i'll get my viral tiktok moment with you another time" you declare, jay laughing and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead in response.
jake
does a double take almost animatedly, eyes widening and mouth wide open in shock. "love? did you hear me?" he questioned, poking his head back in the room he left you in. "yes i did, make sure to grab the my shampoo i ran out last night!" you reply, your eyes glued to the computer screen. jake walked over, looking at you like a lost puppy with a slight frown on his features. "did you hear the other thing i said?" he asked again, you shaking your head as you met his gaze briefly before going back to the computer. it was really hard not to laugh, considering he hasn't realized yet. "nope, is everything alright?" you responded, tilting your head as you glance back at him. jake tackles you off the chair and onto the kitchen floor, his hands reach your sides to tickle and pinch them to incite your laughter. "i know you heard it, say it back" jake laughed as you pushed his hands away frantically. from that day on, you learned not to ignore his affection, at least for the sake of how ticklish you were.
sunghoon
forgets about whatever he needed to do that day, decides to annoy you enough that you'll say the three little words he wanted to hear. starts with following you around the house, crossing his arms as you continue on your day without give him much attention. proceeds to poke you repeatedly, which ends with you pushing his fingers away from your body. finally ends with him clinging to you like a koala, his tall figure slumped over yours, as he complains about how you don't love him anymore in a song-like voice. "has anyone ever told you you're annoying sunghoon" you tease, sunghoon glaring at your childishly. "clearly someone who hasn't been saying i love you back" he retorts, making you lose your initial composure and kissing his cheek. "sorry hoonie, i love you" instantly makes a smile appear on his features, feels like he's has been reawakens and spins you around in his own happiness. only for the two of you to end up on the floor after he gets dizzy, which results in you two staring at one another before laughing.
sunoo
feigns a shocked expression, watching you across the room as you continue to read your newest book as if you didn't just ignore him. he huffs as he stomps in front of you, plucking out the soft covered book and crossing his arms. "do you have anything to say?" sunoo stared at you, you only staring at him innocently as you reach for the book in his hands. sunoo proceeded to put the book over his head, squinting at you as if to say come and try it. after about thirty minutes of a impromptu staring contest, sunoo sighed and turned on his heel. "i GUESS someone doesn't love me" he complained somewhat jokingly, slowly walking away in attempts to make you feel bad. you rolled their eyes, already over the joke and hopped onto his back. sunoo yelped, especially when you started kissing his cheeks and repeatedly said how much you loved him.
jungwon
notices the phone as he comes back into the room to ask for his good-bye kisses and affections, making a funny face before kissing your cheeks. "can't get me with that prank, nice try though" he laughs, walking towards the phone and ending the recording. you crosses your arms with a huff, rolling your eyes at your failed attempt. "no fair, the others probably showed you it" you complain, tugging him back into bed and laying on top of him as a sign of protest. he shakes his head, already seeing his morning continuing here instead of the place he had to go to. "nope, pretty sure you sent it to me instead of your friend and even sent a messaged saying 'omg jungwon would totally react to this if i did it' he mimics your voice, putting air quotes around the message and smiling when you leaned down to shut him up with more kisses.
niki
also a pouty baby, but totally the type to ignore you. acts a bit chlidish but oh well. he knows what you're doing and wants to play too. cue the silent household, the enhypen guys looking at the two with worry and confusion when they sit on the otherside of the couch. this lasts 1 day at max. since niki crumbles first when he feels touch-starved, wrapping his arms around you in bed and showing you his frowning lips. "(y/n) talk to me, i know you're just not saying it on purpose" niki whined, a small smile forming on your lips as you wrap your arms around him as well. cupping his cheeks in your hands, you leave kisses on his cheeks and lips, making niki grin in satisfaction. niki connects your lips to his while holding you close, already forgetting why the two weren't speaking in the first place.
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taglist: @hell1cy @wtfhyuck likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡
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gaycragula · 21 days
Note
Hello there
Please could i request a child male reader (around 9-12, maybe younger idk you can choose) x 141. Platonic obv. Reader is being held hostage for reasons and they have to go on a rescue mission. When reader is saved he’s scared of them all except ghost who he just clings onto LMAO
cheers mate 🙏
Lost and Found
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Pairing: 141 x Child Male Reader (Platonic!!!!) Warning(s): Heavy implication of parent death, politician family, child reader, locked in a basement, he gets fed i promise, i have no idea how the military works, angst? Word Count: 2069 Masterlist
The walls were an ugly, cracks running along them, and you’re sure there was mold growing in one of the corners. The only light in the room was a small lightbulb in the center of the room that was rarely left on. The only door leading out of the room was locked from the outside. You’re not sure you exactly wanted to leave the room. Not with the heavy thumps of feet that stomped through the first floor of the home.
