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talaok · 2 months

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Until now

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: It's Valentine's day morning, and your husband Joel is telling you all about what he's planned for the day, only he doesn't know you have a surprise of your own.

warnings: smut| oral sex (f receiving), edging if you squint, allusion to baby-making sex, and so much fluff you could drown in it. (No-outbreak!Joel but Sarah doesn't exist in this universe)

a/n: guys this is a lil cringe at times but i was listening to a real hero on repeat while i wrote it so forgive me but a bitch was feeling it

The first thing you felt were lips on your neck, his lips

then came the rest,

his arm wrapped around you, his body pressed to your back, his breath fanning over your neck, his beard stroking your skin, and when you opened your eyes, the soft glow of the morning sun shining through the curtains.

"morning beautiful"

his voice was hoarse with sleep, muffled by your neck.

"good morning" you smiled, turning your head to look at him, at your handsome, caring, perfect husband who was the only person able to make you smile in the morning.

His deep brown eyes looked up to yours, and the moment they did, his lips turned upwards into a grin as he drank the image before him.

How you looked so beautiful just awake was only one of the many mysteries about you.

"Slept well?" he asked, leaning closer to ghost your lips

"very" You were miraculously able to mumble before he was kissing you like it was the last time he ever could.

His tongue explored and savored every inch of you with the same eagerness and need of teenagers making out for the first time, until a soft giggle climbed your throat, and he leaned away, his hunger satiated ever so little.

"I see someone's wide awake" You bit down a chuckle, repositioning your ass just to ever so slightly grind against the hardness probing from his boxers

he groaned in pleasure before his usual smug smirk took over "that?" he hummed, rubbing his cock against your backside and forcing a little gasp out of your throat "that's jus' what you do to me, sweetheart"

Although you were smiling, you rolled your eyes at that, but before you knew it he was kissing you again, his arm pushing you even closer to him, before he rolled you onto your back, and climbed on top of you.

"happy valentines day" he murmured, another quick peck landing on your lips.

"happy valentines day baby"

He smiled then, like only you could make him, that same silly smile he didn't know he even had in him before he met you, before you opened his eyes to how amazing life could be, if you only let it.

He hummed as he started descending down your body, worshipping every inch of it with his lips, his tongue, his hands- while you squirmed underneath him, biting down every whimper that begged to be voiced.

"So are you finally gonna tell me what you've planned, mr. romantic?" you asked, your voice breathy as his face traveled to "his favorite place on earth" as he always liked to put it, alternatively called between your thighs.

"mhh" he hummed, licking the inside of your right thigh, making you moan out loud this time "first" he started, continuing to tease you, getting closer and closer to your core, but never really there, "first we're going to the bookstore" he murmured, softly kissing your mound, as a silly smile erupted on your face

"the one that just opened?" you asked, propping yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him

"of course" he smirked, chuckling softly at your reaction "I think you just got wetter"

"shut up" you laughed, but before you could say anything more, his tongue had started tasting you already.

"oh my god"

"and you can buy as many books as you want" he continued explaining, as you panted beneath him, his mouth alternating between latching to your clit and exploring your slick slit "with no spending limit"

A louder moan spilled from your lips at that, and he smiled, amused.

"a-and then?" you inquired, your hand going to his locks, as you forced yourself to look at him, at your pretty husband bringing heaven to you with his mouth.

"and then we're going to the movie theater" he muttered between laps "They're showing a bunch of those god-awful rom-coms you like"

You giggled through the pleasure, through the happiness.

"You like them too Miller" you teased

"Mhh" he mocked, "Sure I do sugar"

Again, a laugh, the same one he'd never get tired of hearing

"You're a bad liar baby"

He didn't answer, he only started sucking your clit, and all your ability to form coherent sentences dissipated into thin air

"'m not so bad at everything at least" he smirked, slowing down again to torture you just a little longer.

"j-joel" you whined

"don't you wanna know the rest of my plan?"

"yes but later works too"

"agree to disagree," he said, licking your core again and again, until you were soaking the sheets "And then" he resumed from where he left off "we're going to dinner, but where is a surprise"

You were smiling like an idiot.

There he was, your husband telling you all about the day he'd planned just for you.

"You like my plan?"

"I love it baby" you beamed

"yeah?" he grinned, clearly happy "not as much as you're gonna like this"

And then, then in just a few moments, he had pushed you over the edge.

Because he knew your body better than you at this point.

You gripped his hair, nearly ripping them off of him, as you cried out his name over and over until your neighbors probably decided to write you another passive-aggressive note about the "obscene noises" you caused.

You were breathing heavily while he leaned up to cage your entire body with his, your eyes droopy and a sickly sweet beam on your lips matching his.

God what a fool you'd been when you thought you knew what love was. This- this is what love really is. Him. Joel Miller. He's true love.

