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#i spent way too much time on the necklace...
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-AVENOIR Featuring Ayato
Meaning: The desire that memory could flow backward
Word Count: 2.26k~
Description: Your marriage to Ayato is wonderful. There’s only one thing missing; children. But Ayato thinks he could fix that
Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach
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You had been in town with Ayato for only half an hour now, and your husband had already, as always, taken every opportunity he could find to spend money on you. You mention that a certain snack looks good? Suddenly, you’re eating it. You mention that a necklace looks pretty? Now it’s packaged up in your hands. You look at a book too long? Now you’re holding that as well.
However, the most inconvenient gift you would receive was whenever you would stare at someone’s kimono with a certain look in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were standing outside of Ogura textiles and kimonos looking for the fabric you had noticed or whatever style you had liked.
Ayato wasn’t always the best with words, especially in public. He maintained his position as the yashiro commissioner to a fault, and he could be just a little bit…reserved. He still expressed his affection for you as best he could, of course. However, that was mainly with many gifts and little affectionate touches, rather than with mushy phrases.
The very first time Ayato had told you that he loved you, it was frankly magical. The two of you had been having a simple dinner at his home, and he had spent almost the entire meal just watching you and contemplating whether or not he should say it. Eventually, you had asked why he hadn’t touched his food yet, and he assured you he was just fine and simply had something on his mind. Naturally, you were curious, so you asked him, hoping to be helpful in whatever way you could. However, when he said the words, “I was just thinking about how much I love you,” with a calm smile and no hint of self doubt, you felt as though you were about to burst with joy. You had been confident that you were in love with him for some time now, but not wanting to scare him off, you had kept it to yourself. You had almost expected that, with the way he was, he might never say it. But clearly, you were quite incorrect. You had immediately closed the distance between the two of you, maneuvering around the table and into his lap the second you recovered from the shock and amazement. He was initially unsure of what to do because he was never very physically affectionate in any remotely public place; however, this time, he got over his discomfort in record time due to the joy he felt from hearing you repeat over and over how you loved him too.
The next time Ayato had shocked you with his lovely words was when he had proposed to you. In all honesty, it was more the proposal that was a shock more than the lovely words but you couldn’t exactly say you were expecting to hear him tell you just how much he loves you in a place as public as the festival that has been being held on Amakane island. Granted, the two of you were alone at the tip of the island under the beautiful sakura tree and mostly away from the crowd, but the second people saw Kamisato Ayato down on one knee they began to gather around. However, that hadn’t stopped him. He had delivered a beautiful little speech and presented you with the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.
Not long after he had proposed, the two of you had gotten married. The ceremony was quite grand and certainly befitting of the yashiro commissioner. You had always been somewhat shy, so being the center of such a huge event was quite difficult to handle. Although, thankfully for you, Ayato had been there for you through it all. When you had forgotten what came next in your vows, he had mouthed the words for you, and when you had started getting scared when you entered the reception and everyone had begun crowding around you, he had immediately made up some excuse as to why he needed to be with his wife alone for a moment, just to give you some space. You loved him with your whole being, and he loved you with all of his.
The two of you made your way to the Kamisato estate. However, the second you stepped past the gate, you were attacked by three little kids who seemed intent on getting the two of you to play with them. Thoma ran out after the kids, clearly trying to wrangle them but failing miserably.
As it turned out, Ayato and Ayaka’s aunt and uncle had come by to visit, bringing their three young children. Their uncle was Ayato’s Mother’s much younger brother, so naturally, their cousins would be younger than them. You had assumed that when Ayato had talked to you about his family, but you didn’t expect them to be this much younger. However, you took it all in stride. You handed the gifts your husband had bought you to Thoma and offered to watch the three kids for a little bit while he got things sorted for the Kamisatos to visit.
You enjoyed playing with the kids, and they seemed to absolutely adore you. You chased them around the best that you could, considering the kimono that you were wearing. You told them stories, and you even braided the girl’s hair while her two brothers pretended to sword fight with sticks.
Ayato felt something stir within him as he watched you play with the kids. He had always been confident that you would make an excellent mother, and having kids was something you both were excited about. However, the timing just never seemed right. But how about now? He couldn’t think of any reason not to. Ayato couldn’t help but allow his mind to stay captive to that thought while he went about the remainder of his day.
That night after the visiting was over and dinner had been eaten, you and your husband were headed back to your shared room for the night. Both of you had drunk a little too much at dinner, encouraged by your husband's aunt and uncle, and you were now holding tightly onto Ayato’s arm as you stumbled down the hall. Ayato was definitely handling his spirits better than you, but you could tell by his flushed face and slightly slurred speech that he was affected by it as well.
At your husband’s insistence, you did your best to go through your nighttime routine, but the both of you were a little… distracted. You had semi-successfully washed your face and were now staring down the prospect of taking off your kimono. Ayato walked out of the bathroom, and you were immediately distracted by the half naked man approaching you. You couldn’t help but run your eyes over his toned body, and you had to fight the urge to walk over to him and run your tongue up his abs.
Suddenly(Read: not so suddenly) he was in front of you, lightly tapping a fist on your forehead.
“Knock, knock, anyone home?”
You smiled and looked up at him.
“Hmm?”
He let out an airy laugh and returned your smile.
“I said, ‘Do you want help taking that off?’”
You took a moment to process his words before nodding. He untied your obi and undid your other belts before sliding the fabric off of you. He took a moment to stare at your body as you adjusted to the cold air.
You both simply gazed at each other’s bodies until Ayato leaned down, rested his hands on your hips, and kissed you. It started out slow and soft, but it only grew increasingly more passionate as the seconds passed. He pulled away from the kiss.
“Get on the bed.”
His voice was commanding and low. So, naturally, you giggled and jumped onto the bed, maneuvering to lay on your back. Ayato climbed over top of you and joined your lips once again. As you kissed, he sat you up slightly so he could toss your bra somewhere else in the room and finally feel your tits. He continued to kiss you as he let his hands wander. Naturally, you did the same. You ran your fingers down his abs and the muscles flexing in his back.
Ayato broke the kiss once again, kissing down your neck and making his way to close his lips around your nipple as he used his hand to play with the other. He drew squeaks and moans from you, alternating his attention and using his tongue oh so deliciously.
From there, he kissed slowly down your stomach until he was running his tongue up your slit. When you felt his tongue on you, you couldn’t stop your hands from finding purchase in his perfect hair. Ayato moaned at the feeling of you pulling at his hair, and you felt like you would simply melt at any given moment. Everything felt so delicious, especially with the state you were in.
Your husband began to slowly push two of his lithe fingers inside of you. He pumped them in and out as he continued to play with your clit. You felt like you were in heaven with how perfect everything was, just you and your dear husband being drunk and in love.
Everything was beginning to overwhelm you, and you felt an orgasm beginning to build inside of you.
“Ayato, ‘m gonna cum!”
Wordlessly, Ayato continued his ministrations until finally you were tipping over the edge. You came with a high pitched moan, desperately gripping your husband’s hair. He gently carried you through your orgasm until you were beginning to whine from overstimulation.
Finally, he relented and sat back on his knees, licking his lips before wiping off his face with the back of his hand, making you blush and let out a drunken giggle as you both came back down to earth.
“I wanna feel you in me…”
Ayato smiled and leaned in to plant a quick kiss on your lips. He wiggled down and stood up at the end of the bed. He maintained eye contact with you while he undid his belt and slid off his pants. You couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up inside of you or the smile that was stuck on your face.
Your husband climbed back over top of you, sliding his hands up the backs of your thighs and pushing them back until your knees were above your shoulders, your ankles hanging over his. He positioned himself at your entrance before beginning to slide inside of you.
“Mmm, feels so good, Ayato!”
He bottomed out inside of you before pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust to his size. After a few moments he began to thrust in and out of you. You let the sensation overtake you and moans flow from your mouth.
You felt Ayato’s fingers slide up your palms to intertwine with your own, and you held his hand tightly, wanting to be as close as possible to your husband. He connected his lips to yours, swallowing up your moans. The both of you kissed and held each other as Ayato continued to fill you up.
Ayato pulled back from the kiss, needing to take a breath. He pulled one of his hands from yours to brace it against the headboard.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so perfect.”
Ayato was doing his best to focus, but he kept finding himself being overtaken by an urge to fill you up and give you both a child. He continued to fuck in and out at an increasingly fast pace, and you were all but melting beneath him, babbling out pleases and mores. He looked into your eyes, and the love and trust he saw reflected back at him made him know for sure, now was the time.
“Do you want me to make you a mommy, baby? Hmm? Want me to fill you up with my cum?”
The thought made your mind wild. All you wanted was his cum to fill up your pretty pussy.
“Please! Wanna make you a daddy!”
With that, his mind was set. He fucked you fast and deep. He wanted this more than anything right now. You could feel yourself approaching your end with how good he was fucking you, and you pulled him in for another kiss. You both stayed connected until you were tipping over the edge and letting out a high pitched moan, uncaring if anyone else could hear you.
You clung desperately to your husband as he worked towards his own orgasm, the overstimulation almost being too much for you. But Ayato whispered gentle words of encouragement and praise to bring you through it gently enough. Finally, he was getting close. His rhythm became progressively more irregular and rushed until he was finally cumming inside of you.
Both of you stayed still for a few minutes, unmoving and silent, recovering from the experience. A giggle broke the silence when you realized what the two of you had decided.
“Are we gonna be parents?”
Your words slurred together but Ayato understood you perfectly.
“Yes, my love.”
You sighed contentedly and let your body fully relax. Ayato pulled himself out of you and got a cloth to clean you both up. He climbed into bed beside you, kissed you gently on the lips, and closed his eyes.
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Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @izzalovesdilfs @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez @k4ze3e @kenmabfasf @vvyeislazzy @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @hopeless-smvt @bloomingheartz @crazydreamcat @kazumiku @str4wb3rizz @kyon-cherri @ravereina @ashrodisiac
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morbific-or-felicific
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m0mmyracc00n · 12 days
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i did a doodle w lady d and my RE8 OC Lukas (She/They lesbian werewolfy baby ehehe)
and yes, we do prefer girls, thanks for asking xD
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eeltime · 1 month
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Ophely Somnum Wannabe necromancer, bane of the wizard council. Woman with incredibly warped morals and a serious monster energy addiction
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paladincecil · 2 months
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I did my first grandmaster quest in osrs tonight :)
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amalasdraws · 6 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/bigmammallama5/732632789726478336?source=share do you have any tips on how to detect ai and deepfakes?
Good question and I'm gonna be honest, it's not always easy and it will only get harder and harder. I'm just an artist who has spent their personal time to dive into this topic and study images. I'm still learning and there is a lot I don't know. But let me show what I know. This will be long, but I will make a summary at the end! So far, even with ai having become better and better there are still almost always some things wrong with an image, and they all have a very specific look to them. So let me try to show you some and point out some of them.
As we all know, a biggest struggle ai had were hands. And even though here and there we still see messed up hands, I say "had", because the hands is actual a good example on how ai is improving and will only get better. Still, looking at pictures that show more hands is always worth it, because somewhere in the back there will be most likely at least one messed up hand.
Another issue a lot of ai still has is hair though!
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It's very obvious still in many ai "drawings" and in those otherwise well rendered portraits. Hair starts to blend with the ears a lot, or with the clothes.
There is also often this very odd look between something too sharp and way too blurry
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There is often a very specific texture to the hair. I actually do not know the artistic or specific name for it. I can only describe it as this weird sharp feeling that makes it look oddly pixely, and then you have areas where it's very blurry. And the kind of loops and almost flame like looking hair we see in the last pic out of the three here is also something very common with ai.
As an artist I know we make mistakes too! The way I draw hair is flawed too! But it's not only that it's flawed here, but it's following always the same pattern and falls into the same issues over and over again, no matter who is "creating" the image. Those flame like loops are a common one, next to the odd blends and weird sharp and blurry textures.
But ai is getting better, and we not only have "art" and something that tries to be a drawing/painting, but photos too.
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A lot of those "photos" have a very specific texture and look to them! Again, it's not always the mistakes, but the very specific optic too. A lot of the images are oddly smooth, too rendered, with always blurry backgrounds. And when you look closer at the background you will see the mistakes! The crowd behind Jesus is a hot mess once you look closer. Bob Marley's hair has the same issue than I described before. Lincoln is surrounded by people with messed up hands and don't even get me started on the faces behind Caesar.
So a lot of ai images look alright on a first and quick glance, but as more time you spend with them, as more mistakes you will notice. The wehre is Waldo of ai horror.
And those "photos" shared here are still very obvious. Not just the mistakes and messed up details but the very specific aesthetic too.
Those images get better and better and as less details you have, as less mistakes you have!
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With photos like this it becomes harder and harder. There are not many details and no hands. Not many mistakes can be made. Also the very obvious plastic looking smoothness isn't so much here anymore. It kinda still is...but differently. And always the blurry background!! Sometimes the hair is still a giveaway. Collars and clothe straps are also often still a giveaway upon close look. As is jewelry. Earrings will be different and necklaces often don't go all the way around, just end, or blend with the hair or clothes.
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Often details on jewelry is also blurry and not shown properly. This is a trick with many details. With jewelry, batches, hair, ears, text. So it's often blurred out and not shown properly because ai doesn't know what to really show here.
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It's often really just the small details and when we scroll down quickly we will miss them. Like the wedding ring on the middle finger, the pens on top of a closed pocket, the batches that are always blurry, messed up faces that blend with a blurry background.
And sometimes it's so subtle that I could only really tell that right is the ai image in comparison to the real photo on the left. The real photo shows hands clearly and even when things are blurred out it doesn't feel that it's done to hide things. The ai image on the right hides the hands. There is also a very dead look in the eyes :D
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And here I could only tell because the text in the back doesn't make sense. Even blurred out we should be able to make out something here
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And after seeing a lot of ai images I recognize the kind of blurred out bg in combination with a very smooth and well rendered foreground/characters.
And here the only giveaway is a closer look at the backgrounds as well
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To summarize it:
Ai and fake news rely on a fast living world. We are being bombarded with tons of information and messages daily and we scroll past quickly. But the best tool, for now, in detecting ai is taking our time! Those images get better and better but so far there are still always some things off!! Especially in the background!
Hair. Often weirdly smoothed out and oddly sharp at the same time
Hair often blends with the ears or the clothes
Details are blurred out.
Jewelry doesn't match (example earrings). Details on metal often blurred out and never shown. Necklaces blend with hair or the clothes, and don't go around the neck.