It was a nice summer day when it happened. You’d just finished a nice dinner with your parents when the sirens began to blare. The sound cut your ears and you covered your ears, trying to block out the noise. You were whisked out of your chair by your dad before  you could get up yourself.
Hushed words were shared between your parents as they rushed through the home to the basement. Your father’s grip was tight on you as he toted you down the stairs, your mother right on his heels. 
Dad set you down in a corner, trying to keep you out of direct sight of the stairs. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, your mother doing the same. 
“Be good and stay here,” your mom whispers, giving you a pained smile. Her lip quivered as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Mom and Dad love you. We always will.”
. Then, they left you, footsteps receding back up the stairs into the home. You heard the door shut and a silent darkness covered you. The silence only lasted for a moment. 
Something crashed upstairs and loud bangs made you cover your ears again. You curled further into the corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. More crashing and something heavy hitting the ground sounded before it fell silent again. It was over… right?
The basement door slammed open and you gave a full body flinch. A flurry of steps rocketed down the stairs. Way too many to be just your parents. 
Five or six men came into your sightline. Each of them looked like they were armed to the teeth and it sent a jolt of fear through you. These men just ran through your house. Where your parents were. Where were your parents? 
They scoured the basement, flashlights leading their guns as they searched. For what? You weren’t quite sure but you hoped they would just look over you. The fear surging through your body was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe, each breath fighting to force its way out silently. You tried to stay hidden for as long as possible but their flashlights soon exposed you.
They said something you couldn’t understand before moving on and returning upstairs when they finished. You heard the faint click of the lock to the basement and you were left in the basement by yourself again. You tried to fight the tears that began falling down your cheeks as you curled in on yourself. It wasn’t a very long fight and your face soon became wet with your tears. It hit you then that you’d probably never see your parents again.
It had been a week since it had happened. The men would leave food for you at the top of the stairs. You spent the majority of your days sitting under the light in the room, playing whatever you could find. Trying to distract your mind. You were suddenly happy your parents kept a chunk of toys down in the basement for storage.
Totes of toy cars that you pretended to race with, some toy dinosaurs you’d gotten years ago, left forgotten in the basement until now. There were planks of wood you’d dragged over that you drew on with some chalk your parents kept down there. The chalk worked well on the walls as well.
Drawings littered the small walls of the basement. Cars and dinosaurs littered the floor. Your house.. Your home, your family. Where did it all go?
You’ve tried to talk to the men on multiple occasions but they only either looked at you with disdain or spoke in a language you couldn’t understand. 
On the eighth day of the occupation, you heard those loud bangs and the shouts of men again. You started crying again, you didn’t even have a chance to try to stop it as you scrambled  back into a corner in the room again, hopefully out of sight. Out of mind.
It felt like ages before the house fell silent again. You heard the doorknob wiggle, muffled voices coming from the otherside. Light filtered into the basement as the door creaked open. “After you, Sergeant,” a gruff voice huffs, a hint of teasing to the tone.
A short laugh followed the words before steps were coming down the stairs again, flashlights dancing over the walls as they descended. “Ohhhh hell, look at this, LT,” a second voice whispers, a light lingering on the drawings on the wall. Silence fell again as the sound of more boots started down the stairs, flashlights whipping around the room before one fell on your form. 
—-----------------------
Clearing the home was easy. The bastards inside weren’t expecting an attack for a while. A home far outside any city line would surely work as a temporary base, right?
They thought so at least. So when the Scotsman barged through the door followed by six others, the occupants weren’t prepared. The firefight was short. The men inside scrambling to get to their weapons as fast as possible. 
It was Roach who’d noticed the door to the basement, calling over the rest of the team. “What d’ya thinks down there?” Soap chuckles as Ghost takes a hand at picking the lock. “More guys? Prisoners they been keepin’?”
“If I had to take a guess, probably prisoners. Family who lived here was big in the political field here. Probably kept them as hostages for ransom,” Price says, gesturing for two of the guys to stand guard at the front and back doors. 
The door clicked open and slowly swung open with a nasty creak. “After you, Sergeant,” Ghost huffs, nudging the Scotsman forward. Soap let out a short laugh before starting into the dimly lit basement. Ghost close behind him. Soap’s flashlight scanned the floors and walls. He noticed dinosaurs and cars littering the floor around the bottom of the stairs. He initially thought nothing of it. They knew a young kid lived here. 