He kissed you then, pulling you out of your own thoughts as he let you taste all of yourself on his tongue.

"I have a surprise for you too, you know?" you said, your hand on his cheek, softly stroking his beard.

"'s that right?" he smirked

"yup" you nodded, smiling although some tension was taking over your body

But then again, when you looked into his eyes... at all the love and care in them... it all faded away.

"well first, I'm gonna make you breakfast mister" you murmured, your other hand on his back drawing soft circles "Heart-shaped pancakes and all"

"mhh how romantic" he hummed, kissing your forehead "Thank you sugar"

"and second..." you bit your lip, swallowing thickly

"what?" he asked, noticing the shift in your demeanor

"I've stopped taking the pill Joel" you murmured "I want to start trying"

And just then, when you saw a spark ignite in his eyes and his mouth fall slack, you knew you didn't have any reason to worry.

You knew he wanted it,

he told you so, but you weren't ready yet, and as always, he had understood, never bringing it up again, until the moment you'd be ready too... until now

"A-Are you-"

"yes" you smiled, watching as slowly, his lips curled more and more into the biggest smile he ever smiled "I'm sure" you promised "I want to have a baby. I want to have your baby, Joel"

"I-" he didn't know what to say, he didn't know if he was dreaming, if he was still alive, he didn't know anything, anything except one thing:

"I love you" he breathed, his eyes blown wide with shock, with joy, with love "I love you so fucking much"

"i love you t-"

But you couldn't end the sentence because his lips were already devouring yours

"I'm gonna make you the pretties mama the world has ever seen darlin'"

Tears were pooling in your eyes as you answered

"better get to work then" you smiled "'cause I know this baby can't wait to meet his daddy"

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nonranghaes · 4 months

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"it's just me."

you barely get a chance to roll onto your back before soonyoung's already climbing onto the bed and somewhat on top of you and your blankets, and it's only seconds later that he crashes. it's far from the first time this has happened (soonyoung is clingy and cuddly, especially when he's sleepy), but he manages to knock the wind out of you nonetheless. he rests his head on your chest, and you wiggle an arm out to curl around him as best as you can in your semi-trapped position.

"soonyoung--"

"just go back to sleep," he murmurs. "everything's fine."

you stroke his hair, thumb dipping down to graze his cheek at one point. "soonie--"

"i mean it," he says, eyes peering up in the low light to see yours. "i'm fine. just need to nap." his hand finds yours, and he wraps your arm around him as he snuggles in. he plants a kiss against your chest before resting his head against it again, eyes fluttering shut. "you can rest a little longer, too."

you settle back down after a moment, arms wrapped around soonyoung as you shut your eyes again. sometimes you swear this tiger is a teddy bear, but regardless of which he is, he's yours.

#nonranghaes.thoughts #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung fluff #nonranghaes.svt #hi sorry i just. needed to write something short n soft #tw for medical stuff in the tags but i need to call hospice abt a catheter bc shes... getting weaker ultimately #which. i dont know if i should be Worried or if this is normal for someone in her condition yknow?#we've started tracking how much she eats bc shes never rly ate much like. Ever. and its hard to know when shes fully pulling back from food #most of the time though its just... quiet. she just sleeps a lot. i dont know what to make of it...#anyway sorry for the small vent here im just... getting through it all ig #i need a soonyoung to cuddle with and to help me feel like i can make it through this

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venusbby · 11 months

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"rin, i want a hug."

"no."

rin says it almost too quickly. the first second after that makes your teasing smile falter a little, but you quickly recover when you replay that two letter word in your head again to hear his tone— that familiar sarcasm. the next few seconds are pretty fast. you don't have time to think again as he slowly turns his chair around to look at you after he's tossed away whatever it was on his desk that he was fidgeting with.

you stare back stubbornly, your eyes like fake daggers while you wait for him to say something more.

he leans forward in his chair, staring up at you as you stand right in front of him. his pretty lips curve into a soft "no." as he speaks again. his arms reach out for your waist, trailing down to your hips as he pulls you closer.

"no?" you ask softly, taking two steps forward until you're within reach and he slowly lets his head fall against your stomach.

"no." he replies blankly.

he says no as his hands go from holding your hips to completely wrapping around you, until his face is pressed into your tummy and he's closing his eyes.

"you're so weird," you finally chuckle.

"mhm." he shrugs, that tone again, hugging you tighter to himself, his cheek pressed against you. "you won't get it."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, whatever. i don't want to get it. you keep staying weird like this, i won't judge."

he doesn't respond after that, just breathing in deeply before he slowly pulls you down to straddle him so he can hug you better, feel your hair tickling his face as his face fits into the crook of your neck and you begin to relax against his body as well.

you kiss his dark hair softly, tightening your hold on him as you shift and get more comfortable in his chair. your voice is overly excited and looking forward to saying what you're thinking. "you're like the guy from riverdale. you know that quote? it goes like, 'in case you haven't noticed, i'm weird. i'm a weirdo. i don't fit i—"

"if i let you go, which is really tempting right now— you will fall backwards onto the floor and i will not be picking you up."