Background is always blurred out.
In this blurred mess there are often hidden very messed up faces and/or hands.
A very specific smooth and yet too sharp/too rendered aesthetic combines with an always blurry bg.
Text, especialyl in the background, is not legible and doesn't make sense.
Backgrounds are often (so far) the dead giveaway. Somewhere in the back things become muddled and messed up. This shows also very well in ai decor/architecture. There will be odd lines that don't align or align too well. Curtain poles that end in the furniture, a plant that is behind a lamp suddenly having leaves in front of the lamp. As longer you look as more you will notice.
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Conclusion:
Take your time with images! Sit with them! Especially when it's framed as important and political news. Is it ai and propaganda, or did it really happen? Don't fall for the quick buzz and outrage! Some things are obvious right away but with others you have to take your time. And it's time you have! If you are still unsure if a pic is real or not, do some research on top. Image reverse search. Can you find it anywhere else? Are other news outlets sharing it? Does the image/message make sense? For example there is now a deepfake of Bella Hadid voicing support for Israel. Ask yourself, does this make sense? If it feels out of line compared to previous behavior, do some research! Media literacy is not just as being able to recognize a fake or real right away, but being able to do research. To question things! Don't just take every post online for face value. Even when shared by a mutual you trust. They might have been tricked!
There are so many information online and it's great to have access to so information, but it's also difficult to wade through all of it. Media and truth are a weapon and it's being twisted and bend used to manipulate. Always has! But ai and so many people being able to post and share things, it becomes bigger and bigger and more dangerous. So don't just take everything that is handed to you and share it further no questions asked. Media literacy and being able to think for ourselves and do the research is important!! And as research becomes harder and harder, as sources are being messed up with ai and other fake news, it's even more important to sit with the images and study them. See the flaws, the mistakes. Compare it to other news and images.
This got long, and I started to ramble at the end. Sorry But I hope this helped
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luveline · 1 month
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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
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hischierhoney · 13 days
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Just Friends
Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader
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summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words
warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(
Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.
You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”
He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”
Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.
You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.
“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.
Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”
“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”
Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.
“Don’t,” he whispers.
Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“
“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”
He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.
“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.
You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”
He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.
…..
Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.
Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.
He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.
Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.
When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.
Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.
“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”
“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”
“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”
“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”
Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.
…..
The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.
It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.
He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.
He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.
He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.
It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.
You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”
Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”
That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.
He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.
“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”
He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”
He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.
The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”
You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.
You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.
He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.
…..
It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.
He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.
“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“
“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”
“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”
Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.
“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.
He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.
His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.
Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.
He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.
“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.
You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”
God, he wishes.
…..
Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.
They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.
There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.
When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.
“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”
He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”
You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”
Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.
“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“
He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.
“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”
He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.
“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”
God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.
…..
Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.
He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.
“You’re here,” he says, quietly.
Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”
He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.
“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”
He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.
“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.
He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.
“You’re pretty,” you say back.
He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”
“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.
“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.
“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.
“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”
If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.
You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”
And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.
You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”
He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”
It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.
You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”
He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“
Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.
“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”
By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.
“She can stay,” Jack says.
You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.
He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.
“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.
Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.
Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”
Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.
“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.
He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”
You nod. “I know.”
He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“
You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”
Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.
“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”
You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”
That’s enough for Jack, for now.
He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.
“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.
You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.
“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”
When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.
…..
He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.
Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”
Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”
“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”
He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.
He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.
He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.
“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.
“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”
You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.
a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
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♡ — 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐑𝐄 | 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃!𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑
— TW: smut, praise, dark themes, age gap, leve yandere, age gap, friend of your farher!albert wesker, v!sex, manipulation, nsfw, distorted mind, oral, afab anatomy, blackmail, recorded sex, daddykink, no pronouns used besides 'you'.
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♡—Wesker was a sick man, he knew that, but Albert's darkest desires could not be ignored for long. He was your dad's co-worker, and to tell the truth, he hated the man, however, there was something about your father that interested him... You.
♡— Wesker, unfortunately for you, laid eyes on you, it was just small glances behind the dark lenses of his glasses, but soon after, you were already in the scientist's darkest thoughts. He thought you were a precious thing, a little pearl that needed to be protected by him, so he decided to get even closer to your dad, it was so easy to manipulate the man and infiltrate your family that Albert found it pathetic, but he needed you... Being close to you, you were eating away at his mind with every bitter second that passed in the older man's abjacent solitude.
♡— Wesker could just get rid of anyone in the worst way possible and lock you up in a place isolated from everything and everyone, make you his untouched little doll, lock you in a glass dome and watch you all day — he could force you to loving him, worshiping him like a god, he wanted to make you walk on the ground he walks on and see your tongue lick every drop of his seed, things escalated very quickly for him, but he didn't care, in the blonde's head, he was a superior being, and could do anything he wanted.
♡— Wesker researched every strong and weak point of your personality, in a few days he had a folder and raw files of hours and hours of recordings of you, either with the wiretap he secretly placed on your cell phone, or with the cameras hidden behind home — which he put it when he went to your house, to drink some wine and hand over some papers from the umbrella to your dad — or for the hours he spent stalking every post of yours on the internet. He knew everything about you... Absolutely everything, you were his obsession, you were his property and his alone... It didn't take long for you to realize that.
♡— Wesker began with calm touches, as if he were watering a flower, wetting your petals of desire with the nectar of hot, forbidden touches. He would pay you so much attention, wearing the best smile behind his serious and cold face, his lips would always have an expression of comfort for you — He would always shower you with sweet nicknames, telling you how proud he is of you always giving your best to you. college grades, or how good you were. He would divert your father's attention just to visit you in your room, giving you expensive gifts that you had wanted for a long time. "— I just remembered you baby, it suits your eyes, don't worry about the value sweetheart." Albert would speak in a hoarse tone, placing the emerald necklace around your neck, brushing his fingers for too long on your skin and leaving soon after, leaving you with a confused feeling in your chest and a heat in your core.
♡— Wesker has been mentally writing down the best nicknames he can think of. "— My Prince/Princess, My doll, My baby boy/baby girl, My little gem, My good boy/girl, honey, darling, dear, sweet little thing." And all of them are accompanied by mischievous phrases and smiles. " — Good job prince/princess, you did well... Keep it up." " — you really are a cute little thing, aren't you? Making Daddy happy." The scientist would purr in your ear, away from your father's eyes... Not that he cares much, but he loves the feeling of adrenaline, seeing your face blush, you would be a mess for a simple compliment or word of affirmation... It was so cute to him, like a stalking prey, a deer lost and beautiful in the snow.
♡— Wesker knew that resisting his charm was never an option, and it wouldn't be. He is a man who knows how to play his cards right, and it wouldn't take long for him to trap you in his web of manipulation and possession, he would make you his body, mind and soul, break you to the breaking point.
♡— Wesker would have luxurious dinners at his penthouse, calling his family, an excuse to see you again. He would get your dad drunk enough to pull you to some corner of the house and pull down your clothes, slapping your ass hard as he knelt kissing your clit, forcing you to lean against the cold wall while he fucked you out. "— Fuck imagine if your father comes in here and sees his sweet son/daughter like that? Fucking his friend?" Albert smiled mischievously, as he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you to the sides, leaving you well prepared for him. He would hold you with his strong arms, taking you to the table where your father slept drunk, fucking you in front of the man's sleepy body. " — Fucking h-hell Mmm- imagine if he wakes up? Seeing you like this? Seeing that you're nothing but a fucking slut." He babbled, pushing the base of his dick into your cunt, while you covered your moans with your hand, feeling your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure.
♡— Wesker will fuck you in your own house, making an excuse for your father who needs to recommend some colleges to you, while he aggressively beats you on the mattress, tying your ankles with his tie, while overstimulating your pussy, inserting his shaft repeatedly into your uterus, he'll just take out even the tip and put it all in at once with a sadistic smile on his thin lips. "—I could fuck you like this all day."
♡— Wesker would say such dirty and sweet things to you while turning you into a dumb mess. " — Your sweet little pussy is made for my cock, isn't it?" His free hand reaches down to caress your breasts, pinching and pinching your sensitive nipples, eliciting more moans from your lips. He continues to tease and torment you, pushing you closer to the edge of orgasm before pulling back, prolonging your agony - and his, you could beg and whimper, as he takes a cell phone out of his pocket, focusing on your wet, abused hole. " — Oh, you little slut," he grows. " —I love the way you look when my cock stretches you out like this Ah- Fuck sweetheart-" And just as you're about to fall, he slows down once again, prolonging your ecstasy, the buildup almost unbearable. "—Not yet, my dear," he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with wicked delight. "—You will come when I say so. Only when I give you permission."
♡— Wesker will take several photos of your body covered in semen, in compromising positions and with his dick in your mouth, videos, gifs or any digital media available, he will manipulate and chat you so that you are always his, always stay on his side.
" — You will never run away from me, my little pet... Or else... Your father and all your family, friends... They will know what a whore you are, so just be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boys/girls don't think."
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©𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇 2023
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randomshyperson · 7 months
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Do I Wanna Know - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #05
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Summary: Taking advantage of the fact that the Avengers are going through a divorce, you decide to visit your (not-so-secret) girlfriend in the compound. While they fight, you entertain Wanda and present her with a third option besides staying in the tower or fighting Steve Rogers: to run away with you.
Warnings: (+18), shapeshifting reader, some talking of gender identity, implied gender neutral but use of female pronouns, established and secret (ish) relationship, canon-divergence, bottom!Wanda, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, intimate teasing, praising, general fluff.  | Words: 4.131k
This work was turned into a series. Check the masterlist here.
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
It got more dangerous every time it happened. But getting caught, and all the consequences that would come with it, were distant ideas, possibilities that didn't cross Wanda's mind, especially when she was at your place.
She didn't think about the team, the country, what anyone else might think and judge about the relationship - if she could call it that - between the two of you.
All Wanda could focus on when she was around you was undeniably you.
It became a secret routine, a hidden part of her life that she looked forward to almost all the time. Between tiring and dangerous missions, a new excitement among the gray corners of the private life of what many would call the most powerful Avenger.
Nobody knew about you, not the way she did anyway. What the others saw was the smuggler with no loyalty - the thief who stole and would steal from anyone in her path, for the best price. And could also take anything she was paid to take. From a diamond necklace to an infinity stone, from the most exclusive party of the world's elite to the secret country in the middle of the African continent. 
Sometimes, Wanda would trace Wakanda's scar on your skin while you slept, and wonder if the person you were at that moment was the same person that King T'Challa wanted behind bars for a few pieces of metal.
The moral part didn't bother her much - if she was honest, Wanda understood impressions and what really mattered very well. Coming from a country exploited by the United States, which praised a man in blue who was very reminiscent of the captains who marched to the corners of the world to massacre cities, to one who wore iron armor and produced the same bombs that took the lives not only of her parents, but of the vast majority of the children she grew up with, Wanda understood hypocrisy like no one else. Despite everything that had happened to her, she shared a roof with the man indirectly responsible for her parents' deaths. No one could judge her so easily, but Wanda was sure that if your relationship went public, it would happen in the blink of an eye.
So when she was fleeing, for hours between one mission and another, one meeting and another, she tried to enjoy you as much as possible.
And sometimes, when you were apart for too long, and she worried that she was beginning to forget the features of your face, Wanda could prepare a surprise.
She could lie, taking advantage of her magic or not, to prolong everything from your time together to the sensations you shared in bed. She could haunt you - and you would use that term because, without her around, the feeling of lack was very similar to that of loss.  - Wanda would invade your dreams, like a sigh in the night never to leave your mind.
But more often than not, she would simply mark you with hickeys and scratches on everything hidden beneath your uniform, and you might leave a path of purple through the valley of her breasts that would be the only proof of the hours she had spent enjoying your company.
The Avengers were on a thin line now - Accords, fights, and old friends, and neither you nor Wanda knew it, but soon, the world would see you two the same way. 
Criminals on the run.
But the future hasn't arrived yet - And Wanda, unbeknownst to you, was locked away in a tower like an ancient princess, and you, against the advice of your own safety, went to visit a damsel who wasn't so much defenseless but would definitely be distress to see you there.
"You can't be here." The warning came against your lips, pressed into hers half a second after your arrival into the room - you could only kiss back, smiling at the tug on your leather jacket that fell to the floor behind your feet. 
"I missed you too princess." That's what you said back, your hand wrapped around her waist as your tongue slid into hers. 
Wanda sighed, her body yearning for your touch and presence just as much as her heart for the last few weeks without seeing you. Despite pushing you around the room, until you were sitting on the bed, Wanda interrupted the motions, her frown of concern and her out-of-rhythm breathing escaping through her swollen, ajar lips.
"I'm serious." She begins a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "They can't see you here-"
"The Avengers aren't home, I was told." You justify quickly, your gaze wandering to look her up and down. Wanda always looked so beautiful, it was almost unfair. "United Nations meeting, everyone's talking about it."
One of your hands plays with the folds of her skirt, pulling it up, but Wanda pushes them away.
"Most of them, yes, but I'm not alone." She murmurs, looking around and undeniably using magic to check the floor. "Vision is keeping me company."
"Which one is Vision anyway?" You retort casually, not caring about the last gesture, moving your hands under her clothes and biting back a smile at the way her thigh muscles quiver with your touch. 
Wanda rests her other hand on your shoulder, her gaze serious. "The one with the damn magical stone you once stole from Hydra." She retorts, sighing softly as she feels your fingers playing with the laces of her panties. "Please, detka. Vision... would kill you if he found you here."
You click your tongue. “I could disguise myself…” But Wanda shakes her head.
“The stone can see beyond.” She retorts with a certainty that makes you assume this information came directly from her team's study of the Stone. But instead of answering right away, you pull her by the thighs onto your lap, smiling mischievously at the surprised yelp that you muffle on your lips. Wanda tries to listen to reason, but it's too faint compared to the pounding of her own heart. 
"Don't make a sound and he'll never know." You whisper your last request before kissing her intently, your bold hands teasing inside her blouse. It doesn't take long for Wanda to be restless in your lap, panting against your tongue exploring her mouth so hungrily, sweating with the precise stimulation of her nipples as your hands pull down her dark bra. But despite a mind almost completely clouded with arousal, she bites at your lower lip and breaks the kiss.
"I missed you." Wanda likes you to know these things because sometimes, you have less than an hour together and it feels like one of those times. She hasn't seen you for weeks, and God knows when she'll get another chance now that the team seems on the verge of collapse. 