He was almost to the bottom as his light scanned over a big drawing of a home and a family of three drawn in chalk. 
He felt his heart drop at the image. Soap was no master in chalk or anything, but the drawing looked pretty new. “Ohhh hell, look at this LT,” he says, nudging the other. Ghost went rigid for a second before gesturing back up the stairs for the other three to come down quickly. 
Flashlights scoured the basement, Soap wandering towards the darkest part of the basement. His light danced over the stone floor before the body of a little boy was illuminated.
“Over here,” Soap calls out, almost missing the way the kid jerked in response to his words. Soap handed Price his gun before crouching down next to the boy. Your eyes were locked onto him, tear stains evident on your cheeks and fear clouding your eyes. “We’re here to help ya,” Soap says, trying to offer his hand to you.
“Back off the kid, Soap,” Ghost mutters. “He’s scared shitless.”
Soap let out a quiet, barely audible sigh as he stood back up and stepped back to join the rest of his team. 
Your eyes shot from man to man. Your breath was heavy in your chest and you could hear yourself wheezing because of it. “Where are my parents?” You almost sobbed. Your voice was hoarse, throat tight as you waited for an answer.
The men felt their hearts drop at the pure pain in your voice. This kid, no older than 11 or 12 had his life turned upside down in a matter of fifteen minutes just a week ago. 
It was Ghost who made the first, well technically second, advance towards you, much to the surprise of the rest of the team. Just as surprising was the way you sat up to be face to face with him as he crouched down. 
He pulled a small picture out of pocket and handed it to you. It was a picture of your parents and yourself that you’d never seen before. “I don’t know where your parents are, but I do know that if you remain here, you’ll never find them,” Ghost spoke lowly. Just loud enough for you to hear. 
You nodded in understanding, shoving the picture in your pocket as Ghost stood up. He went to turn back to the team but paused when your hand grabbed his. You avoided his gaze when he looked back at you but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he picked you up and maneuvered you onto his back. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, laying your head down on his back.
Ghost turned towards his team who were all gawking at the scene before them. “Get goin’ and quit starin’ at me like that,” he huffs, nodding towards the stairs before turning to speak to Roach, Gaz, and Soap. “Get the kid some clothes and we’re gettin’ out of here.”
“Aye, L.T,” Soap almost stutters, pushing Roach and Gaz towards the stairs. Price chuckled to himself before heading up the stairs after the three, rounding up the other two that he’d stationed up there. 
“What’s your name?” Ghost hears you ask quietly.
“They call me Ghost,” the man answers as he heads up the stairs. He felt you nod against his back and you fell silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”
You tell him your name, which he already knew but he wasn’t going to tell you that. That started a short and quiet conversation between the two of you. You asked how long he’d been in the military, where he was from, what his family was like and Ghost answered you and asked you the same questions in return. 
It was a stark contrast to what the 141 was used to. Ghost was generally quiet on these kinds of missions. “It’s gotta be the kid,” Gaz whispers to Soap who nods in agreement. 
“Yeah but what about this kid is different from others we’ve found?” Soap whispers back, rubbing his jaw as he watched you and Ghost interact. Gaz shrugged in response before Roach chimed in.
“Maybe he reminds him of a family member? Younger brother or nephew?” Roach suggests and it was like a lightbulb went off in the other two’s heads.
“That’s gotta be it,” Soap nods. “Does anyone know anythin’ ‘bout his family?” 
Gaz and Roach shake their heads and Soap sighs. He opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when he saw Ghost shoot a look over his shoulder at him.
“Quit chattin’. Be on guard. We’re still in hostile territory,” Price mutters, ignoring the noise of complaint the three made before begrudgingly doing what they were told.
It was your first time on an aircraft. You were glued to Ghost’s side, eyes locked on the floor in front of you. Soap had tried to get your attention a couple times to no avail. If you did make eye contact with him, you were quick to look away as quick as possible. 
The others didn’t have much luck either. Roach had tried to speak to you while Ghost was carrying you and all you’d done was bury your face into the fabric of Ghost’s shirt. 
Price had been the most outward about it, asking to actually carry you so give Ghost a break. That was the only time you’d spoken to anyone besides Ghost. “No,” was all that came from your mouth as you shook your head. Ghost had chuckled and told Price he was good to carry you the whole way.
Ghost had given you his hand to basically ‘play’ with. You braided his fingers, bending them and whatever else you could do to keep your mind calm. The rest of the team couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces at the sight.