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spicycinnabun · 2 months

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“Again with the moon? What’s wrong with it?”

“I just don’t like it!” Mickey said, waving his hands at the window where said moon glared at him from the sky. “It glows too much! Directly in my eyes! I can’t fuckin’ sleep!”

“Okay…” Ian replied slowly. Too slowly. Mickey wasn’t being dramatic and unreasonable. He wasn’t. “Let’s switch places.”

Mickey sniffed, nose twitching. “Why would we fuckin’ do that?”

These were their unspoken spots on the bed. Mickey was always near the window, and Ian was near the door.

“Just do it, Mick. And scoot your pillow down a little. Trust me.”

They swapped spots. Mickey’s head hit the pillow further down the bed, and Ian turned on his side. His chest and shoulder obstructed the window from Mickey’s view.

“Oh,” he said quietly. And then, even more quietly, “Thanks.”

Ian rested his hand atop Mickey’s stomach, rubbing it and smiling softly. “We’ll shop for blinds tomorrow.”

#fic #just a little something #fluff n stuff #gallavich #ian x mickey #gallavich drabble #gallavich fic #s11 #soft supportive husbuns #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #🌙

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aishgumi · 4 months

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- megumi fushiguro as ur boyfriend 🩵

summary: MORE unserious crack im sorry 😢😢 i have 0 ideas right now so plzz go on the “ask🎤” on my profile and send me some if you have them i will do any jjk character and anything u want!!

aisha: thank you guys for liking and reblogging my stuff! it really means a lot to me and im glad to see you guys enjoying my stuff 🩵

taglist: @gojoallmine @yourmom23sworld @aniuyyy

^^ if u wanna be in the taglist reblog the post that says “reblog for taglist” 🐬

#its 2pm and i just woke up TwT #hope u guys are liking my stuff #hes so babygirl #i just wanna put him in my pocket #jjk megumi #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n #megumi imagine #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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happi-dreams · 2 months

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Uhh silly au go woo!!!

Basic idea : catnap but he’s now a little magical dream being that can go into the critters dreams and help them out when they’re having nightmares and such (like princess luna but with cinderella’s grandmother aesthetics)

( lil comic under the cut!! :D )

#they’re very silly to me #catnap #dogday #art #smiling critters au #idk what to call this au yett #but i think its neat #all of the crittters wear jammies and they just sorta vibe #with catnap just kinda being a sorta mystery to them #oh yeah lil funfact bout him #his lil moon pendant glows whenever a critter is having a nightmare #and his little smoke trail thing is all red n stuff ish #this au is just mostly fluff stuff

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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First time for everything (modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au — part 2)

✨ part 1 — “All yours”

words: ~ 6900 (it’s worth it, though ;) warnings: a TON of fluff (is anyone surprised at this point?), smut (minors DNI), you may feel a little sad that he’s not your boyfriend (I certainly do)

author’s note: this was supposed to be mostly romantic headcanons but then something came over me... honestly, I blame it on the goddamn golden chain! can’t believe I wrote this, I’m drinking holy water as we speak

⋙ You think you should be concerned with how easy things are with him. With how fast he sneaks into your thoughts, and his hand effortlessly finds yours, and you relish in the simplest touch, in the feeling of comfort that he brings, and he knows all the right words, and the two of you fit like puzzle pieces.

With anyone else, you would’ve been concerned but Aemond gives you no reason to be.

⋙ Your first date comes in a week, and you’re not nervous about it but more so ridiculously curious — he only mentions that you should dress casually, and you think of dinner or maybe a picnic. But when the cab brings you to the city center, and Aemond opens the door for you — you find yourself standing at the steps of a gallery and you instantly know where he brought you to. It’s a three-week exhibition of Mexican artists, the one you’ve been dying to go to. You only mentioned it once and in passing weeks ago, frustrated that the tickets were sold out in 15 minutes, and since then you have long forgotten about it. But Aemond hasn’t. The realization that he remembered that little detail makes you stupidly sentimental, and you can’t utter a word. He brings you into a hug, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“We can get another Uber and go to my place and watch every rom-com you can think of if it makes you feel better.”

With your head nuzzled to his chest, you hear his heartbeat, the sound of it calming like a rumble of waves. When you shyly look up at him, the color of his eyes is dusted with scattered sunlight.

“Aemond, but you planned — ”

“I planned to spend time with you,” he hushes you with that same tone of gentle certainty. “Everything else is just decorations we can easily switch up.”

His reassurance sounds more like a promise, and you have it engraved in your memory, along with him, looking at you like this. And you think he should make some memories, too, so you take him by the hand and lead the way.