You give her a teasing smile, your hands wrapped around her. "You're so sweet, Wanda. My beautiful, darling, princess." Your compliments were accompanied by chaste kisses against her jaw, and it always works to leave her a mess, melting into you and at your beck and call. 
In the safety of your embrace, Wanda risked being vulnerable:
"Did you miss me too?"
You're not so good at these things - It comes from your past, so different from her happy childhood although later overshadowed by the height of a civil war as a teenager, but definitely different from growing up in Tony Stark's mansions and summer houses, or surrounded by family lunches like Bruce Banner or Thor. If anything, your childhood was closer to that of a Black Widow, with training and punishments whenever the expectations were not achieved. 
Still, Wanda warmed her way into your heart, and you tried to give back as best you could.
"I don't really think about you when I'm away." Her expression drops immediately, but before she can conclude anything, you move one of your hands to grab hers, and bring it back inside your blouse. Your intense gaze is the only thing stopping her from pulling away. And when Wanda can feel a new scar near your abdomen, she swallows dryly. "Or rather, I just have to force myself not to do anymore. What you're feeling happened in Berlin. An MK2 hidden in the belt of an arms dealer who asked me... how much I was enjoying America." You narrate, and Wanda frowns, being able to visualize the memory fresh in your mind. You swallowed and looked down at your lap. "I don't know how much he knew, but he said your name, and I just... flinched. I was blinded by rage and he took advantage of it. So, no, Wanda. I can't afford to let you cross my mind when I'm away, because you become a weakness. And I wasn't trained to have weaknesses."
Despite the way her body warms to the confession, Wanda gives you a playful look.
"Should I apologize, you know, for making a romantic out of the grumpy assassin?" she teases, and you chuckle, spinning her around in a tug to drop her on her back on the bed, you on top. 
With your body pressed into hers, one hand on her waist and the other adjusting her hair away from her eyes, you nuzzle your noses together. "Don't ever apologize for making me feel this way." You whisper, and Wanda closes her eyes in anticipation, her cheeks burning. "You have me in a way that no one ever could, Wanda Maximoff."
The next kiss is intense and charged with meaning. It makes Wanda shudder and gasp into your mouth. You smile, secretly proud of the effect you have on her, while your hands move down to pull her thighs up and make her wrap herself around you, ankles locked behind your knees.
The position elicits a deep moan from the girl beneath you, and when you adjust yourself to press your pelvis against her, Wanda chokes in surprise, opening her eyes.
"Is that...?"
Without losing your relaxed posture, you offer her a little smile full of the worst intentions. "I thought I'd play differently today." You reply, grinding gently against her and making Wanda bite her lips. The movement leaves you equally affected, but you let her know: "I can always change back..."
Wanda tightens the grip of her legs around you, shaking her head. Her cheeks turn pink. "N-no! I like... I like you either way." She manages to whisper, and you smile warmly, kissing her softly. 
One of your hands comes down to invade her blouse, starting an intense making-out session between you, enough to mess up your hair and the bed sheets and leave you hard against her thigh.
When Wanda stops to breathe again, there's a wet spot on the thigh she's spent the last few minutes grinding against - and you take the opportunity to plant kisses on her collarbone. Your hands go down to unbutton your pants.
Between kisses, you warn her: "I have to be careful... I think it works like a real one. Speaking of biological functions, you know. "
She uses magic to force your pants down to your ankles, aroused enough that the delay was driving her to the brink of insanity. Still, she manages to gasp between kisses: "You think?"
You hum, distracted by the sensation of your cock rubbing against her covered intimacy - body shuddering with arousal. "Y-yes... I've never... used it for sex before... Just for the job, you know? While in disguise."
The information made Wanda need to ignore the liquid arousal and press trembling hands onto your shoulders, gently pushing you away and attracting your attention.
After a sigh, she asked: "Are you comfortable, darling? With this of course... I don't know the exact feel of your powers, but I don't want you to think you need to change a single thing about yourself for me. Who you are is incredible and enough."
You break into a loving sigh and attack her face with kisses that make Wanda giggle shyly. "You're too sweet on me, Maximoff." You tease, and wrap your arms around her on the bed, hugging her tightly. Wanda bites her lips, still well aware of your lust brushing her, but trying to ignore the sensation in case you change your mind. After all, just your presence after so many weeks away was what she really wanted. Sex was just a bonus. 
Somehow, she ends up on top again, your foreheads touching. 
"It's different because of my powers, everything they do for me, changing my body as needed, you know? But still, I feel that even without these abilities, these details wouldn't make any difference to me." You confess with a sigh, one of your hands stroking behind her back. "Whether my body resembles of a boy or a girl, I say. In my head, I'm always in the middle, or outside of it. I can't explain it very well, and I’m still trying to understand it better but… I know for a certain that I want to make you feel good. In any of the ways I’m able to."
Wanda absorbs your words for a moment, her heart pounding and her chest warm with tenderness. She doesn't know exactly when she fell for you - whether it was from the first second your eyes met, or whether it was over time, between flirtations and arguments, until finally, she had the courage to act on those feelings and was lucky that you held on to them as much as she did.
Instead of answering with words, she kisses your skin. Your cheeks, your jaw, and your lips, while her hands touch wherever they can. It takes you by surprise, the familiar sensation of her magic on your clothes until you're both skin to skin on the mattress. Wanda sighs deeply, still with her eyes closed, as she adjusts herself on your lap, but looks up at you again before shifting to fit into you.
"Are you ready, love?" You whisper against her lips, one hand on her waist, the other lining up at her warm entrance. Wanda welcomes you with breathtaking heat - you slide in easily, yet she gasps until she gets used to the sensation of being filled, her hands firmly on your shoulders. You sigh too, trying not to get lost in the sensation as you ask: "Can I move?"
"Y-yes, please." She practically meows impatiently, her forehead falling against your shoulder as your hips move upwards, gently thrusting inside her. But Wanda clenches inside, hot and eager, and you grunt, trying to hold in your own pleasure. She grinds down against your hips, the sound of her wet arousal echoing between you. Your hands tighten on her hips, and you gradually increase the speed, making Wanda gasp between moans against your ear. "Dorogoy... that feels so good..."
You manage to gasp back, nodding softly in agreement: "You have no idea how amazing you feel, baby... so fucking wonderful... God..." It takes you by surprise, the first reach of your climax. You try to hold back, but Wanda bites your skin hard as she feels the warm shot on her walls, and your grunt turns into a heavy moan as you spill inside her. Wanda wraps her arms around your shoulders, grinding gently as you throb out the last drops, which soon run down her thighs.  A moment later, your voice hoarse, you whisper: "I'm sorry, babe. I didn’t... know it would be so hard to hold it..."
She giggles shyly, kissing your skin before looking at you again. A mischievous gaze. "Do you need a break, or perhaps that was the highlight of the night...?" She teases, but you snort in fake indignation, fixing your grip on her waist to flip her onto the bed. The gasp of surprise turns into a muffled whimper as you thrust inside her powerfully, hard again as if you hadn't just come. Her hands move to your waist, and her nails dig into your hips with each thrust.
"You were saying?" You challenge softly, panting against her lips. Wanda chuckles under her breath, one of her legs tucking behind yours, increasing your reach deep inside her. With each thrust in, she shuddered and gasped on the bed, closer and closer to the edge. You lowered yourself completely, pinning her to the mattress and burying yourself inside her as you felt her become impossibly tight. Wanda came in a high-pitched whimper, her nails digging into your lower back just enough to make a mark. You kissed her jaw, rocking gently as she still rode the waves of her own climax.
When you suddenly pulled out, cumming against her soaked and abused pussy, she mewed in protest, her leg trying to pull down and back inside of her. You chuckled hoarsely.
"Baby, I shouldn't have come inside the first time." You whispered, kissing her cheek. "I have to be careful, it's not replication, I transform truly. Let's get you a pill after this, all right? And we'll need some condoms for next-."
"Problems for later." Wanda cuts in good-naturedly, pulling your face back to hers and kissing you intently, effectively silencing any rational thought in your head.
It's honestly the best you've felt in a long time - as it usually is when you're around Wanda Maximoff.
It shouldn't surprise you that much when a few hours of rolling around in bed together, the moment is interrupted by knocks on the door.
Wanda, naked and panting, is sitting on your hips, and you're inside her still, ready to come again when she practically jumps away, and you have to muffle the grumble of frustration against her pillow.
"Y-yeah?" she manages to ask the visitor, sitting on shaky knees on the bed, one hand pulling the covers over her body. 
It takes a moment, but the male voice answers: "Sorry to disturb you, Wanda, but I made dinner. Won't you join me?"
She pushes the fingers you threaten to drag between her legs away, a smile playing on her lips.
"I'm not hungry, Vision, thank you."
There's another pause, in which Wanda throws you warning glances to stop trying to touch her before the robot speaks again, more seriously than before.
"Wanda, can we talk? Please."
She frowns, and exchanges a look with you, who sigh, rolling your eyes and looking away, your chest burning with a strange sensation. Using magic to bring one of the robes to her after muttering "One second", Wanda stumbles to the bedroom door, which she leaves with only a small gap to the corridor.
"Vis, it's not a good time-
"She shouldn't be here, Wanda." Vis cuts in, and you tense up on the bed. But he makes no mention of entering the room, and Wanda comes out wrapped in her robe, covering the ajar door with her body as a dry laugh escapes her.
"That's none of your business."
The man shakes his head in disbelief, and his tone of voice, although restrained, can be heard by you inside the room.
"Wanda, please be rational." He insists seriously. "At such a delicate moment for the Avengers, to bring... a criminal into the tower..."
"Vision, go away."
He sighs, hesitantly. "I should report this." He mutters, and although you can't see Wanda's face, you can see the way her shoulders tense and you can imagine the hardness of her expression.
"Do as you wish, but know, I will never speak to you again if anything happens to her."
Vision shakes his head. "And where do you think their choices will lead? If it's not the Avengers, it'll be the police who capture her. Interpol, or whichever organization finds her first. What they're doing, Wanda, has no future and you know it." He says, sighing in disapproval. "Send her away now, or I'll warn the others." Vision announces at last.
"Maybe I'll just go with her." Wanda retorts, but Vision chuckles dryly.
"You have no idea what's happening outside those walls, Wanda." He retorts seriously. "The fine line we're on. Mr. Stark is trying to keep everyone out of danger, and after everything we caused in Lagos,  wandering around without signing the Accords is out of the question."
Wanda chokes in surprise. "What... Am I not allowed to leave the tower?"
Vision clears his throat, nodding. "It's for the safety of the civilians." He retorts coldly. "Although I believe your intentions are good now, your record as a Hydra terrorist and recent events are not in your favor. It's best, for everyone, that you stay here until things settle down and all the signatures are counted."
Wanda is speechless at the absurdity, but in the meantime, you're already dressed and she jumps softly when your hand opens the rest of the door. Vision's eyes go wide, but you just give him a forced smile.
"Hey, microwave, long time no see." You greet sarcastically, and the man adjusts himself.
"Unfortunately not long enough." He retorts coldly. 
"Jeez, someone's rusty." You grumble, but he looks at you seriously.
"Don't abuse my patience, Miss. You have fifteen minutes to leave this tower, or I'll call National Security with your location."
You rest your arm on Wanda's shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "Wow, am I that important?"
Vision takes a hard step forward, but Wanda's magic pushes him back with a jolt. You laugh at his indignant expression.
"That's enough, Vision. She's leaving soon, and you're leaving now." Wanda warns, at last, her irises bright red. The synthesizer begrudgingly gives you one last threatening look and leaves the corridor. 
You wrap your arms around Wanda again to kiss her hard as you close the door with your foot, but she doesn't match the intensity, and soon, her hands are on your shoulders, gently pushing you away and stopping the kiss. 
At your confused expression, she swallows dryly. "You should go." She whispers, fear in her eyes. "I know he meant it. And I don't want to ruin this night with you getting shot by some federal agent."
You hesitate, but end up nodding, kissing her on the cheek before walking away to get your shoes.
But as you put them on, and Wanda hugs her own body, you take a chance:
"You know you don't have to stay here, right?" You begin a little upset. "You could do like that archer guy and ask for a retirement. Or have your friends forgotten that you've already saved the world once and therefore, you don’t owe any of them shit?"
Despite the childish stubbornness in your tone, Wanda smiles sadly before retorting. "I don't think they've forgotten, but things are more complicated than before. And I'm not like Clint Barton, darling." She retorts, swallowing dryly. "I don't have a family to go back to."
You frown, absorbing the words in silence as you finish tying your sneakers. And then, as if it wasn't the sweetest thoughtful thing you've ever said to her, you declare:
"I could be family, Wanda."
She looks away for a moment because she doesn't want to cry in front of you. She has the impression that you won't leave - and she needs you to go so that you can be safe - if you notice the tears. 
Sniffling softly, and wiping her face before you notice, Wanda asks. "Do you really mean that?"
You stand up, moving closer to her to hold her cheeks. "Every word." You assure her with a smile. "We could travel the world, and have lunch and dinner in different places every day. We would buy all the most expensive and tacky things just because we can..."
Wanda giggles shyly at the fantasy, allowing herself to believe it for just half a second. She holds your hands cupped around her face afterward and sighs.
"It's a beautiful dream, darling."
You swallow dryly, staring at her. "Just a dream, isn't it?" You sigh sadly, and she nods just as upset.
Her tone is very low, like a secret. "They'll find you eventually. And I... God knows how much my power will grow. I can't trust myself outside of here, without the help of training. Stark's containment plans. And I know it's horrible, but I don't want to hurt anyone. Ever again. And if I went with you, with this life you lead, eventually, I would."
You swallow dry, sighing in understanding. This time, it's you who sniffles.
“I’m always one call away, Wanda Maximoff. Whenever you need me, just pick up the phone.” Wanda feels her chest warm at your words, but all she does is smile tenderly against the kiss you place on her lips. 
Unknown to both of you, it won’t take long for her to call. With really unexpected big news.
Two of them precisely.
-&-
This work was turned into a series. Check the masterlist here.
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yuujispinkhair · 7 days
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Hi Winter~
I hope you're having a great day✨
Today is my birthday! Could I request something with modern boyfie Sukuna?
I love youuuuuuuuuuu🥺✨
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, BABE 💗 Have an amazing day!! I wish you all the love and happiness! Here is a little drabble ;)
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SPENDING YOUR BDAY WITH BOYFIE SUKUNA
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + mentions of smut. 18+. Minors don't interact.