Who would’ve guessed. The big bad Ghost had actually a big softie.
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hollandorks · 7 months
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haven
battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader
interlude two
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Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a
a/n: Another brief look into Bruce's mind...there will definitely be a couple more of these. And Bruce will get his own full chapter at the climax at the story. No I will not tell you more than that. Anyways thanks for the comments and feedback, they make me write faster!
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word count: 1.1k
“I’m okay,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she was.
Bruce's POV
For most of the night, all of Bruce’s thoughts were some variation of oh fuck. 
First, it was because he was certain that at any moment, y/n would recognize him. That she would call him out on the mask, lying to her, everything. The more they talked, the more tightly wound he became. 
But at the same time, he…enjoyed it. She was more open with Batman than she was Bruce. Talking to each other like strangers erased their complicated, hurt-filled past in a way that was addicting. Bruce knew that the longer things went on, the worse it would be when she figured it out. 
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. 
Then, of course, the cursing in his mind changed the moment he realized she was in danger. That he had put her in danger by bringer her along. That panic was different, deeper, more crippling. 
Bruce thought he had known true fear.
He thought he had conquered fear. He had turned into an incarnation of it. 
But then, when Alfred was almost killed by the Riddler, all of that fear had come rushing back. 
And still it didn’t hold a candle to what he had felt when that man’s gun had been trained on y/n. Even with the Riddler terrorizing the city, even with Alfred almost dying, at least y/n had been safe in Bludhaven. 
Now that she was back in Gotham she was in danger. He had almost lost her. That fear was…unprecedented. It had nearly killed him, the sight of that gun pointed at her, the man’s intent to use it clear on his face. Like the world had stopped long enough to carve his lungs out of his chest. Long enough for him to imagine a world without her. 
Bruce didn’t care that his suit was bulletproof in those moments–he would have stepped in front of her anyways. 
The primal need to save her, to protect her, had been so strong he’d almost hit Gordon. And her new friend Martinez. He shot a glare to the man as he thought about the way he’d looked at y/n. Apparently, she texted him often. 
Bruce shifted his attention to y/n as Alfred hugged her, willing her to see him. To see him. To connect him to the Batman. He wanted her to know, even though it terrified him. Even though he didn’t know what she’d think, he suddenly ached for her to connect the pieces. After tonight, he didn’t want anything left between them. 
“I’m okay,” she said to Alfred, but he knew she wasn’t. He wished he could be the one to hold her. Batman might have been able to–she had seemed receptive enough to his touch in that alley. Leaned into it, even. But he knew it was because he hadn’t been himself. 
“Is there somewhere we can all talk?” Gordon asked. Alfred led them all into the sitting room, y/n trailing behind like a zombie. Bruce hesitated, wanting to stay back with her, imagined taking her hand and cupping her face to get a better look at the cut on her head in the light. 
Instead he sat as far away from her as he could, elbows on knees, hands clasped underneath his chin as he half-listened to ideas for security measures. 
He’d had to rush home to beat them there, to be able to change and wash his face and make it look like he’d been asleep. He’d explained, breathlessly, what happened to Alfred as the elevator rose to the top floor. They had barely stepped out of it when the other elevator opened. 
Alfred wanted to know, after asking if y/n was alright, if she had recognized him yet. 
Of course the answer was still no.
Alfred had sighed. Bruce heard their entire past arguments in that one sound. 
Two days before, when he’d gotten home, Alfred had been waiting. 
“She didn’t recognize me,” was the first thing Bruce said. A worry that was on both of their minds when Gordon had called. 
Alfred crossed his arms. He had left his cane leaning against a chair, too, likely to look more intimidating. 
“I know she didn’t, because she told me she was out with the Batman tonight.” Alfred’s foot tapped. “And if she had recognized you, I’m certain she would have come in with guns blazing, maybe even breathing fire.” 
Bruce paused. “...Right.” He wasn’t quite sure why Alfred was annoyed, then, if he knew y/n had been with him and hadn’t recognized him. Bruce started the ritual of shedding his armor while Alfred stewed. 
“The more time you spend with her, the worse it will be,” Alfred said after a long silence. “You know that, right?” 
Bruce shrugged but didn’t answer. 
“Why haven’t you told her?” 
“Because she hasn’t figured it out,” he said. He didn’t have any other good reason. Maybe because he liked spending time with her as two strangers. They had no past that way. Batman hadn’t broken her heart. Bruce had. She was easy with the vigilante, more open. More like herself than she was with Bruce. And Bruce missed her, the real her. Her humor, her smile, her laugh–things that only Batman got to see now. 