⋙ You opt for an audio guide since both of you aren’t keen on following crowds, and you enthusiastically walk from one painting to the other, sharing the earphones, your fingers intertwined with his, and you can’t help but talk over the guide. Aemond doesn’t complain once. Every time you look at him, he’s smiling brightly at you, and sometimes he leaves a quick peck on the bow of your shoulder. Somewhere in between Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, you realize that you really want to kiss him.

⋙ Part of the exhibition is a screening of a documentary played in a small dark hall, and Aemond is naive to think you actually want to watch it. You drag him in, and the place is empty, only lit by the movie screen, and before he can ask a thing, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss him until you’re both out of breath. And then you tell him it’s the best date you’ve ever had.

“You mean, the best so far,” he remarks cheekily — and trails for your lips again.

⋙ On the next date, you learn that he loves to cook. The man who can live off protein shakes and steaks actually owns cookbooks and lets you pick a meal but forbids you to help him, saying that you deserve a break. Still, you charm your way into the kitchen to assist him with making the sauce, and Aemond is unable to say no. You are a chaotic cook and he follows the recipe but somehow you make a great team — he’s good at cutting vegetables and measuring, you pick all the right spices and know what al dente is. He looks absurdly gorgeous in an apron, and you end up sitting on his lap while he lifts a forkful of pasta to your mouth. You bashfully confess that you’ve always wanted to re-enact the kissing scene from “Lady and the Tramp”. He grins at your confession — and gladly helps to make your wish come true. A couple of times.

⋙ You do go on a picnic — you feed him cherries and Aemond reads you his favorite book out loud, you wear his hoodie again and his perfume lingers on your hair. He takes you to the biggest library in town and you spend hours looking for that one old copy of Sylvia Plath’s book of poems, and he steals a few kisses from you in between endless rows of shelves. You go to a fancy french bakery and he buys you one of each kind of pastry, and you are both all sugared up — and in love.

⋙ When Aemond has to leave for a competition, it’s not necessarily tragic — since you knew it was coming — and it’s only for five days, but you get blindsided by the realization of how attached you’ve become. On the night before his departure, he invites you in for a movie marathon, brings you popcorn and makes you laugh to tears, and then you doze off in his arms. He moves you onto his bed and tucks you in, and you wake up when his side of the bed is still warm. You find freshly made waffles in the kitchen — and there’s a blue post-it note on the fridge that says: “I’m gonna miss you more. — A.”

He leaves you a spare key to his apartment.

Your breakfast tastes like tears.

⋙ The first day without him is pure misery, but you eat your waffles and follow the routine, and Aemond sends you texts every chance he gets. You make him a playlist called “Kick some ass” (he does), and you kick yourself for not coming up with an excuse to go with him. On the second day, you pull out his hoodie in a poor attempt to find some comfort but his scent had almost dissipated, and his seat next to you stays empty, and each class only reminds you of his absence. On the third day, you are up to your ears in studying and you miss Aemond’s phone call, and your heart all but erupts from yearning.

On the fourth day, Mr. Harrold brings up Marina Tsvetaeva’s love poems, and you think that must be some cruel joke. You spend half an hour pretending to be deaf, but then the professor quotes:

“to kiss the lips is to drink water,”

— and suddenly you are nothing but thirst, and you feel like you are about to burst into tears again. You don’t know how you manage to sit through the rest of it but as soon as the class is over you sprint out and buy a train ticket. You don’t bother yourself with packing, only picking up your toothbrush, a face wash and Aemond’s hoodie. And you know for sure that you’ve fallen hard for him.

⋙ You arrive by the time their morning training is over, and the guys are piling out of the locker rooms already. Aemond is one of the last to come out, his hair still wet and his t-shirt clearly not ironed, and his face is too sad for your liking. His best friend Cregan notices you first, elbowing your boyfriend with a smile. Aemond follows his gaze with indifference — and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. A second later his face lights up. And then you do the cheesiest, right-out-of-the-movies kind of thing — you run to him, he scoops you up, you wrap your legs around his waist.

“I didn’t know that you would come,” Aemond is grinning ear to ear. “I would’ve picked you up to save you some time and — ,” you can’t stop yourself from kissing him, a tad modestly but with ardor nonetheless, and he forgets what he wanted to say. You card fingers through his hair and notice a shadow that spread under his eyes. You want to cook him dinner and pepper kisses all over his face and wrap him up in blankets so he can get some rest. Aemond bumps his nose into yours.

“Please don’t skip classes for me,” he entreats but his tone suggests that he’s delighted that you did. His gaze warms you up like sunlight.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never done it before,” you lower your voice as if it’s a well-guarded secret. “But I was feeling adventurous.”

He plays along with a mischievous smile:

“First time for everything, huh?”