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Modern boyfie!Sukuna wakes you up with bday sex. And he makes sure to love his bday girl thoroughly, not stopping until you squeal his name and scratch his broad, tattooed back while he groans "Happy birthday, princess," against your neck.
He insists on carrying you princess-style to the bathroom afterward, cradling you in his strong arms and kissing your forehead. And when you jokingly ask him if carrying you around is part of his bday special, Sukuna grins that sexy boyish smirk at you and is like,
"Of course, I'm carrying you. My girl doesn't have to lift a single finger on her special day! What kind of loser would I be if I didn't take the best care of you?"
And you laugh and cup his tattooed cheeks and kiss him. Though, you know that Sukuna takes such good care of you all the time, not just on your birthday. You smile while soaking in the bathtub in your favorite bubble bath, your skin still tingling from Sukuna's kisses and touches while he is in the kitchen preparing your bday breakfast.
And then you are finally dressed and make it to the kitchen, your boyfriend's beautiful maroon eyes sparkle at you full of pride and love as he presents to you the birthday cake he made for you.
Sukuna spent three days working on it, baking all of it himself, and making all the decorations himself, too. It's truly a masterpiece, and you grin happily, imagining how much your dear boyfie must have cursed during the process anytime something didn't work the way he wanted. But it turned out perfectly. And he did all that for you. Because you are his love.
You hug Sukuna tightly, thanking him and unable to stop smiling as he turns you around so you can try the first piece of your cake while Sukuna stands behind you, his strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you, his tall body pressing lightly against your back. His large hands sprawl over your hips, and you can feel his smile against your neck when he kisses you there.
"I love you, princess. Happy birthday."
He lets you feed him cake later on, making you laugh when Sukuna rolls his eyes in pleasure and praises his own baking skills, though you agree with him because the cake really tastes heavenly.
But the cake isn't all Sukuna has planned. This day is only for you and him, and he takes you shopping later on and gives you the rest of your presents, beautiful flowers, and a necklace he saw you ogling once when you were window-shopping.
Sukuna's large, tattooed hand holds yours the whole time you stroll through the streets and the shopping malls. And you can't help but lean against him, smiling happily when you smell his sexy cologne and feel his buff biceps flex against your cheek.
In the evening, Sukuna leads you to your favorite restaurant, where he booked a table decorated with rose petals and candles. It's the most romantic dinner you've ever had, with Sukuna looking so sexy in the suit he is wearing for the special occasion and smiling that dazzling smile that is only reserved for you. He truly made you feel like a birthday girl today 💗
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AWWW spending your bday with boyfie Sukuna sounds so sweet to me. I hope you enjoyed it!! Have a wonderful day 💗💗
Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments would be sweet.
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hotpinkstars · 10 days
Text
PREGNANCY CONFLICTS - boothill x reader
- boothill "passes" a few days after you announce your pregnancy. he's soon returned to you as a cyborg, and has a rough time with all of the realizations he discovers during your pregnancy.
- thank u guys sm for all the compliments im getting in my inbox about my idea and my writing i love every single one of u guysssss 💋 💋 and now the fic for my idea is finally here! i hope you guys enjoyyyyy
- mentions of insecurity, PREGNANCY, boothill is sad in this shdjfjsks so pretty much hurt no comfort in a very mild way, "M,d,y" means month, day, year, his way of death is not canon i made something up!!! wc 1.5k
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Boothill has always talked about being a father. With how optimistic about your guys’ future he was, you could already tell he’d be a great, great father. So when you announced your pregnancy to him, he was ecstatic.
He spun you around in the air, putting you down to kiss you passionately. To him, all of his dreams have come true. As if you’ve given him a strong purpose in life, to not only protect you but to protect his little, and hopefully more to come.
“Thank you,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he held you tightly. “Thank you for giving me such an opportunity.”
But then a few days after you announced it to him, he went missing. You spent day and night trying to contact people, get cops on the case, and go out there with someone yourself and try to find him. The cops brought a necklace, splotched in blood, with your initials on it. Saying they found his body and it was barely recognizable. They knew it was him because of the necklace around his neck and the wedding band that was stuck on a stray tree branch.
As both of those were returned back to you, you felt as if you couldn’t look at them without absolutely breaking down. You were set under the impression that he was gone forever. You felt horrible- not only for yourself, but the life you assumed your baby would have, being born into a world where they only have a mother who's trying her absolute best to provide and make sure their life goes as smoothly as possible.
On the 16th week of your pregnancy was when you heard a knock on the door late at night. Who could it be at this hour? You irritatingly got up and walked over to see who would be there.
It was who you were least expecting.
Boothill.
You stood there, unable to register what was happening. You had a hand on your stomach and the other was gripping the door handle. He stopped and stared at you back before beginning to speak.
“Y/n,” he said, nearly a whisper before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t step back, which was a good thing in his eyes.
“Boothill? What- how- huh?” You were absolutely speechless, unable to register the man standing in front of you. He’s dressed a lot differently then how you last saw him- he looked so western. He was western before he was pronounced dead, the accent is what got you in the first place. He’d always go to bars and all of that.
But he never looked so… out of place.
You’ve never seen the boots he had on before. You’ve never seen those pants (why do they look so slutty?) and his shirt was a whole other thing.
But the thing that intrigued you the most was that he was still standing, alive in front of you, but with a fully metal body.
“Come in and explain yourself,” you sighed, turning around and leading him into the all-too-familiar place. It still smelled the same way it used to, flowers and vanilla. He sat down on the white couch, leaning back into the same fabric he knew all that time ago.
But the difference was, he couldn’t feel it.
“How are you here? There's no way you’re real,” you shake your head, standing up and leaning into his face. You grab his chin lightly, turning his head both way before running your hands through his still silky hair. “Answer my questions.”
“Alright, shoot em.”
“When did you get me pregnant?” You ask, still looking into his now different eyes.
“Four months ago. You should be 16 weeks now.”
You nodded. “When's my birthday…?”
“M,d,y.”
You nodded. He was on it, and it’s convincing you even more that he was your Boothill.
“Lastly, why are you metal?”
“My body was destroyed. Y’ probably remember it,” he looked down at his hands before bringing them up to your cheek. You slightly flinched from the chill before nodding for him to continue his story. “I don’t remember th’ exact details, but jus’ say it was a failed mission.”
You looked at him up and down before sitting beside him.
“D’you still… love me?” He mumbled, almost soft enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention.
You took a moment of silence before responding to his question. “Of course I do. You’re my husband, Boothill.”
To that he smiled and brought you into a strong kiss. One passionate and greedy- he’s been starved of you as you have of him for the past four months. Once he broke it off, you both connected your foreheads before going back into a full blown make out session.
Your pregnancy is incredibly taxing for the cyborg to handle. Instead of flesh and blood he has metal. He can’t feel you, and to him, it’s the worst feeling in the world. He truly wishes he could turn back time to right before the night of the accident.
He wishes he was able to return home safe, so he could be there for your whole pregnancy. He basically missed the entire first trimester!
At this point, you marked 32 weeks. Your pregnancy was very noticeable and Boothill took a lot of pride in being alongside you, shedding his insecurities as soon as he left the house.
He’s always been a very clingy man. He’s always wanted your touch and attention whenever he’d get home from whatever it was he’d do for work during the day, and he’d always receive it.
But now, he needs to use his head to feel you. He’s always found lying down on your stomach in his free time, so he can feel his child. He is unable to feel kicks with any other parts of his body, so he relies on that.
“‘Hill, I need to go to the bathroom. You might need to move in a second here-” you started, but he looked up at you and began to speak over you.
“Alright, alright… but’cha better come right back, please?”
You nodded before shuffling out of the bed, motioning for him to get up and help you off of the mattress and up on your feet. Once he easily pulls you up, he flops back down as he watches you close the door connected to your room.
He thought hard in those two minutes you were gone. Very hard. To the point he thought he was going to have a breakdown.
He regretted everything. He regretted engaging in the enemy's tricks. He regretted leaving you lonely for so long. And what he regrets most is returning to you like this.
A hunk of metal, who can be destroyed as many times as possible. He’ll always be able to have his body replaced. His head and hair were the only human thing about the man.
He believes you deserve so, so much better. You deserve a man who can live his life to the fullest and actually be able to be there for you during your vulnerable times, and not let grief get in the way. You deserve someone capable of giving you more children in the future, and he believes your baby deserves a dad who can be there for him and be normal.
He might even be worried about judgment. He’s not sure. He feels so emotional yet so dull at the same time.
“Boothill? Is everything alright? You’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past minute,” you said from next to him. How did he not even realize your presence?
“Hah? Yea, I’m fine. How’re ya’ feeling?” He says in his usual tone, trying to swiftly play off his thoughts not even ten seconds ago. “How’s baby doin’ in there?”
You let out a soft giggle before placing your hand on his cold knee. “We’re well. I’m concerned about what just happened with you though. Tell me, what is on your mind?”
The man sighs and shakes his head before resting it back on your belly. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty head off about.” He simply left it at that and nothing more.
When it came time for labor, he was truly nervous. Every attempt he made at trying to make physical contact with you in that time failed, because his hands were either too hard or too cold. He backed off and watched from the sidelines as you brought his little baby girl into the world.
He so desperately wanted to hold her, and you could see the urge in his eyes. She looked so much like him. She had his gorgeous silky black and white hair with your eyes. He thought she was an angel brought from heaven.
Once he finally got to hold her, he was told to keep her swaddled in the blanket she was wrapped in. All was well until she started crying due to the cold of his arms, and the baby was taken off into tests before he could even blink.
722 notes · View notes
melobin · 3 months
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જ⁀➴ casting couch 𐙚 wonbin
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part of the riize as porn plots series.
summary - as a newbie to the porn industry you go through the same hazing process as everyone else. the casting couch. you were just as nervous as you were excited when you found out famed porn star park wonbin would be conducting your interview.
wc - 4.3k
warnings - experienced porn star!wonbin x amateur female porn star!reader, dom wonbin dom! wonbin, finger sucking, hair pulling, nipple play, oral f and m receiving, face fucking, spitting, manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, being recorded.
a/n: sorry for taking so long !!!! i've been sick really sick , don't recommend it. i'm still sick but i've been trying to finish this up for a while!!! i hope you enjoy, not proof read!!
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
“all you have to do for the mean time is sit there and look pretty, once the shoot starts we’ll ask you a question or two and then wonbin will come in and talk to you, sound good?” you nodded at the director, trying to not let the bright lights blind you too much as he spoke “try not to worry about the cameras too much, pretend like we’re not even here”
it felt strange to say the least, you’d never been on such a high budget set before, everything you’d done was alone in the space of your own bedroom or filmed on a shitty low quality camera, something to do with amateur porn was that they loved their dark lighting and low resolution cameras. so this was all so new to you, daunting in a way, but nothing was as daunting as working with park wonbin. 
wonbin was one of the most famous porn stars within your generation, he was pushing 22 and had only been active in the industry for around a year but that meant nothing, once people got him in their sights they never let go. you understood the obsession, wonbin was one of the most gorgeous men you’d even seen. big pretty eyes, longish hair, toned body and that gold, glistening necklace that always adorned his pretty neck, he beat everyone else by at least a mile. he also knew how to fuck, every video he had been in he had easily reduced the female start to tears with his cock. he was filthy, messy. rough. the dream.
one thing about wonbin was that he was incredibly difficult to hire, he may have been a porn start but he was still cautious about where he put himself and who he stuck himself inside of. people don’t approach wonbin, he approaches them, so it was a shock to you when his manager contacted you saying wonbin wanted to work with you personally. he was searching for an official partner to work with, so he wouldn’t have to rotate between women, it baffled you when you found out he wanted to do a casting cough interview because he thought you’d be perfect for the job. you accepted the offer immediately, you would’ve been insane to not take it. even if you didn’t get the job in the end, you would’ve been walking out of here having been fucked by park wonbin, that’s enough of an achievement for you.
“wonbin’s here, all we’re gonna do is ask you a few questions, try and act a bit ditsy just for the show, you ready?”
“yes” the female makeup artist crouched in front of you, gently dabbing a brush against your lips before standing up. 
“you’ll do great” you smiled and thanked her. you weren’t wearing much, just a short dress that hugged the top half of your body, pushing your tits together and flowed out a little bit at the bottom, it barely covered your ass but it didn’t matter, you had nothing on underneath the dress anyway.  
the camera man sat in the chair across from the black couch you were perched on, he held the large camera on his shoulders as the director cued for the shoot to begin. it was quiet as you waited for the camera man to talk he spent a few seconds just recording you playing with you hair and smiling to yourself.
“you ever done this before?” you forced a giggle at the camera man’s question.
“i’m not a virgin silly” you twirled your hair around your finger, playing along to any other question he asked before you heard the door handle turn. lord, he was here. you weren’t necessarily nervous about the shoot, but you were nervous about meeting wonbin.
you gulped when he opened the door, shutting it behind him before turning to look at you, a small smile played on his plump lips as he eyed you. he didn’t say anything at first, he let your eyes flick down his body. he wore a lose white shirt with a low neck line, collarbones on show with his necklace sat gently against his skin. he was insanely gorgeous, there was no doubt that he caused a thirst to erupt inside of anyone that looked at him.
“aren’t you just the prettiest little thing” he reached a hand out to hold your jaw, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. he pulled it down causing you to open your mouth before he placed his thumb flat on your tongue, watching as you closed your lips around the digit and sucked on it, tongue slowly lifting to circle around it. the one little action had wonbin hooked already, he had wanted to fuck you from the moment he first laid his eyes on you. he’d stumbled across a video of you fucking yourself with some toy in your bedroom, the way you whined when you first pushed the toy into your sopping cunt had his cock throbbing  and the sight of your abused cunt after you’d finished playing with yourself had him spilling all over his hand. wonbin had to give it to you, not many people could make him cum from a video alone but you had him with your very first one. that’s when he knew he needed to have you.
wonbin was a natural, he didn’t seem phased one bit that there were cameras filming him, it felt as if he actively ignored them and done whatever he wanted, what he would’ve done even if they weren’t there. you admired it but it also turned you on, he was so shameless, as of he knew you’d accept anything he wanted to do, even if it was going as far to humiliate you in front of the millions of people who would inevitably be watching this video. 