“Maybe she doesn’t want to,” he continued, voice soft as he placed the armor in its spot on a dummy. “Maybe I fucked her up so bad she can’t see me behind the mask.” 
Alfred’s silence was pointed. 
“This is the point where you’re supposed to argue,” Bruce said drily. 
“Nothing to argue with,” Alfred said, tone cold, and turned on his heel. 
Now, Alfred was giving him a pointed look across the sitting room. Bruce realized it had gone silent. Y/n was the only one not looking at him expectantly. A flush crawled up his neck at the sudden attention. 
“Sorry,” he said, but his voice was too low. Too close to Batman. He cleared his throat. “Not quite awake yet.” 
Y/n flinched. It was subtle, but it was still a flinch. Bruce’s eyebrows drew together as he wondered why she had reacted to strongly to his words. 
He had to tear his eyes away from her and refocus on the conversation about her security. Gordon said something about Bruce and Alfred being in danger, but the two of them exchanged a look, silently dismissing it out of hand. 
Bruce would do whatever it took to keep y/n safe. He had already taken four bullets for her, his chest aching, and he would take a thousand more, armor or no armor. 
She was safest in the tower with him, where he could keep her safe. Not that she knew it. Not that Gordon knew it either. 
But he and Alfred were her best bets. 
If only he could get her to stop running away from him.
Next Chapter
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first-edition · 6 months
Text
Fox and the Hound
Sandor Clegane x reader
Chapter 7
Previous chapter here
Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 
CW for this chapter- SMUT, MINORS DNI this chapter is basically all smut, unprotected sex, p in v, size kink, praise kink (if you squint), aftercare, fluff, confession of feelings, deep pen., 18+ action, words, and themes. Fingering (fem reciv.), over stimulation, literally breathing the bed.
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Kicking the door open to your shared chambers sandor carrying you to the bed placing you down. 
“I-im fine sandor really I'm alright.” you say 
“Was she trying to fucking kill you?” he huffs. 
“Shall i fetch the maester now milord?” joss asks. 
“No joss i'm alright.” you say he nods. 
“Away with you!” Sandor barks out at him. 
“Thank you joss you've been helpful.” you say and get up going over to your desk and grabbing a small pouch of coins handing it to him. 
“Th-thank you, milady but I cannot-” he begins. 
“Take it. Get a hot meal from the kitchen and rest earlier tell them I sent you.” you say. You bow before thanking you again and leaving closing the doors behind him. 
You turn back to Sandor who stands by the bed. 
“I'm alright. You have to stop looking at me like I've got a gash through my stomach.” you say and pull off what's left of the cut dress. It easily falls loose into a pile of fabric on the floor. You sigh in relief as you pull out your hair from its updo, happy to have it back down resting on your shoulders yet still keeping half of it up. 
“What's that? Another deadly gift for the queen?” he asks dreadfully, seeing the black and yellow dress still hanging on the outside of the wardrobe. 
“No. It's nothing…” you say shaking your head combing your fingers through your hair. He looks at you knowing it's nothing. You sigh and look down at the dress then turn to face him. 
“I was going to wear it tonight…I had put an order into the seamstress two days ago for the festival. I-it was supposed to be a surprise. Your house colors.” you say looking down. It's quiet as you look down at your feet. Also have taken off your shoes. 
“Put it on,” he says. You look up at him surprised he would respond. 
“Wh-what?” you ask. He nods and repeats his statement again. 
“Put it on. I'll help you.” he adds. You nod and walk to it, taking the dress off the hook and laying it on the bed. He walks to the other side where you stand. You pull off your underclothes now nude once again in front of your husband but he's more focused on wanting to see you in the dress than anything. 
You step into the dress, pulling up the sleeves. You feel his hands on your waist as he trails them to your back and ties up the back tightening it just enough to fit perfectly. You take a breath before turning around to face him. His eyes look down to you moving up and down your body at your perfect form in the dress. Never having been more turned on from a woman putting on clothes.
“Wait.” he says you frown looking up at him when his eyes meet your face. He reaches up his hand and moves behind your head pulling the last pin from your hair letting it all fall down your shoulders tucking a strand behind your ear. 
“there…I like your hair down better. You look beautiful.” he says. Pulling his hand away. 
“There's one more thing I wanted.” you say. 
“What?” he asks wanting nothing more than to please you in this moment. 