You two leave right after the awarding ceremony, and Aemond doesn’t bother to stay for the farewell party. He ends up falling asleep on your shoulder, with his hands wrapped around you, and some old lady on the train ‘awws’ at you. He naps in the cab, too, his fingers ensnared into your palm, and you’re overcome with emotion, wishing that the ride to his apartment lasted a bit longer. You order take-out while he’s still fighting off sleep but does so while cuddling you on his couch. There’s another, internal battle that he’s having as his face goes more somber than tired but your kisses and food seem to help.

That is until Aemond pulls you in bed, back into his arms, his breath tickling your neck.

“It was no fun,” he finally admits, “leaving you.”

You interlock your fingers with his, your lips graze his knuckles before you turn to face him.

“But it will get easier,” you promise — both him and yourself. “And I missed you, too.”

His lips melt into yours to seal the promise, and you breathe in a lungful of his scent. Aemond passes out in no time, and you watch his chest rising and falling, the steady rhythm of it eventually lulling you to sleep. Right before that, you think that it was your first separation out of many to come, but in the end, it’s all worth it when he’s the one you are waiting for.

⋙ Another thing you two are yet to cross off your list is, surprisingly, sex. Aemond is the one to suggest taking it slow, and it does make sense at first — with his competitions scheduled back to back and you being swamped with homework, both of you doing the bare minimum to help each other deal with exhaustion. He sends you reminders to take a break, you help him with meal planning and spend evenings reading together, most times with his head on your lap. Aemond leaves you snacks and post-it notes with his favorite quotes of Russian poetry, which brings some excitement into your studying — and you come to his training, being the supportive girlfriend that you are.

And that turns out to be a problem.

⋙ Watching Aemond train is quite a spectacle — enthralling at first, but also unspeakably arousing as you come to learn fairly soon. He is focused and fast, his toned body flexible and moving with energetic precision. He’s got a quick reaction and there’s a glint of threat in his gaze that makes some of his competitors feel uneasy. He’s not the one to rip t-shirts apart and flex muscles (much to some girls’ disappointment) but to you, it only fuels the anticipation that spills in your lower abdomen. But your lusting wanes when you see the weary look on his face, and you only snuggle up to him as closely as possible, deeming that enough for now.

One of these days Aemond comes out of the locker room with Cregan whose arm is draped over your boyfriend’s shoulder, his hold tight like a bear trap, but the intent is friendly.

“Y/N, you need to side with me on this one,” Cregan enthusiastically pleads. “I’m throwing a party and this monk doesn’t want to go! I was hoping you’d make him socialize.”

“I will not make him do anything,” you retort politely, and Aemond gives you a look of gratitude. “But we can negotiate once you stop holding him hostage.”

Cregan lets out a bellowing laugh, freeing Aemond with a pat on the back.

“I’ll never force our star boy to bear having a good time but I’d love for you two to join us,” he warm-heartedly explains. “Just think about it!”

He leaves you in the cooling stillness of the evening, and Aemond plants a kiss on your temple.

“We don’t have to go,” he immediately assures.

“Your friends can’t be that bad.”

“They get a bit wild when drunk,” he chuckles softly into your hair. “And Cregan is set on having a dress code each time.”

“Is it something wild, too?”

“No, mostly formal, and the guys usually end up throwing away the ties.”

“Doesn’t sound bad to me,” you draw circles on his palm. “Maybe we can have some fun,” your smile is a tad impish, and his looks surprisingly pleased when he agrees.

The sky is painted by the sunset, pink tones of it reflecting on Aemond’s face. You’d like to see him all dressed up. And then strip him of his clothing.

⋙ You hate shopping for dresses so your best friend tags along, and she dismisses at least a dozen of options before managing to fish out the perfect one — knee-length and with a deep cut on the back, it’s the color of a sea storm with a splash of purple. Once you put the dress on, she comments approvingly:

“He will fuck your brains out.”

“Arya!” you hiss at her but she looks unamused.

“What? I thought that’s what you wanted. Kinda surprised he hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”

“We are taking it slow,” you remind her while staring in the mirror. You try not to think of how easy it will be to take this dress off.

“Very PG-13 of you,” she huffs with a smile. “But I guess I should thank him.”

“How so?” you raise a brow at her.

“I fear, once you get a taste,” Arya gives you a suggestive look, “he will keep you in bed for days. At least for now I still have a chance to hang out with you.”

You feel your cheeks heating up at the mere thought of it. And you hope that’s exactly what happens.

⋙ Aemond comes to pick you up on Friday evening. He buzzes in through an intercom and you let him in, opening the front door in advance. You go back to your room to put on the heels, briefly stopping to fix your hair. Aemond walks in with no warning, his voice brimming over with boyish excitement:

“I was just thinking — ,” and then he falls silent, seeing you standing with your back to the door.