“got the perfect lips for sucking cock, don’t you?” you nodded, humming around his thumb whilst looking up at him, not breaking eye contact as you took his thumb deeper into your mouth. he grabbed your hair with his free hand, pulling your mouth off of his thumb before looking down at you. his hand dropped to the front of your dress, fingers hooking over the neckline before pulling it down, exposing your bare tits to him. he squeezed one in his hand, slowly loosening his grip before pinching your nipple, pulling it away from your body before letting it go.
“why don’t you find out?” wonbin pushed his tongue against his cheek, amused at your question. of course he wanted to find out, he’d be an idiot not to. 
“show me, baby”
you stood up from the sofa, falling to your knees and looking up at him as your fingers went to the zipper of his jeans. wonbin parted his lips as he watched you, eyes trained on yours whilst you pulled his cock out of his jeans. he had nothing on underneath the rough fabric, he was ready for whatever you were willing to give him.
you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, pumping him in your hand, thumb brushing over his slick tip each time you reached his head. you brought your other hand up to push up his shirt, nails lightly digging into the skin of his abs as you lifted yourself to press your tongue against them, saliva wetting his skin whilst you traced his abs with your tongue. you felt wonbin shiver slightly under the touch of your tongue. his eyes stayed on your as your tongue got lower until it left his skin, hand still pumping his cock as you stuck your tongue out and pressed it against the side of it. letting his cock rest against your tongue before you closed your lips around the tip. 
wonbin groaned as he felt your tongue press into the slit of his cock, the taste of his precum filled your mouth as you took him a little deeper before taking yourself off of him. you held him in your hand as you collected as much saliva as you could in your mouth, moving your head to spit on the end of his cock before wrapping your lips around him once more. 
park wonbin was the only man you wanted to impress, so that’s what you done. slowly inching your mouth lower on his cock with each bob of your hea, your eyes still on his, you took him until there was no more of his cock to take, gagging around him slightly but no letting it stop you. wonbin loved the sight beneath him, your nose pressed against his abdomen with each push of your head forward, eyes watering and spit falling from your lips. the sounds you were making were downright filthy, you sounded like you were enjoying sucking his cock and that just made wonbin harder. 
he watched cautiously as you pulled your mouth off of his cock, closing your eyes and letting out a few deep breaths as a string of saliva still connected you to him. wonbin’s hand found your hair, brushing it out of your face before gripping it and pulling it back so you had no choice to look at him, he expected you to be surprised by his actions, maybe moan, what he didn’t expect was for you to smile at him and let out what he could only describe as a sadistic laugh. 
“do you want to use my mouth, binnie?” he almost groaned at your words, deciding to hold himself back and laugh back at you instead. 
“you know exactly what i want, doll” you kept the smile on your face as you watched him wrap other hand around his cock, keeping the other in your hair. he could see the excitement in your eyes even when he guided his cock into your mouth, you leaned closer to him and held the backs of his thighs as he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth. you let him use you, his thrusts gradually increasing in speed as he fucked your mouth, fingers tightening their grip on your hair the longer it went on. eventually you had tears falling from your eyes, but the look you had in them urged him to keep going, you were more than happy to let him use your throat until he was filling it with cum but wonbin had other ideas. 
at some point he had to pull his cock out of the warmth of your mouth, if he didn’t he was going to cum and wonbin didn’t want to do that until he had your sweet cunt wrapped around him instead. he pulled you off of him by your hair, watching as you gasped for breath but still smiled up at him. you still looked so pretty with tears falling from your eyes and your lips wet and swollen. wonbin wanted nothing more than to ravage you and make a mess of you, he wanted to see you wrecked because of him, he wanted everyone to see how pretty you’d look all fucked out because of his cock. 
wonbin signalled you to stand up by pulling on your hair slightly, you followed his instructions, finding his lips on yours as soon as you were up. the kiss wasn’t gentle, his tongue pushed into your mouth only seconds after he placed his lips against yours. his felt soft, it was a drastic comparison to how filthy his tongue felt in your mouth. 
“you’re almost too good at sucking cock” his fingers move your head away from his by pulling at your hair “might need to keep that pretty little mouth all to myself” wonbin pressed his thumbs against your bottom lip before laughing, fingers tightening in your hair as he turned your head to look at the camera, hand dropping from your mouth to squeeze your tits again “everyones gonna be so jealous of me when this video comes out, doll”. you shivered as you felt his lips by your ear, lips parting so you could whine at how he was treating you. 
wonbin’s hand fell from your hair to unzip the back of your dress, watching you as the straps fell down your arms and the dress fell to the floor. his fingers trailed down your bare back before reaching your ass, squeezing it in his hand before pulling it back so he could strike it against you. you moaned at the rough contact of his hand hitting your ass, wonbin just laughed. 
“you’re so fun to play with”
“bet i’ll be even more fun to fuck” you turned to look at wonbin with a smile on your face, he groaned as his eyes flicked down your body. your fingers pushed the material of his shirt up, tracing his abs as you pushed it over his head. 
“i can’t wait to find out” once you pushed his jeans down properly you took a proper look at wonbin, he was utterly delicious from head to toe. every inch of him was devourable. 
you weren’t sure what his next actions would be, you let yourself try to be natural in front of the camera whilst his fingers touched your body. it took you by surprise when he curled them around your waist and pushed you down onto the sofa, your back almost sticking to the material immediately due to the layer of sweat that had accumulated on your skin. you watched wonbin carefully as he dropped to knees in front of you, fingers digging into your inner thighs as he held your legs apart. 
“hold them” he gestured for you to hold your legs apart and replace his hands with your own, as soon as you did he was bringing his fingers to your pussy, using both hands to spread apart your lips so he could get a clear look at you. he let the camera see, he let it watch the way you whimpered when he lightly brushed his finger over your swollen nub and he let it watch as he collected as much saliva as he could in his mouth before spitting onto your cunt. you gasped at the filthiness of his action, taken by surprise but incredibly turned on as you felt his spit drip from your cunt.
wonbin pressed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking a direct line from your hole to your clit, sopping up every drop of spit and your slick he could with his tongue before spitting it back onto your clit. wonbin was filthy, you could already tell that he liked it wet and messy, he liked you wet and messy.
something else wonbin really liked was the way you tasted, the taste of your cunt filled his mouth and took over all of his sense, he was obsessed from the first lick. you melted against his tongue, filled his tastebuds with your sweetness whilst digging your fingers into your own skin. the camera stayed next to you both as he continued to lick at your cunt, moving closer to where wonbin’s lips wrapped around your clit and he harshly sucked on the nub before releasing it and flicking his tongue over it, all whilst continuing to hold the lips of your pussy open with his fingers.
the feeling of wonbin’s tongue flicking over your clit was indescribable, it sent shivers through your body as the pleasure over took you. your nails dug deeper into your thighs as you tried to keep them open for him, eyes watching the way he buried himself into your cunt and lapped up every drop of slick that you had. you wanted nothing more than to push your fingers into his hair and pull on the strands but you knew he wanted you completely open for him, it made it easier for him to abuse your clit with his tongue and leave you a wreck because of it.
you weren’t sure if his goal was to make you cum, considering he didn’t let you make him cum you half expected him to do the same to you but he didn’t. once wonbin got a taste of you, he needed to feel your cum fill his mouth, need the taste of it to completely overtake all of his senses. you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had the chance to taste and he wasn’t going to let that go so easily.
so he pressed his face a little closer to you, positioning himself so he could quickly flick his tongue over your clit, he tortured the swollen nub before his lips closed around it once more. he had no plans to let you relax as he sucked on it and pressed his tongue against it, he loved the way he could see your thighs tremble from the corner of his eyes and how your eyes stayed on him despite the fact you were falling apart. he knew part of you was putting on a show for the camera, trying to keep somewhat of a professional front despite the fact he was making you lose your mind. 
wonbin lifted his head for a moment, your slick covered his lips as he looked at you “you’re gonna cum on my tongue” his words were short and to the point, it took it by surprise when his hands pushed away yours and replaced them on your thighs, stretching you by pressing them further apart and diving back into your cunt. tongue licking up your slit, circling your hole and pressing in so he could coat himself in you again before he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked up to your clit.
wonbin groaned against you when he felt your fingers grab and pull at his hair, the vibration of his groan made your back arch, hips bucking forward to be closer to his face. he let you grind yourself into him as you whined, babbling about being close.
“i’m close god wonbin i’m so close” the camera was a little further back now, it captured the entire sight of wonbin holding you down and licking up every last drop that left you. you were sure before going into this that you weren’t going to be as into it due to the cameras and the people around you two but wonbin took that thought away from you. somehow he made the experience more intense, wonbin was definitely talented with his tongue and he was eagerly to make you cum with it.
your words caused wonbin’s lips to close around your clit, he was determined to push you over the edge with his mouth, he needed it to happen before he could even think about fucking you. he knew he was pushing you closer with the way he sucked on your cunt, he could feel the way you was harshly pulling at the strands of his hair and how you cried out his name. your voice was higher in pitch, moans coming out in frequent and desperate tones. he felt your clit throb under his tongue as your orgasm hit you, he kept his lips wrapped around it just to be sure he gave you the most intense orgasm possible.
you were shaking by the time wonbin pulled away and let go of your legs but he didn’t give you time to calm down before he was standing up and grabbing you, he manhandled you in the position he wanted you in. he had you knelt on the sofa, your forearms resting over the back of it as he pressed on your lower back and made your arch your ass out. you felt the tip of his cock press against your overstimulated clit, your thighs shook at the sudden contact.
wonbin looked down at his cock, lips parting to let a string of spit fall onto it. he pumped his spit over his cock whilst dragging the head down to your clenching hole, wonbin groaned at the feeling of your wetness seeping onto his cock, he couldn’t wait to fuck you. he watched carefully as he pressed the tip of his cock inside of you, the camera being close to where the two of you were connected in order to get the perfect shot.
the stretch you felt as he pushed inside of you made your head spin, the groan he let out only caused you to tighten more around him, wonbin was sure that if you squeezed around him anymore he wouldn’t be able to move “you’re so fucking tight around me”. wonbin’s own voice sounded shaky as he spoke to you, a deep husk surrounding his tone as he pressed the rest of his cock inside of you “starting to think no one’s fucking you right, sweet girl”. 
he gave you a few moments to catch your breath but it wasn’t enough, the moment he pulled out of you and pushed back in he was taking your breath away. whilst his movements weren’t exactly rough to start off with, the force behind his thrusts had your thighs shaking, the intensity of your previous orgasm staying with you as he dragged his cock along your walls. 
wonbin had his hands on each cheek of your ass, his nails dug into the skin of them as he pulled them apart to be able to watch himself slide into you, each time his cock left you it came out wetter than before. he was obsessed. he was sure to let the camera see it too, letting it focus on the way his cock stretched your open and wedged itself as deep as it could go inside of you. 
his hands moved, he leaned forward to wrap his hand around your neck whilst his other hand held your jaw, his thrusts speeding up and gaining more power behind them. with how he was holding your jaw you couldn’t close your mouth, moans of his name fell from you because of it, curses following behind. 
“gonna let them see you, pretty girl?” wonbin’s voice hit your ear as he pressed his lips against your neck, the camera found its way in front of you, recording the way his fingers dug into your skin and how you cried out his name “everyone gonna be so jealous of me” his voice was barely a whisper in your ear, as if he didn’t want the camera to pick up on the words he was whispering to you “need everyone to see how well i fuck your perfect little pussy”. 
you could only whine as he spoke to you, his words falling into a groan as you tightened your grip around him and began fucking yourself back against his cock. the camera man walked around the two of you, the camera being focused on the scene of wonbin fucking into you harshly from behind whilst you met his thrusts. you were a wreck as his fingers tightened their grip on your throat, your moans turning broken and your fingers digging a little deeper into the back of the sofa.
“feel so good, binnie” you choked out, wonbin felt as if he was at least four thrusts away from spilling his cum inside of you so he pulled out. his hands left your skin as he stepped backwards before they found you again, fingers digging into your hips as he turned you around, your back was propped up by the arm of the sofa as he knelt against the sofa and spread your legs apart. 
wonbin groaned as he pushed his cock back into you, he kept your legs spread as he began fucking you again. he watched the way your cunt took his cock eagerly, he found himself engrossed in the way your cunt spoke to him with each harsh thrust he made forward, how it let out wet cries and squeezed around him. it was just as pornographic as your moans were, wonbin thought you were perfect. 
“gonna fill you up so well” he was close and he was sure to let you know, he needed to hear you begging him to fill you up with him cum and have it leak out of you.
“please” was all you could whine out, wonbin repositioned your legs, letting one hook over his shoulder whilst the other fell to the floor, he moved his body to cage in yours as he fucked you, hide hands grabbed yours and pinned them down against the arm of the sofa either side of your head. you tried to focus on his face as his hair fell in front of his eyes but you found yourself watching his necklace that hovered over your face, barely grazing the skin of your lips with each sharp thrust. the star that hung off of the chain glistened under the harsh lights of the room, you found yourself mesmerised by it, knowing you’d be lying in bed later that night picturing the way it swung over your face. 
“gonna make me cum so hard, doll” wonbin had a whine in the tone of his voice as you squeezed around him, one of his hands left yours so he could press it against your clit, he used his other hand to run his fingers through his hair as he leaned back on his knees, hair falling back into his eyes as he fucked into you. he was sweaty, his body glistened under your gaze, as did his face. you found it hard to believe you were being fucked by a man who looked that good and wanted to make you cum again “cum around my cock, sweet girl”. 
you were more than happy to listen to his words, your cunt clenching harder around his cock as he drove you to the brink of your orgasm. your moans got louder, your legs shook and your fingers reached out for something, anything to grip onto as your orgasm washed over you. 
then it was wonbin’s turn to cum, his thrusts grew more frantic as his fingers dug into your thighs once more. he was determined to cum, determined to fuck you full of his cum and have everyone watch him claim you as his. and that’s exactly what he done, the after maths of your orgasm had you clenching tightly around him, squeezing his cock for everything he has as he came inside of you, thrusts slowly until he was barely dragging his cock against your walls. wonbin came with a broken moan of a short fuck, he made sure he didn’t pull out of you until every drop was inside of you. 
wonbin’s final show for the camera was by slowly pulling his cock out if you, he was sure to watch the way his cum slowly built up at your entrance and seeped out of you, letting the camera catch every moment of it. 
“i think you’ll be perfect for the job”.