“You can so no…but. I wanted to dance with you. At least once but I'm afraid I've lost that chance.” you speak. 
“Mm.” he says, taking your hand leading you to the empty middle of the room as he pulls you into him, his hand resting on your lower back, your hand on his shoulder. 
You begin to sway despite the lack of music. The sounds of the crackling fire, and the light clinking of his metal armor such comforting sounds as you move through the space. Moving around as he dances with you, his eyes never taken off of yours, your heart skips a beat everytime his hand is placed back onto your waist. He pulls away for just a second to twirl you.
“Sandor.” you speak, you meet him back in the center. He holds you still looking down to you waiting for you to finish as you look into his brown eyes.
“I love you.” you say. It's quiet almost making you regret confessing but his lips against your treasures everything back into you. Your arms wrap around his neck. He pulls you up off the grown spinning around once. You know he wouldn't be able to say it back but just tell him to give you a lift. 
He places you back down on the ground and you take his hand reaching one hand to your back pulling the string out of the bow he he tied loosening the dress all while walking backwards twords the bed. 
He stops you before the dress loosens enough to fall from your body. Taking your hand in his he pulls it up the strap of his armor set. You give him a smile as you unclip them letting his armor down. You pull off the pieces, shoulders, chest, you take off his dagger and sword belt. He removes his boots to be equally as bare footed as you now leaving him in his pants and shirt. 
He takes one last look at you in the dress before pulling you to him reaching behind you to loosen the ties enough for it to slip off you once again leaving you naked. 
Wasting no time your lips are on each other's hands searching your body. You pull off his clothing and hastily help him remove his pants so he's just as nude as you. 
He picks you up with your legs wrapping around his waist as he lays you down on your back still kissing your lips. You push on his chest pushing him away about to protest. You flip him over so he's on his back and you climb on top of him, your cunt already slick with arousal as your folds brush against his hardened cock. 
He lets out a grunt at your eagerness, you having been so submissive the first time now being more confident. His hands searched up your waist to your breasts giving them a squeeze, his thumbs brushing over your budded nipples. He sits up kissing your jaw and neck for once your height is now level. Your hand presses against his chest unknowingly pressing against the scar he first told you not to touch. 
You look down as he lets out a pained grunt. 
“I'm sorry.” you say. He shakes his head looking at you moving his hand from your breast to your cheek, warmth spreading all over your body as he presses his lips against yours once more. He takes your wrist in his other hand and keeps your hands over the scar before you can pull away. 
On your own terms you move your other hand down his sheet reaching his cock grasping it he groans at the feeling of your touch against him. You raise up a bit, lining it up with yourself. You moved him, the tip sliding up and down your wet folds as you tried to stay steady, your other hand holding onto his shoulder as you centered him to you. Sinking down onto you, you watched as he disappeared into you. 
A moan leaving your lips as he stretches you back open for the second time. He groans deeply burying his face in the crook of your neck, the texture of his scar tickling your neck, a welcomed sensation.  and moved him inside. The pure pleasure you both felt against each other. Sinking down further you engulfs him fully, now having barely adjusted to his size he fills you so well. You place your hand on your stomach feeling the bulge he leaves. 
You move your hips letting out a squeaky moan as he feels so amazing in this position. He kisses your neck finding the sweet spot to make you weaken into him back into the submission state you were housed in the first time you two bedded. 
“F-fuck s-sandor..you feel so good.” you let out a stuttered voice. 
He lays back onto the plushness of the mattress. His hand gripping your hips he views the fading bruises left on your skin only wanting to make more, to mark you up as his. Pure lust blows in his eyes. You look better than the banquet spread early. 
His thrusts up into you getting a moaning yelp from your mouth. 
“Say it again,” he says roughly. 
“Sandor..” you paint already needing to cum just from him entering you and grinding a bit. 
He thrusts up into you again, pleasure surging through you. 
“I won't ask again, little fox.” he says. 
“Ngh..s-so good.” you speak. Prompting him to fuck up into you again this time not stopping. Your nails dig into his chest as he fucks you your hair falling over your face. Two more thrusts and he has you early cumming. 
Your walls spasm around his cock clenching down. Only making him chuckle as you've given out so quickly wanting to last long to please him. But just your presence pleases him. 
You flip you both over, cock still buried inside of you. He pulls your thigh up against his hip resting the rook of your knee on the bone as he thrusts into you. His moans and grunts mixed with your noises fill the room once again. His face hiding in the crook of your neck wanting to be closer to you than he already is. 