You look at Aemond over your shoulder, moving your hair away from your neck to expose more skin, and turn to him slowly.

“You, um... I-You — ” he clears his throat. Then does it again, eyes roaming over your body. “This dress looks really good on you,” he manages to say while you take him in.

The color of his suit is almost black and it sets off his dark blue shirt, crisp and carelessly unbuttoned. His jacket is an excellent fit, framing his shoulders and sitting tightly around his arms. But what catches your attention is the golden chain that snakes along his collarbones, part of it coyly hiding in the depths of the dark material. Your eyes fix on the shining jewelry — for a brief moment, you contemplate staying at home and undressing him to find out where the chain ends.

You blink that thought away, remembering that it’s time to leave as both you and Aemond hate being late. You walk over to him, running your hand over his jacket:

“You look quite charming yourself,” you give him a smile instead of a kiss. “What were you saying?”

Aemond seems startled and supposedly oblivious to the effect he has on you but you catch a twirl of darkness condensing in his gaze. In the depths of it, there’s a flicker of need, of hunger — and you wonder if he’s been ravenous this entire time, too.

“You should come over tonight,” he suggests, and you don’t need him to give you a reason.

“Sounds like a plan,” you move your hand away, suppressing a frustrated sigh so he won’t get the wrong idea. Or the very right idea that you try your best to push aside, at least for a couple of hours.

On your way out of the apartment, you can feel him gazing devouringly at you. You let him.

⋙ Cregan is a combination of a party animal and a homeboy — he pours drinks with one hand and threatens to rip anyone’s head off for leaving as much as a scratch on his family’s porcelain tea set. He jokes and generously compliments all the girls he meets but he also respects boundaries and makes sure to pay the same attention to his fiancee, Alysanne. She doesn’t mind, her black curls bouncing while she laughs and warmly greets the guests. You catch her eye in no time — she’s smiley, her gaze filled with curiosity.

“Everyone is dying to meet you,” she takes you under the arm and leads away to introduce you to a motley group of girls, and within a minute you are caught in the current of voices and faces. They bombard you with questions, chatty but not too prying, some already a bit tipsy and way more friendly than they would’ve been otherwise. But you let yourself enjoy the talks and gossip, mostly for Aemond to have some fun with his friends. And he actually does.

They talk sport, as expected, their arguing innocuous, followed by toasts and some banter. They play poker although half of them barely remember the rules so it’s hardly gambling but they do get rid of ties pretty fast. Cregan puts on some music, breaks a few glasses and calls for your boyfriend to join them for beer pong. Aemond has no intention to get wasted so Cregan takes it upon himself while your boyfriend throws the ball into the cups with ease. Other guys call it cheating, Cregan says it’s an allocation of duties.

Aemond laughs — sincerely, with his dimples showing, but you note that he never refills his glass of whiskey. And every time you throw a glance at him, his eyes are on you, and the golden chain seems to attract every ray of light in the room. You only have one drink — a watered-down gin tonic, but you feel like you can liquor up just by looking at him. In an hour, when they move to the pool table, Aemond slings his jacket over one shoulder and rolls up his sleeves — and you’re dazed, lust swelling in you, sweet and viscous like honey.

He aims the pool balls and makes the shots but each one echoes in your lower belly. You try to think of a reason to leave but you can’t think straight, and Aemond seems completely unaware of your torment but then one of his mates makes the wrong shot, and a ball falls off the table, rolling at your feet. You move to pick it up — as gracefully as your dress would allow it, and walk to them, and suddenly Aemond watches your every step. You only lean on the side of the pool table, with no intention to tease or bend over, yet his eyes scan over your whole body, his hold on the cue tightening.

“Earth to Aemond,” Cregan mutters with a smirk. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he musters in reply. “I think I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

He stares at you, and you nod with a silent agreement that comes with a delectable foretaste.

⋙ Cregan walks you two to the cab, red in the face from all the alcohol but still good-humored. He gives you a big hug, politely keeping his hands at your shoulder level, and then embraces Aemond, too.

“I’m so glad you came!” he rumbles excitedly and then adds, “I was afraid I’d never live to see the day.”

“Man, we see each other pretty often,” Aemond laughs off.

“No, I mean this,” Cregan gestures at you. “Finally, you got the girl!”

Aemond looks at you — happy and proud, his hands finding your waist, and your heart sings with glee. You all but drag your boyfriend away as Cregan guffaws and waves you goodbye.

“He’ll stop his teasing eventually,” Aemond chortles once you get into the car, and it sounds like he mostly wants to reassure himself.

“Well, he does have a point — you took your time with me,” you giggle, straightening his collar. “I was kinda expecting you to kiss me in the locker room,” you jokingly pout.