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mooshywrites · 2 months
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What he’d give you on your Wedding Day
Masterlist
Art commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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Halsin ~
~ Something Old ~
~ Both you and Halsin had agreed on a small and intimate wedding
~ The Grove was almost unrecognizable by the time you had finished decorating, flowers and simple draped lace transforming it into any Druid’s dream
~ Halsin, however,was practically crawling out of his skin at the idea of not seeing you the whole morning before the ceremony
~ After much pleading and a masterful application of puppy dog eyes, you finally agreed to meet before the ceremony to exchange a gift
~ You had chosen a new whittling knife, specially commissioning it out of the rarest metal you could afford
~ When the two of you finally met that morning, your hair was half done and clothes were disheveled from the preparation
~ Even so, you couldn’t have been more enchanting to Halsin, the Druid giving you a warm smile
~ He handed you your gift, something weighty wrapped carefully in a lacy cloth
~ The sound of Halsin’s reaction to your own gift slowly faded from the world as you slipped open his present
~ Inside was a small wooden carving, it seemed to be a butchered attempt at a stylized heart
~ Halsin blushed and toyed with his new knife shyly, explaining that your gift was the very first carving he had ever whittled
~ “I know it may be… misshapen… but I knew when I made it, that someday I’d give both it and my real heart to the person I would love forever”
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Astarion -
~ Something New ~
~ Your wedding to Astarion was one of the most extravagant parties you had ever prepared
~ Luckily, Astarion lent quite the hand through the entire process
~ In fact, all you really had to prepare was the invitation list. Astarion handled practically everything else
~ You were worried the preparations would stress him, but he seemed to love the details in it
~ He wanted every speck to be perfect, every hair in place for when he showed off his love in front of the world
~ The day of the wedding, you watched as he rushed around the venue, making sure everything was in place to run smoothly
~ When you went off to your dressing room to prepare, you were surprised to see him open the door soon after
~ The pale elf cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly, holding out a thin paper box
~ Astarion clarified it wasn’t anything too special, just something he had worked on to complete your wedding attire
~ When you opened the box, warmth and emotion spread through your chest
~ Inside, was a carefully folded veil, hand stitched with crawling flowers and lace
~ “I hope you will wear it, darling, I couldn’t stand the thought of you wearing anything that wasn’t as beautiful as you”
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Gale -
~ Something Borrowed ~
~ Your wedding to Gale was comfortingly cozy
~ His mother had a big hand in putting everything together, doting over you the entire time
~ Tara even pitched in, acting as a working director, delegating out what she thought was the most important tasks
~ Gale spent most of his time trying to keep you calm, a warm whisper reminding you that everything would be perfect on your special day
~ The night before, you were a nervous wreck, realizing the necklace you had planned to wear for the event had a broken clasp
~ Both you and Gale tried to mend it, but it was simply beyond repair
~ After holding you through a few exhausted tears, Gale got up to rummage through a chest in the corner
~ He sat back next to you, holding out a small wrapped box
~ He explained it was something from his mother he was going to give you the next morning, a ‘something borrowed’ to an old poem he knew
~ But with your necklace dilemma, he figured now was a good a time as any
~ You carefully unwrapped the package, gasping when you saw the dainty glittering neckpiece, silver and gemstones winding their way into a delicate star
~ “Mother saved it saying she wished on a falling star that I’d find love like she had. She must have wished on the most brilliant star in the sky for the heavens to send me you”
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Wyll -
~ Something Blue ~
~ It seemed like the entire city of Baldur’s Gate was involved in the planning for your wedding to Wyll
~ The guest list started small, mostly just family and close friends
~ But once more people found out that the Grand Duke was getting hitched, the party quickly expanded
~ You were excited for the evening, knowing the whole of the city would be dancing and drinking, celebrating your love and union
~ Wyll, however, was not so excited at the thought of going an entire day without seeing you
~ You weren’t superstitious, but you liked holding on to the few traditions of a wedding day, including not seeing each other until the vows
~ From what you had heard all morning, apparently Wyll’s groomsman had to keep a close eye on The Blade
~ He had been trying to sneak off at every opportunity, wanting to get at least a glimpse of you
~ Right now, in your little dressing room, all was quiet and calm
~ You were adding the finishing touches to your appearance when the door suddenly swung open, Wyll standing in the doorway breathless
~ He gave you a giant smile, holding out a bouquet of bright blue flowers
~ You couldn’t help but burst out into a fit of giggles at his disheveled appearing, it seemed he’d fought an army just to get to you
~ “Surely I’m allowed to see you if I’m bringing you a gift. We may have forever, but I couldn’t go another second without seeing you”
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
Text
Begin again
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel grants you your wish of being left alone for a while. The second the times up though, he starts his plan to win you back.
A/n this is the last part to Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t story. I would like to remind you that my requests are open (please try to send in fluffy or smut requests. I need to chill out on angsty stories for a while 😂😂😂)
Warning: fluff
Part One Part Two Bonus Scene
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Clinging onto the hope you gave him the night of the dinner party, Azriel gave you the space you asked for and settled with giving you three weeks. He was still a wreck during those three weeks, but he spent that time planning the perfect way to win you back. When the three weeks were up, he set his plan into motion.
It started out small. He was leaving you roses by your front door with a note that included a happy memory you shared. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memories he wrote down, from the first day you met to the first book he ever bought you just because he saw it and thought you might enjoy it.
You couldn’t believe he remembered the tiny moments you shared together and started feeling bad that you had been ignoring him for two years. You knew that any other male would have moved on if they were in Azriel’s position. Yet he stayed loyal to you, and while he was over the top while he begged for forgiveness he never once stopped fighting for you or your forgiveness.
He then resorted to the one thing he told Cassian he would never do, writing poems for you. Granted, they weren’t that great when he started writing them, but by the sixth week, he had you swooning by the time you finished reading the poem.
The best part was that he actually got help from some of your students. Every day, he would approach one of them and ask if they could hand you the poem and give you a beautiful set of either earrings or a necklace. The students would be excited that the spymaster of the night court asked them for a favor and were more than happy to deliver the poem, along with a few jewelry pieces.
Azriel would watch from a distance as you read the poem and held the piece of jewelry against your chest.
The next thing Azriel did was stop by the old dance studio you attended and properly apologize to your old instructor. He apologized for his actions and explained what drove him to do what he did.
Azriel was surprised when your old instructor accepted his apology and told him he would let you know that Azriel apologized to him. Of course, Azriel told him he didn’t have to do that, that he did it because it was the right thing to do. “The apology might be two years late, but at least you did it. Most males would never apologize in the first place, let alone an Illyrian male.”
Even though Azriel told him he didn’t have to, your old instructor stopped by your studio and informed you that Azriel apologized to him: “He seemed so remorseful for his actions. Do you ever plan on forgiving him?”
“I already have,” you confessed and started playing with the necklace Azriel had gifted you a few weeks back: “The thing is, I'm scared that he is going to resent me again and take his anger out my studio because I built a career out of something I’m passionate about. I love teaching dance too much just to go back to being the spymaster's mate.”
“Why can’t you be both?” your instructor pointed out: “Be the spymaster's mate AND an amazing dancing teacher.”
You went home that night replaying the conversation and wondered if your old instructor was right.
His big move came six months later. He had gotten wind that you were now providing private lessons for fae’s who were too shy to learn around other people. They would have to pay in order to receive those private lessons, but they were reasonably priced.
You thought others wouldn’t want to pay for private lessons after attending your other classes for free. You were surprised when all of your openings for private lessons were booked for the foreseeable future.
You were getting ready to teach someone late at night when you spotted Azriel walking through the front door: “Azriel! What are you doing here? I have a private lesson in five minutes.”
“I’m the one who requested the private lesson,” Azriel confessed: “Teach me everything you know about the thing you love the most.”
A smile formed on your face at Azriel’s request, and you were more than happy to oblige. You started teaching him the basics and were surprised at how fast he learned to dance. “Look at you,” you beamed at Azriel: “You’ll be a better dancer than me in no time.”
“Not possible,” Azriel stared lovingly at you.
By the end of the lesson, Azriel had his arms around your body, holding you close to him. He was enjoying having you in his arms after being denied it for years. “I’ve missed you so much, my love,” Azriel spoke into your hair before getting ahold of your chin and making you look into his eyes: “I am nothing without you.”
Azriel found himself staring at your lips and was tempted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress he had accomplished thus far.
To his surprise, you were the one that pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t complain. As a matter of fact, he took control of the kiss immediately and had you pinned against the mirrored wall. 
You let out a soft moan at Azriel’s action and found yourself pressing yourself against his body, desperate for his touch. “I really am sorry for all the pain I have caused you these past couple of years,” Azriel whispered as he cradled your neck: “I never realized how much I needed you in my life until you left me. I was such a fool for saying such hurtful things to you.”
A small smile appeared on your face at Azriel’s apology: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. Thank you for apologizing and for all the flowers and poems you’ve sent me these past few months.”
“Can you come home now? Our house is not a home without you in it” Azriel begged, his scarred hands were now tangled in your hair.
“Yes, I will come home,” you replied before a mischievous smile appeared on your face: “But what do you say we spend the night here, just for tonight?” Azriel was going to question why you would want to sleep in your studio when you tapped on the mirror behind you. “You have always said it would be nice to fuck in front of a mirror. Well, we have one right here.”
“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Azriel groaned before leaning in and capturing your lips again.
A/n. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus scene with the reader, Azriel, and that mirror.
@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321 @pussyistasty-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @anuttellaa @pussyistasty-blog @fightmedraco @aunicornmademedoit @esposadomd @thelov3lybookworm @harrystylesfan2686 @sarawritestories @fxckmiup @sleepylunarwolf @mochibabycakes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @stargirl1714 @tenshis-cake @tele86 @63angel @sagskylar01 @i-am-infinite @kristin813 @one-big-fangirl
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anniemika · 12 days
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Eren Jaeger x Female Reader
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: explicit sex, cunnilingus, cursing
…..
"Mommy! Daddy’s here!” The sound of tiny footsteps echoed through the apartment, causing your maternal instincts to kick in. Worried that your daughter might trip on the stairs, you hurriedly made your way to the hallway. To your surprise, you found her standing by the door, her little backpack neatly packed, and her favorite plush toy clutched tightly under her arm.
"Sweetheart, what have I told you about running down the stairs?" you asked, trying to hide your smile at how adorable she looked.
"I know... sorry," she replied, giving you the most irresistible puppy eyes, swaying on her feet as if she knew exactly how to melt your heart. Just like someone else you knew.
"Mr. Poodles is coming with you, huh?" you said, kneeling down to help her tie her shoes properly.
"He can't wait to see Daddy, just like me," she grinned, hugging her stuffed animal. "Wish you were coming too."
For a moment, you froze. "This is your time with Daddy, baby. You've spent the whole day with me."
"But don't you want to have fun with me and Daddy too?" she asked, her innocent eyes searching for an answer. Right as she finished her question, the person of your discussion knocked on the apartment door.
"Daddy!" Your daughter practically pushed you out of the way as soon as you opened it, throwing herself into her father's arms.
"Wow! You're getting bigger every day!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly. "How's my baby girl?"
"I can't wait to go to the ice rink!" she squealed with excitement.
"Oh, me too, baby. Do you have your skates ready?"
"Umm, I think they're upstairs."
"Then go fetch 'em!" releasing her from his embrace, you both watched as she sprinted towards the stairs.
“Remember what I said!” you said after her, but she was too eager to hear your reminder.
You turned your attention back to her father, who was still smiling goofily, his eyes fixed on the direction your daughter had gone.
"She's been talking about this all day," you said to him, your lips curving into a smile.
Eren turned to face you, his gaze lingering a bit too long on your features before he spoke. "Yeah, she's been wanting to go for some time now."
"Just keep an eye on her, please. You know how hyperactive she can get, just like-"
"Me?" Eren tried to hide his smile, but it was evident, causing you to roll your eyes.
"Yes, just like you," you replied, a hint of affection in your voice.
You stare at each other for a few moments, before Eren grabs his backpack and begins to rummage through it. “I, uh.. got you something.”
You adjoin your eyebrows in confusion, but then he clarifies. “For your birthday.”
“Eren, you shouldn’t ha-“
“I wanted to.” He declares with a tone that suggests there’s no point in fighting him about it. After he gets a tiny present box out of his backpack, he moves closer, handing it to you.
"Thanks." You smile timidly, trying to escape his gaze. After nervously opening the present, your eyes grow wide when you see it. “Oh my god, Eren..”
You put your hand against your mouth in awe of the golden necklace positioned in the little box. It’s a lock necklace in the shape of a heart, with your daughter’s picture right at the center of it.
“Eren, this is... it’s beautiful.” Your eyes are still large as you inspect the jewelry, “thank you, thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Eren casts a warm smile your way. You exchange glances with him, something you can’t quite decipher shining in his jewel eyes. “I was thinking-“
“I’m ready!” Your little bundle of joy appears in front of you, showcasing her pink glittery skates in her hand.
“Yeah?” Eren kneels next to her, giving a kiss on her puffy cheek. He looks at her, then at you, and then leans closer to your daughter’s ear, “Say, sweetheart.. don’t you think mommy should come with us, too?”
She doesn’t even waste a second, ��Yes! Mommy, please come with us!”
You shake your head, “I can’t, sweetheart, I have work to do.”
“But it’s Saturday! Saturday is for fun!” Your daughter purses her upper lip, giving you the cutest little pout you’ve ever seen.
“She does have a point.” Eren nods his head. “Come on. I’ll be making pasta later.” He tilts his head the same way he does every time he tries to persuade you about something. And you hate that you’re debating it. It’s been four months since the last time you allowed yourself to spend time with Eren, and it was the same time you decided that it’d be best to co-parent instead of trying to fix your complicated relationship. He’d agreed to it, although it took him some time to understand what that actually meant. No more touching, kissing, spending nights together. It was hard for him, but with time, it seemed like he accepted it. Your kid was the most important thing for the both of you.
But even so, you could feel that there was still something. He was the father of your kid, and it didn’t help how amazing he was with her. Every time you saw them together, your heart would skip a beat. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad for your little girl. He did everything for her, helped her with school, taught her how to ride a bike, spent an enormous amount of time just playing with her and paying her attention. You were so grateful for that.
And you knew he still had a thing for you. He hadn’t gotten a new girlfriend even though women ogled him left and right, and when he would come to pick your kid up, he’d always talk to you, not being so smooth in trying to find out if you were dating someone or not.
Eren can see you’re still debating it, so he raises his arm in the air, “Everyone who wants mama to come, raise your hand.”
Your daughter follows suit, one tiny hand in the air, the other one holding onto Mr. Poodles’s hand. And you want to cry because this is the cutest image in the entire world.