“I love you..fuck I love you.” you hear him mumble. If it weren't for the fact that his mouth is close to your ear you wouldn't have heard it. But youre so glad you did. The sound of those three little words go straight to your core as you squeeze down around him causing your tight cunt to suck him in further somehow when he's already balls deep. 
Just like before he pulls your leg higher on his body pushing intro to hitting right up against your special spot one hand now placed behind your head gripping the headboard the other now between your legs thumbing at your clit. The sensation of movement added causes your back to arch in pure pleasure. 
Your head falls to the side, your hands once all over his body fall to the sides of your head gripping the pillow and sheets. Your moans muffled as you bring your hand to your lips biting the back of it. The sound of wod cracking hits your ears before sandor covers you from the splinters of wood from the now broken headboard he broke. 
None of it matters with how much and how good hes fucking you. His thumb is still toying with your clit overstimulating you making you cum for a second time. your hands feel numb and your legs begin to shake. The way you're squeezing him sends him over the edge finally as he roughly thrusts down into you surly bruising your cervix as he cums into you filling you so much you can feel it. 
Your moans are muffled as his lips meet yours and a passionate kiss. The lingering touches and caresses. Before he pulls out away from you. Without having to ask he moves off you pulling you into him letting you know he will not be leaving for the night. 
—----
Nothing could be more perfect than the way you wake up. Sandor sleeps with his head against your chest listening to your heart beat. Your arms around him cradling his head into you his arms strong arms engulfing your waist and ass as your leg is draped over your chest. 
You look around the room not seeing your ladies in waiting who are usually annoyingly roaming around the room. You look at the door seeing that it's latched. Most likely Sandor who got up after you fell asleep and locked it to make sure they stayed out. 
You feel his hand move up your back before he speaks. 
“Stop moving.” he says, his eyes still closed. 
You didn't realize looking around the room was causing a lot of movement. 
“Good morning.” you say kissing his forehead and face. 
“Mm” he grumbles his morning voice somehow deeper than usual. 
He shifts from the position he's in reluctantly but only to move over you and press his lips against yours in a morning kiss. Pulling away he looks at you seemingly glowing to his vision. You get a look at his beautiful brown eyes before he pulls away from you sitting on the edge of the bed you crawl over to him wrapping around him his warmth paced back onto you in the cold room. Even though you're wearing his shirt which he’d put on you during the night.
“Don't go.” you say kissing his scared shoulder blade, a sword scar from a mishap during training. He places his hand on your arm that's around his neck looking down and kissing it before trying to pry you off him. 
“Nooo.” you whine he chuckles, shaking his head and finally succeeds in taking you off. He stands walking over to his scattered clothes before picking them up and beginning to dress. 
“Please sandor.” you whine. Moving to get out of bed but once you stand your legs immediately turn to water, as if you're a baby deer learning to stand for the first time. He hears a soft thud as you hit the ground with a little shriek. 
He turns to you seeing you grabbing the bed pulling yourself up chuckling to himself. 
“Didn't mean to disable you little fox,” he says. 
“That's alright, I don't need to walk today anyway.” you say brushing it off before standing again your legs stronger this time regaining strength. 
“Go back to bed,”  he says, gathering his armor pieces, setting them on the table by the burnt out fireplace. You watch him as he does this. You sit on the bed, legs crossed, his shirt more like a dress on your body. He Looks around for a shirt as if you’re not wearing it. A smile forms on your face as you watch your shirtless lover. 
He takes notice of you sitting and smiling at him. 
“What are you smiling about?” He huffs and notices you have his shirt. 
You shake your head, continuing to smile at him.
“nothing.” You answer. 
“You find my struggle amusing?” He says walking to you making you giggle and scoot back on the bed. He crawls over to you and you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him to you as he kisses your face and neck. 
“I’m gonna need this back now.” He says gruffly. 
“Mmhm.” You answer by pulling him close to you. 
His hands move, hiking up the shirt to your waist. Before you pull him close enough to kiss him. He happily returns it. As his large hand rests under your breast giving it a squeeze causing a gasp put out you breaking the kiss allowing him to pull the shirt up and off of you leaving you naked to his view. 
He gets up and off you walking over to the rest of his armor pieces as he places the shirt on himself, seeming morphing to fit him perfectly. 
You whine now wanting him. He puts on the armor you once took off. 
“Come on little fox don’t act like that.” He says clipping the last of his armor on. 
“What am I doing while you're gone? Relieve myself on the pillows?” You huff. 
“Such crude words.” He grunts. 