“You mean, the place that smells like a bunch of sweaty men? Nope, that’s not how I imagined our first kiss to be,” he rebuts but then his face freezes, and you realize he didn’t mean to let it slip. You turn your head to him, and the reddening of his cheeks is visible even in the dim lighting of the car. He avoids your gaze — your tall, handsome, annoyingly hot boyfriend — because he’s clearly flustered. Every time you think he can’t get any more attractive, he somehow does.

You move closer, your arm bumping into his.

“Was it the only thing you’ve imagined us doing?” you ask quietly.

He looks at you in an instant, and when your eyes meet, you bite your lower lip, a twinkle of a smile in the corners of your mouth. You can only hope that he takes the hint — and, by the look on his face, he does.

“No,” Aemond gulps. “Definitely not the only thing.”

You place your hand on his knee and then leisurely move your palm higher, stopping at his upper thigh, letting your fingers slide to the inner side of it, all of that while maintaining eye contact. He’s holding his breath the entire time.

“Dare to share?” you lean in, putting your chin on his shoulder. “Or better... show me?” the question is only meant for him to hear.

There’s a shift in the air and your pulse skyrockets, and you feel like you’re ten seconds away from straddling him right here and now. But then Aemond covers your hand with his and says:

“Yeah, I can show you.”

⋙ You expect him to be all over you once you’re in the elevator but no, he’s the epitome of restraint. If only it wasn’t for his jaw clenched and his back tense — and him literally closing his eyes because there are mirrors around the perimeter, and he physically cannot avoid looking at you. He rushes out of the elevator but does his best to slow the pace as he knows you won’t be able to keep up with your heels on.

He unlocks the door with one turn of the key and then moves away to let you in first, you hurry in, he follows suit, the door closes with a bang. The apartment is dark, the street lighting shyly peeking through the windows, your heart is pounding so loud, you can barely hear a thing — and then your turn to Aemond, and he’s already looking at you. And the world stands still.

He takes a step toward you, one after another, shamelessly leering at you, and the sheer intensity of his gaze is enough for you to feel the all-familiar throbbing between your legs.

“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he rasps when you’re barely a meter apart. You can’t tell who closes the distance first but in the next second his lips collide with yours — as eager and vehement as ever — and your mind goes blank, your body overflowing with lust that spreads with blood and rages like fever.

His hand nestles under the angle of your jaw, his mouth avidly capturing yours, drinking your little sighs, while your fingers are tugging at his shirt — they accidentally slip down, and Aemond groans, his own arousal making his pants tight. He spins you around, your back resting against his chest as he lowers the straps of your dress — and rapidly pulls the upper part of it down. You are not wearing a bra, your bosom heaving with shaky breaths, and he inhales sharply at the sight. He moves to gently squeeze your breasts, hands full of supple flesh, and then he tentatively rolls your nipples between his fingers. Your head falls back on his shoulder, a low moan escaping your mouth, and you grind against him, desperate to feel more.

“You are so sensitive,” Aemond coos, his breath warm against your neck, your nipples hardening in his hands. “So beautiful.”

He goes for your zipper, pulling it down, and his fingers slide under the slinky material, raring to touch your skin. You wiggle your way out of the dress, and he helps to take it off, his hands following every curve of your body, stirring you up. Turning around, you claim his lips, your tongue finding his in a frenzy as you push the jacket off him, your shoes already lying around in the hallway, and he maneuvers you toward the bedroom. Aemond roughly swings the door wide open — and then he tenderly lays you down on the bed like you are his most prized possession.

He undresses at the speed of light and, at any other time, it would’ve made you laugh but it only turns you on more — the growing anticipation, the hunger he has for you, the all-consuming desire that fills you to the brim. Aemond strips down to his boxers — and he looks god-like, slim and muscled, and it feels like a blessing when he kisses you again. He hooks your panties with one finger and breaks the kiss to drag them down, his touch leaving a burning trail from your hip to your heel.

And then he gets on his knees.

Aemond places a hand on your ankle, massaging small circles there as he slowly pulls you toward the edge of the bed. Your breath shudders at the realization of what he’s about to do, and he grins — greedily, darting his tongue to wet his lips. Aemond moves you closer and puts one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving kisses up your calf. He uses his hand to spread you wide for him and hums with contentment upon seeing you glistening with arousal.

“I wonder who made you so wet,” he teases, fixing his gaze on you.

You intend to answer him but the six-letter word — his name — is stuck in your throat as he runs his thumb up to your clit — and, without a warning, repeats the movement with his tongue, licking a wide stripe and then diving right in. Your eyes flutter shut and you can feel him opening his mouth wider, his lower lip moving down along your folds, his tongue lapping at you with a voracity of a starved man, jolts of pleasure rippling through you within seconds. You have to cover your mouth with a hand to muffle a long-drawn moan, afraid that his neighbors will hear although you can’t even remember if he has any.

Aemond looks up at you, the lower part of his face obscenely wet.