“See, three against one.” Eren smirks your way, and of course, your cheeky daughter mimics it. That’s when you know, you’ve lost.
“Fine.” They both erupt into cheers, giving each other high fives. “Only for a little while, though.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
…..
The ice rink wasn’t as full as you’d expected for a Saturday, which was a welcome surprise. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went, but it was probably with Eren. He was the one that taught you, and then taught your little girl as well. It always amazed you how even though he was pretty impatient as a person, he was always so patient when it came to her... and to you, too. You really liked that about him.
You watched your daughter grab onto her father’s hand as they slid their skates across the rink, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart get full.
“Mommy! Come on!” She shouts to you, waving her little hand as Eren turns to look at you, a soft smile gracing his lips.
And if you really think about it, this is all you’ve ever wanted.
…..
“I should go.” You say as you gather your skates in one hand, watching as Eren helps your daughter undo hers. You’d been skating for the past two hours, and it was beginning to get cold, so after having spent the best time laughing and doing circles around the rink, with your bundle of joy holding you and Eren by your hands, you’d decided to call it a day.
“Don’t,” Eren basically jumps from the ground, his reaction surprising all three of you. Trying not to cringe from his sudden actions, he moves a bit closer, until you can faintly smell his cologne. “Please stay.”
You’d be lying if you said you expected the vulnerable tone those words came out with. He locked his gaze with yours, the pleading look in his eyes striking something deep inside your chest.
You still don’t say anything, so Eren tries again, “We’ll drive you afterwards. Right, sweetheart?” He turns to his daughter, who’s already giving you her irresistibly green puppy eyes.
“Please, mama. Mr. Poodles is gonna be sad if you leave.” She’s bringing the plush toy to her chest, her pointy chin resting on the animal’s head. They’re both really working you today.
You move your stare back to Eren’s, who looks like a little boy waiting for his parents to allow him something he really wants. You ignore the nestled feeling inside your chest, the one that seems to know why he’s acting this way. Finally, you sigh, tilting your head to catch your daughter’s expression again, “Well, I guess I can’t let Mr. Poodles be sad, now can I?”
…..
You hadn’t been to Eren’s new place ever since he left your shared apartment. You knew where it was because you’d often pick your daughter up from there, but you never felt comfortable enough to go in. Deep inside, you knew why you never wanted to. Not that you’d admit it to yourself or anyone else, but truth was, you were scared. Scared of accidentally bumping into a hook up, even though you knew he’d never allow that while your kid was there. But still, you were always on edge. You were afraid of him living the bachelor life now that you officially weren’t together, because as much as you wanted him to be happy, seeing your daughter’s father with another woman was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be ready for.
But now, as you make your first step inside, you’re instantly washed with a sense of relief. The place isn’t big nor small, there’s just the right amount of space for a single dad whose kid comes over a couple of times a week. It’s tidy, there is no cereal on the table or alcohol bottles scattered around the shelves. There are a few plants positioned next to the window, their leaves as green as their owner’s eyes. You can even see the little cherry tomato tree you gave him as a gift after your third date—you’d made cherry tomato pasta that he absolutely loved, begging you for the recipe afterwards. Even though it was pretty simple, his reaction made you so happy, you gifted him the tree the next time you guys saw each other. You’d told him that whenever he wanted, you could make it for him with homemade tomatoes.
“Mommy, look what daddy and I drew!” Your daughter breaks your train of memories when she sprints towards the coffee table in the living room, grabbing what you suspect is the drawing, “Look! It’s us!”
She proudly presents the painting to you, smiling from ear to ear. You crouch down next to her, examining what you presume is all three of you holding each other by the hand, with wide smiles drawn on your faces. You can’t help but grin.
“Oh wow, you’re quite the artist, aren’t you?”
“Daddy helped!” She goes to grab her father by the hand, and you exchange glances with his handsome face, emerald eyes shooting arrows right through your heart.
“I bet he did.” You look down at the picture again, memorizing every little detail. How your hair is in your usual hairstyle, how Eren’s shirt is in his favorite green, how your daughter has a huge grin on her face, the same one she has on right now in front of you. And even when just looking at this drawing is enough to fill your heart with joy, you know that it’s not really similar to your real life. Because you and Eren.. you’re separated. You don’t take your kid for walks in the park together. You don’t go to the movies as a family. You don’t fall asleep in his arms after you’ve read your kid a bedtime story. The only time in the near past that you felt this way was today.. at the ice rink. It amazed you how life had the unimaginable gift of making you forget all the bad with just a little bit of good.
Eren notices the sudden sullen look on your face, so he quickly changes the subject, “All right girls, go sit yourselves down. I’m going to start dinner.”
…..
The sweet aroma of sizzling garlic fills the air of the kitchen. You’re seated opposite your little girl, who is now drawing a picture of a cat she’d seen outside the ice rink. It was her favourite animal, something she doesn’t keep away from you or Eren, giving not so subtle hints of what she would describe as the perfect birthday present.
“It smells really good.”
You say, trying to keep the conversation light and neutral. You're aware of the tension that underlies these simple domestic moments, but you're also conscious of the need to maintain a sense of normalcy for your daughter's sake.
Eren glances over his shoulder, offering you a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks. I'm making that cherry tomato pasta. Remember, the one you taught me?"
You nod, the memory bittersweet. "Yeah, I remember."
Your daughter, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chatters excitedly about the orange cat she’s drawing, her words filling the space with innocent energy. You listen to her, responding with the appropriate nods and laughs, but part of your attention remains on Eren. The ease with which he handles the kitchen utensils and the familiar way he moves around the space remind you of the times you cooked together, a pang of nostalgia hitting you as you watch.
The pasta is served, with Eren sitting down beside you. You take a bite, the flavors just as you remember, and you can't help but compliment Eren on his cooking. "You've got this down to a T," you say, a genuine smile touching your lips.
Eren looks pleased with the praise. "I had a good teacher," he replies, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he turns his attention back to your daughter, who is happily twirling pasta onto her fork.
“Do you like it, little miss?” He asks her, removing some stray hairs from her face so they don’t end up in her meal. The sight makes your heart swell.
“Best pasta ever!” She gives him a grin and Eren chuckles, pinching her on the nose.
“You’re the cutest kid ever.”
“Have to agree with that statement.” You chime in, smiling at them both.
“It’s no surprise. You made her.” 
Eren's comment catches you off guard, a compliment wrapped in a simple truth, and it brings a flush to your cheeks.
You give a soft laugh, brushing off the sentiment with a playful roll of your eyes, but inside, your heart feels a gentle tug. "Well, I had some help," you reply, acknowledging the role he's played not just in her creation, but in the person she's becoming.
Eren nods his head, attempting to conceal his smile, but it was futile. The warmth of the moment seems to hang in the air and the rest of the meal passes with ease, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful banter. It's a reminder of the chemistry that once brought you together, still present in these small interactions. As you watch Eren interact with your daughter, his love for her evident in every gesture and word, you once again prove to yourself that choosing him as the father of your child was the right choice. Despite the separation, he remains a devoted father in every aspect, and that's something you can't help but respect.
After dinner, as Eren clears the table and insists on handling the dishes, you take the opportunity to spend some quiet time with your daughter, helping her with a puzzle she shows you, one that she’d started with her dad a week ago.
“You’re not ready for what I’m about to show you.” Eren’s voice carries a playful tone as he approaches, drying his hands on a dish towel. 
“What is it?” You turn to him, trying to ignore the way he’s rolled up his sleeves, his big, veiny hands on display.
“Just wait here.” He says with a grin, disappearing for a moment into another room. When he returns, he’s holding something behind his back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. You exchange a curious look with your daughter, who shrugs with an amused smile. Then with a flourish, Eren presents what looks like an album, one you instantly recognise when you read the title emblazoned across the cover. It's a photo album you both started when your daughter was born, filled with snapshots of her life, from her very first moments in this world.
You take it in your hands as if you’re holding the most precious thing in your life — because in a way, you are. The album is more than just a collection of photographs; it's a tangible chronicle of your daughter's journey, a narrative woven together by the love and care of her parents. You run your fingers over the title, the letters familiar and filled with a history that only you and Eren understand. 
“I haven’t seen this in forever.” You say, with a sort of awe in your voice as you flip the first page. There she was, your daughter, in her very first photograph, a tiny bundle swaddled in a hospital blanket. 
“Found it at my mom’s house.” Eren says as he settles on the living room couch beside you. You lean into the comfort of the cushions, the album resting on your lap, and as you turn the pages, you're enveloped by the warmth of the memories it holds.
Each photograph tells a story, and you're struck by the vividness of those early days, the emotions as fresh as if they were just yesterday. The sleep-deprived smiles, the first time your daughter grasped your finger, the countless expressions of wonder as she discovered the world around her—all are captured in these pages.
"It's amazing you found this," you say, looking over at Eren with gratitude. "I didn't even realize how much I missed it until now."
Eren nods, his gaze lingering on the images. "Yeah, I stumbled upon it while helping Mom with some cleaning. I figured we should have it here, where we can all look at it whenever we want."
The two of you continue to reminisce, sharing stories and laughter as your daughter, now more interested in the album than her puzzle, climbs onto the couch to join you. She points to a photo of herself as a toddler, her face painted with an expression of pure joy, and asks about the day it was taken.
"That was your second birthday," Eren explains, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "You had that little cake with the cartoon characters on it. You were so excited you barely let us cut it."
“Can I have the same one on my next birthday?” She asks with that childlike innocence that makes each question so endearing. 
"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, matching her enthusiasm. "We'll find a cake that makes you just as happy as that one did. Maybe we can even add some new decorations to make it extra special for this year."
Eren nods in agreement, always ready to make her birthday wishes come true. "We'll make it a great birthday," he assures her. "Maybe we can even look at some pictures together and pick out what you like best for the cake design."
Your daughter claps her hands excitedly, the prospect of planning her cake adding to the anticipation of her birthday, no matter that it was 5 months ahead. "Yay! I want it to be a surprise, though. I want to see it and be like, 'Wow!'"
You both laugh, charmed by her excitement and her desire for a surprise. "It'll be our little project," Eren tells her. "A big, happy birthday surprise."
The evening continues with a warm, gentle rhythm as you turn more pages of the album. Each photograph sparks a new conversation, a new story, or a fond recollection. And as the night progressed and the album came to an end, your daughter ended up falling asleep on your shoulder. 
Eren quietly gathers her in his arms and carries her to her bedroom, her head resting against his shoulder as he walks. You follow, watching the tender scene. The house was quiet, save for the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing and the faint creak of the floorboards underfoot.
Once in her room, Eren gently lays her down in her bed, taking care not to wake her. He pulls the covers up to her chin and tucks them around her snugly, ensuring she is comfortable and warm. You stay in the doorway, your heart full, observing this nightly ritual that never seems to lose its significance.
With the stealth and coordination of seasoned parents, you both retreat from the room, Eren turning off the light and closing the door just enough to leave a comforting sliver of light from the hallway. The two of you return to the living room, the silence a stark contrast to the laughter and storytelling that had filled it just a short while ago.
“It's been a good day," Eren says softly, his voice reflecting the peaceful atmosphere.
"Yeah, it really has," you agree, leaning against his kitchen counter.
Eren looks down at his feet, like he’s trying to find the proper words. "I wanted.. to say thank you. For tonight, for this," he gestures to the space around you, encompassing the warmth of the evening spent together, "for everything."
You offer him a soft smile, "I'm glad we did this," you reply. "It's important, for her."
And for us.
“She was really happy, wasn’t she?”
You nod, trying not to look him in the eyes. You felt.. vulnerable. You and him, alone, in this close proximity.. it hasn’t happened in a long time. And with the way your heart is beating, you know what you should do next, no matter if it is the last thing you want to do.
“I should get going. It’s getting late.” You tell him quietly, afraid of not waking your daughter up. 
“Wait,” he grabs your hand just before you begin to walk away. Eren's grip is gentle but firm, a silent plea for just a moment longer. You pause, turning back to face him and those beautiful green eyes of his. 
“Y/n, I…” he hesitates, searching for the right words, his eyes locked with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 
You feel a flutter in your chest, his words stirring emotions you've tried to keep at bay. Your mouth opens slightly, but words don’t find you.
His face contorts into a melancholic smile, “I barely functioned without you.”
The confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. You can see the sincerity in Eren's eyes, the raw honesty that he's allowing you to see. It's disarming, and for a moment, you're transported back to a time when the distance between you didn't exist.
You swallow hard, the flutter in your chest growing into a storm of emotions that you struggle to contain. Nonetheless, you try to keep the conversation light, letting out a low laugh.
“Seems like you’ve been doing fine.”
But Eren doesn’t buy that. He takes a few steps closer to you until you can smell his cologne.
“Yeah, well, I had to. Doesn’t mean you haven’t been on my mind the whole time.”
Eren's proximity and his familiar scent make your heart race, and the walls you've built to compartmentalize your feelings feel as though they're beginning to crumble. You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. The closeness is overwhelming, and you're reminded of the intimacy you once shared. It's a dangerous territory, and part of you wants to step back, to reestablish the boundaries that have kept you both grounded in your new reality.
“Eren, we’ve been through this-“
“I can’t be with anyone else.” He spits out, and you’re left speechless. His declaration cuts through the air, leaving a silence that feels both heavy and electric.
“And I’ve tried- fuck, I’ve really tried, but it doesn’t work. You’re my girl.”
Your stomach is doing somersaults. The intensity of Eren's confession sends your emotions into overdrive, and for a moment, you're caught in the eye of a storm that's been quietly brewing. His words, raw and unfiltered, resonate with a part of you that you've tried to keep hidden away, a part that still responds to him with a familiar pull.
“Eren, this isn’t right- things are fine now, for the first time in a long time. We’ve worked too hard for this, for where we are now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His eyes convey his apology, but you can see he’s been keeping this inside for way too long. “But I really don’t think I can ever imagine my life without you.”
“You won’t have to, we have a child-“
“Yes, I know.” It comes out a bit harsh, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. “But just the thought that you might end up with someone else.. it’s like a fucking tumor inside my brain.”
The rawness in Eren's voice strikes a chord within you, and you can't help but empathize with the pain he's expressing. It's clear that his feelings are genuine and that he's been wrestling with them for some time. Yet, despite the empathy you feel, you know that the health of your family dynamic is at stake.
“Eren.” You say softly but firmly, “We have a little kid together. I don’t want to screw her up like my parents did me. I want her to be happy.”