“Bad luck to leave your wife wanting and nude. Many things could happen: she could invite a man over clouded by her judgme-“ you're cut off with his hand around your neck pulling you to him a giggle leaving your lips. 
About to speak he decides not to and leaves you with a deep kiss. You shift standing on your knees, his hand tracking down your waist one to the front farther down, swiping your folds, his thick digit entering you, making you gasp out gripping onto his armored shoulders as you moan out of the kiss. 
He pushes in a second thick finger thrusting them in and out of you, his thumb firmly pressed against your clit. His other hand firmly grips your hip keeping you in place. His eyes never leave yours.
“Ngh…s-sandor.” You moan you only promoting him to grab your ass making you moan out as his fingers sink deeper fucking you over and over pressing against the spongy spot against you. Your walls clench around his digits, knees giving out as you cum. You grab onto him wherever you can as he rides out your high.
Pulling his hand away from you You pant at the residual over stimulation. 
“You speak like that again you won’t be able to walk the castle halls for the next day and half.” He says leaning down pulls the sheets over you and around you. giving you one last kiss he turns and walks out making sure not to wipe you off his hand wearing you like a prize for the day. Your hand maidens who were waiting outside rush in making you sigh. 
they stop in thier tracks looking around the room at the scattered garments from you, the broken bed and you wrapped in the bed sheet, hair messed.
Chapter 8 here
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moodymisty · 1 month
Note
If I held konrad and pet his head and maybe ran my fingers through his hair then.. well it wouldn’t fix him but it might calm him down for a little while.
Also on a similar note may I request a konrad x reader?
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[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author’s note: eepy Konrad, coming right up.
Relationships: Konrad Curze/GN!Reader
Warnings: It’s Konrad Curze, Toxic ‘relationship’, Fear and vague illusions to abuse/threats of violence, I mean you're with Konrad like what did you expect lmao
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The sudden sounds of heavy footstep and doors closing jolts you up out of sleep, and you rub your eyes just enough to see Konrad entering the dark room.
He was in another fight, you can instantly tell.
The clothes that Fulgrim had gifted him are disheveled and torn. Blood is dried in the corners of his mouth; His hair is even messier than it usually is. He walks with an awkward gait.
You wonder who it was with this time, as many of the Primarchs have been quite obvious in their unending hatred for him. You can more than understand why, though he doesn't hate them, oddly enough. But their punches do little more than fulfill his own martyring prophesy. Most of them look at him with little more than seething hatred, and you with pity.
“Konrad?”
You whisper hoarsely, still rough from sleep.
He approaches in the near pitch black room, rounding the massive bed. You hear his bare feet on the cold floor, his harsh and ragged breaths.
These moments are some of many that frighten you the most; With Konrad, they could go either way; You have no clue if he’ll snap, and in which way. Sometimes he'll wilt, other times he'll want to make you bleed so he'll forget his own suffering.
The massive bed meant for a man of his size still creaks with effort as he shifts his weight, and flops onto it. In the faint light, it's obvious the blood from his face staining the pillow, and the cuts on his body smearing onto the blankets and your clothes. You can also see him staring off into nothing, lost in thought. He shifts his jaw, and swallows what you presume to be a mix of spit and blood.
Laying on your side you shift upward slightly, leaning on your left elbow. Konrad has no response to your shift in movement.
Some of his hair is stuck to his face, either from blood or sweat, and you take your hand and gently rake it away from his forehead. Your finger glide along through his hair, and you feel his heavy arm pull off the bed and lay over your side, hand laying limp behind your back and holding you down.
You do the same motion again, and again, but you don’t say anything. You won’t risk it. Your hand brushes along his forehead, through his hair, and you can see his eyes shift behind his closed lids.
It’s after what feels like hours does he finally seem to be asleep, and you pull your hand away after tucking a chunk of hair behind his ear. You feel safe enough to sleep again now that he’s lulled, no longer teetering so close to the edge. Both a danger to you and himself. Whatever happened can be dealt with in the morning, or swiftly forgotten among the myriad of other times he's fought with his fellow primarchs.
Shifting off of your elbow to lay back down his arm follows you, still laying over your midsection. It dwarfs your smaller body, covered in a myriad of scars. You're glad he's more comfortable now, but a deeper part of you knows his comfort comes at the expense of your own. Perhaps that's why the other Primarchs pity you so.
You're one of the only things keeping Konrad's feet on the ground, but how much longer can you last?
It only takes moment for you to fall back asleep however, hearing the rare sound of Konrad softly breathing.
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