“Don’t you think she will be, though? All she does is ask me when I’m moving back. We’ve never fought in front of her. You know I’d never let that happen.”
“Yes, but we did fight a lot last time. I don’t want to live like that, like my-“
“Hey, we are not your parents, okay?” He cradles your face in his hands, and that’s when you realise there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “Stop thinking about them and just think about us.” 
You stay like that, looking up at him, his touch gentle and comforting.
“I’m so sorry about last time, believe me. I’ve learned from my mistakes. And I know it’s hard for you, but I’ll show you. All I want is for you and our baby to be happy.”
The warmth of Eren's hands on your face and the sincerity in his eyes make it hard to maintain the walls you've built to protect yourself. 
“I love you to death, y’know that, right?”
And then, it’s all over.
“Eren..“, you hiccup, crumbling into his arms, sobbing quietly as the emotional dam breaks. The stress of holding back, of trying to be strong and keep everything together, is suddenly too much. Eren's arms wrap around you, a sturdy presence in the midst of your vulnerability.
"I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he holds you close. "I'm here. I've got you."
The comfort of his embrace allows you to let go, if only for a moment, of the fears and doubts that have been haunting you. In the safety of his arms, you allow yourself to feel the full extent of your emotions—the love, the hurt, the hope, and the uncertainty.
“There’s never going to be anyone else for me. Ever.” He whispers, “I’m willing to do the work. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
You feel the steady beat of his heart against your ear, a rhythm that once felt as familiar as your own. He loves you. He truly does, and you know that, you’ve always known. After a moment, he brings you back by the shoulders so he can look at your face.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Stop it.”
You try to hide yourself in your hands, but he catches them softly.
“It’s true. No one else compares, baby.” He brings his hands to your hips, and your heart skips a beat. “No one.” 
“Eren..”, you say his name softly, eyes glued to his pretty lips.
“Yeah?” He reciprocates your tone, and you’re sure he’s caught on the change of atmosphere. Of course he has, he’s the one who started it.
“I’ve missed you, too.” You encircle your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.
“Shit, not as much as me.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, “It was like a part of me was gone. The only time I felt happy was when I was with our baby girl.. and when I’d see you.”
“I.. I didn’t know what to do. I thought this was the best decision, but.. I was so sad, Eren.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He rubs soothing circles around your hips, “If I wasn’t such an idiot, this wouldn’t have happened.” 
You stay like that for a while before he catches your chin between his fingers, making your eyes meet. “Do you love me still?”
Even if you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“.. Yes.”
You’d never seen him smile like that. It was the purest, most joyful smile you’ve ever seen on a person. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling your face closer until your lips meet, the kiss soft but passionate, one that sends butterflies across your whole being, one that you’ve dreamed about for the past 5 months. 
When the kiss ends, his gaze rests on your face, “Then..”, he removes a strand of hair behind your ear, “if you still trust me, give us another chance, Y/n.”
You’re embarrassed by how aroused you feel in this moment, with his body pressed against yours, faces inches away. 
“Kiss me again.” You whisper before pulling him to you again, this time taking the lead, your hands leading his to your lower back, signaling for him to pick you up. Eren doesn’t need an explanation with words, he knows exactly what you want. And even though he wants it more than anything in the world right now, he still knows that he needs to be cautious, to ensure that this is what you truly want and not just a momentary lapse driven by old feelings and the intimacy of the moment.
He looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, for the certainty that this step is one you both want to take. "Are you sure?" he asks quietly, his voice a mix of desire and concern. The last thing he wants is to rush you or make a decision that could complicate the fragile progress you've been making.
"Yes," you reply, your voice steady, eyes locked with his. There's a clarity in your decision, a conscious choice that speaks to the connection you still share. You're aware of the significance of this moment, of the potential it has to either rekindle something beautiful or to reignite past pains. But right now, you're choosing to focus on the present, on the longing you feel, and the man before you who still holds your heart.
“Take me to bed, Eren. Please.”
With your affirmation, Eren gently lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he supports you with strong arms. The kiss deepens, fueled by longing and a profound familiarity that has never truly faded. It's a dance of lips and breath, a silent conversation that speaks volumes about the love and tension that have always characterized your relationship.
Eren carries you with a tenderness that belies his strength, each step towards the bedroom measured and deliberate. The world outside this moment—the doubts, the history, the fears—falls away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable pull that has always existed between you.
As he lays you down on the bed, there's a reverence in his touch, a silent promise to cherish and respect the trust you're placing in him. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your chin, and each kiss is a wordless vow, a gentle affirmation of his love for you. Eren's lips move with a purpose, tracing a path of passion across your neck, your soft breaths an indication that he’s on the right path. When he reaches the buttons of your shirt, his eyes meet yours again, a silent question lingering in them, seeking permission to continue. You nod slightly, watching as he undoes each button slowly. When he realises you’re not wearing a bra, he lets out a low groan before taking a nipple inside his mouth. You moan, his expert tongue drawing circles around the nub, making you feel a warmth at the pit of your stomach. His fingers go to the other breast, squeezing it not too gently, something you understand given the fact he hasn’t touched you in more than five months. 
“You have the most perfect tits.” The comment pulls a soft giggle out of you, one that disappears the moment his palm lands on your clothed heat. Now he’s the one smiling, his tongue still working your sensitive nipples. He knew you loved it when he played with your breasts.
When he decides to keep going down, he lets go of your tit with a bop, then kisses down your navel, paying attention to every part of your unclothed body.
“I’ve thought about this every day.” A kiss. “Every night.” A lick. “Every fucking hour you weren’t with me.” A suckle.
Your moans echo through the bedroom as Eren undoes the belt on your jeans, chuckling when your impatient self lifts your hips to help him remove the garments more easily. He does as you wish, throwing your jeans onto the floor, cursing when he sees your white panties are soaked with your essence.
“It’s been so long, huh, baby?” He draws soothing circles around your clothed clit, “You missed me here?” 
“Yes, yes,” you’re restless, moving against his hand, trying to bring yourself more pleasure. “Please, Eren, please, I can’t wait any longer.”
“You won’t have to, baby, I promise.” And even if he didn’t, his erection was beginning to feel more painful than pleasurable. He needed to be inside you.
“I have to make you cum first, though.” He says firmly, “I need you to cum on my tongue.”
“No, just- please, can we do that later? I just, I need-“
“No.” And then you feel his tongue on your clit, and you have to put your hands against your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loudly. He’s always been so, so good at eating you out, always taking his time with it, until you were creaming inside his mouth, trying to get away from him from how sensitive he’d made you after cumming so many times. 
When he pushes his middle finger in, you start losing your mind. 
“Oh fuck, you’re drenched. Do you want another one?” 
He was such a good fucking talker, too. 
“Do it, do it, please-“
And that, he did, moving them in and out of you, then spitting on his other hand so it could go up to your breast and rub around your nipple. The combination, needless to say, makes you cum within seconds. 
Your whole body tenses as you let out a strained moan of his name, the strength of your orgasm leaving you completely breathless. It’s the kind of orgasm you feel on your fingertips, the type that makes every touch to your body electrifying.  
“I’m sorry, baby, I just couldn’t help it.” You faintly hear Eren’s voice, accompanied by the sound of clothes rustling that you believe are his. When you finally have the strength to look down, you see his beautiful, naked body before you, his cock finally free from its confinement. It’s a sight for sore eyes, and yours sure were that. His mouth shines with your liquids, and you don’t know why you’re blushing, as if you didn’t have this man’s child. He smiles down at you before he starts rubbing his tip at your entrance, hissing from how wet you are.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says, so gently, as if he’s not about to rock your whole world. “It hurt missing you so much.”
You want to kiss him in that moment, tell him it’s going to be fine, that you still love him, but you’re deprived of that opportunity when he pushes in, stretching your walls because of how big he is. Even though you were prepped, it still stung a little, and you think Eren knows because his strokes are slow and gentle, easing his way inside you.
“You feel amazing.” He whispers as he brings himself down to give you a sloppy kiss, your moans synchronising as he moves inside you. Your hands roam around his strong back, unconsciously pulling him down so you can feel him deeper.
“You want it harder, baby?” He asks between kisses, and you nod frantically, like it’s the only thing you will ever want in your life. When he begins to fuck you in a hastier pace, filling you up to the brim, he has to put his palm in front of your mouth so you don’t wake your sleeping daughter up.
“Shh, I know, I feel it too,” he has a hard time controlling himself as well, your pussy sucking him in so deliciously, he thinks he can stay like this forever. “Look at your tits bouncing. Just- if you could see yourself right now. You’re unreal.”
His words go to one place and one place only, making it even more pleasurable when he hits your spot over and over again.
“Rub your clit.” He instructs, sounding more and more out of breath. “I want you to cum with me.”
You do as you’re told, your fingers working on your sensitive bud as Eren stands back on his knees, his abs flexing with every move of his hips. He was becoming sloppier, like he was losing control of his rhythm, his fingers plunged into the fat of your ass as he moved you onto his dick. 
“Rub them faster.” He groans, “I’m so fucking close.”
“Oh, god!” Your body bounces on the mattress as you feel the nearing rush of your second orgasm approaching. “It’s coming, I’m- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“
“Me too, shit, shit, I love you,”, he fucks you through both your orgasms, lips swallowing your desperate moans, with a little tear rolling down your face from all the stimulation and his confession. No matter how many times you heard it, it still pulled an emotional reaction out of you.
When Eren’s hips come to a halt, he doesn’t pull out immediately, choosing to stay close to you and pepper your neck and shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. You’re spent, trying to catch your non-existing breath as your hand rubs gentle circles around your lover’s back. 
“I still can’t believe this happened.”
You smile against his ruffled hair, “Well, you better believe it because you just fucked the shit out of me.”
Your laughters fill the bedroom air, making the atmosphere lighter after the emotional rollercoaster that was the past hour. Eren cradles your face in his hands, and you just can’t imagine being any less happy than you are in this moment, “I’m never, ever letting you go again. Understand?” His voice is firm yet filled with a warmth that resonates with every beat of your heart.
You gaze into Eren's eyes, seeing the determination and love that shine back at you. His declaration, so full of certainty, wraps around you like a comforting embrace.
"I wouldn’t want you to," you reply, reaching your hand up to caress his cheek. "But we have to promise each other something, Eren. We have to promise that we'll communicate, be honest, and work through things together. No running, no hiding—just us, facing everything as a team."
Eren nods, the seriousness of your words not lost on him. "I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes.", and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he means it.
You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a seal to the vows you've just exchanged. It's a kiss that speaks of new beginnings, of forgiveness, and of the love that has weathered the storm.
Eren nestles his head against your chest, finding solace in the steady thrum of your heartbeat, while your fingers tenderly weave through his hair, caressing him with every affectionate stroke.
“What will we tell your mini-you?”
“That I slept on the couch. She’ll be so happy she won’t even care about anything else.”
You let out a chuckle, “That, she will be.”
And as you fall asleep in each others arms, the world outside fades into insignificance. The comfort of Eren's weight against you, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, and the softness of his hair beneath your fingertips are the only realities that matter. That will ever matter.
…..
A/N: I’m having a writer’s strike and this is what came out of it. It.. surely takes a turn lol. But what is love without a little angst😅 byeee
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lilywastaken · 10 months
Text
— Simon helps reader with getting ready.
> This blurb is part of my series — MÉNAGE !
CW: Talks of poor body image, stretch marks, scars.
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"'Necklace looks nice."
"You think?" You mumbled, staring at yourself in the mirror as you clipped the back. "It's weird, dressing up."
After all, it'd been a long time since you'd spent so long on your makeup or appearance, having given up mostly on cosmetics ever since you became a mother. Which made you all the more excited to do your makeup again, properly, not just the curling and mascara or gloss you'd rush when going out, a full-face of makeup, even if it was just for drinks with a few friends.
"Goes with the dress." Simon offered after a moment of silence, clearly having gone quiet in hopes of coming up with a compliment that didn't sound so bland, but said what he'd originally thought at the beginning as bland as it was, not knowing much about fashion.
"Yeah, I suppose." You snorted, looking down at the short skirt of the dress and trying to pull it down slightly to cover some of the stretch marks that threatened to show. "...maybe I should wear tights or something."
"Why?" Simon grunted, turning to look at you from his spot on your bed, Tommy rolling around in a few blankets next to him, playing with some of his father's fingers. "'S not going to be cold tonight."
"Yeah, but…" you pushed yourself out of your chair, turning around to show yourself to the blond, letting his eyes scan your body from head to toe, lingering slightly on the cleavage showing thanks to the low cut. "Look."
"I am."
"No! Here!" Your hands came down to rest on your thighs, bringing his attention to the plush parts of your legs. "They look ugly."
"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, scanning your skin in hopes of finding what you had deemed "ugly", findinging nothing. "What looks ugly?"
"The scars!" You whined, hands landing on your stomach and prodding at your tummy. "I mean… I got them after Tommy, they're all over my body, they kind of just… don't look good."
Simon outstretched a hand out to you, bringing you closer to the bed when you immediately took it, helping you kneel down on the mattress and collapse against his side, snuggling into his warmth as his arms enveloped you.
"I think they look good, lovie." He mumbled against the top of your head, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your arm. "'Reminder of what you did. Of what you made. 'Bit corny, but it's true."
"I know… it's just… Weird. I don't know how to explain it, Si…" you sighed, running your own fingers over his covered chest.
"If you don't feel comfortable showing them, there's no shame in covering up. Not going to try and force you to go out like that if you don't want to. Just remember you don't have to feel disgusted by them." He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, making sure to avoid your makeup in hopes of not ruining it.
"Yeah… I guess." You mumbled, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Just… nervous... Maybe I should just stay-"
"No. C'mon." Simon grunted, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you up and off the bed, leaning back against the array of pillows behind him. "You promised them."
"You really want me to go, huh?" You sighed, letting a cheeky smile pull at your lips as he looked down at you with an arched brow, trying to figure out if you were being serious with your accusation or not. But when he did, he let out a huff, rolling his eyes before squeezing you tighter, making you let out a string of giggles.
"Yeah. Fuckin' hate your guts. Been waiting for you to leave forever." He mumbled, contradicting his teasing words as he continued to press kisses against your face, relishing in the way your nose scrunched up and your eyes shone when he leaned back to gaze into them. "Go on then. Get on with it."
"Yeah, yeah." You laughed, rolling your eyes at him before slapping at his chest playfully, batting your eyelashes at him. "Hate you too, Si."
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