“I feel that you are holding back,” he says in a husky voice, his eyes dark with lust. “But I can fix that.”

He gives you no time to catch your breath as he sucks at your clit and slides a finger into you, making you cry out loud, your hips unwillingly bucking upward. You really want to know how the hell is he so good at this but you can’t concentrate on anything but the feeling of his tongue, your body trembling in his hands like a guitar string. Aemond adds a second finger with ease, curling them both inside you, and then you feel a distinct vibration as he can’t hold back his own moan, seeing you like this, tasting you like this — and it sends you over the edge.

Aemond helps you ride out your orgasm, leaving soft kisses around your navel as you come down from your high, your mind hazy and breathing ragged but you keep your eyes focused on him. With a blink of an eye, he’s fully naked and with a condom on. He’s bathing in the moonlight that outlines his tense muscles, his face flushed pink but with no hint of shyness, and when he locks his gaze with yours, it flares up your desire all over again, and he notices it right away.

Aemond has a grin on his face as he hovers over you, lips contouring your jawline, and he presses his tip at your entrance but doesn’t push it in, instead coating it in the wetness that’s already pooling between your legs. But his teasing is short-lived as he lasts for barely a minute, sliding his cock up and down — and then his eyelids flutter, and a small moan leaves his lips. You wiggle your hips, clenching around nothing, and look at him, whimpering “Aemond” — and that’s all it takes.

He sinks in you in one swift motion, so thick and filling you up so perfectly, your mouth falls open in a silent cry.

“Fuck, I — ,” he sucks in a breath, not moving an inch. “I-I need to go slow or I will not last.”

He lowers his face, leaving a trail of kisses from your breasts up to your neck, and they burn like bruises on your heated skin. His hips roll against yours agonizingly slow, and you feel like your whole body is on fire, and you need him deeper, and you crave more of him, all of him. A glint of gold catches your attention, your eyes moving to the chain that dangles down his neck, and you pass the cool metal between your fingers. You lightly tug at the chain with your lips and then release it with a wet sound, looking at Aemond through your lashes. You feel his breath hitching, his gaze not leaving your mouth.

You part your lips, letting the chain slip in, and then grit your teeth, the gold glimmering between them. You push the chain out with your tongue, swiping it over the jewelry and sucking the chain back into your mouth. Aemond is so spellbound, he stills his movements, his pupils dilated to the rim. He brings his hand to your face, tracing your lower lip and then opening your mouth again to pull the chain out, his lips slanting over yours.

“Aemond,” you breathe out into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

His restraint snaps and crumbles and dissolves completely. He pulls out for merely a second before slamming back into you, and the movement electrifies every nerve in your body, eliciting a yelp from you. Before you know it, he’s pounding into you at an ungodly pace, his hips harshly snapping forward, finding just the right spot, while his grip on you is still gentle, and you feel an overwhelming pressure building up, your moans turning into wails, your body going weak and pliable, aching for release.

“I-I am so close, I need... ,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, throat soar and voice strained. “I — Aemond... — please.”

He understands it perfectly and smiles breathlessly at you.

“So fucking polite,” he purrs, his teeth grazing your neck. “And all mine.”

His hand slips between your bodies, zeroing in on your clit, and then he starts tapping on it, the movement precise and fast, fanning your overstimulated skin, and it makes your whole body quiver violently as your orgasm washes over you like a heatwave, and you don’t care if the whole neighborhood hears you. Aemond’s eyes never leave your face while you come undone, your back arching as your walls tense and pulse around him, and he follows soon after, his moans muffled by the crook of your neck.

It takes a minute for you to come to your senses as he pulls out and rolls on his back, bringing you into his embrace. You both try to regain your breath, and the time crawls while you are in this bubble of intimacy.

“It’s the dress, isn’t it?” you break the comfortable silence, your fingers tracing a dash of moles on his skin.

“The dress is downright sinful,” Aemond laughs, “but no,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

There’s an unexpected pause, and then he speaks up with raw emotion in his voice:

“I want you all the time.”

You glance up at him, your hand moving up his chest, and you feel his heart beating erratically like a bird trapped in a cage.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to rush it. I knew that once we...,” he stutters, and your eyes dart to his lips, swollen and raspberry-tinted. “There’s no going back from here.”

He just made you cum twice and now he's stumbling over his words — and it’s the perfect combination, truly. Your tenderness clashes with something more primal, igniting the flames all over again, and his fingers already tighten the grip on your thigh.

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t want to go back,” you murmur, and he lowers his head first to capture your lips with his, and you think that Arya was right. And then his hand slides between your legs and you can’t think of anything at all.

⋙ A week later, there isn’t a single flat surface in his apartment left that you didn’t have sex on. Aemond wants to know every way to make you feel good and he gets down to work with the diligence of a straight-A student. He’s eager to learn but he does take his time to practice — and you enjoy every minute of it as he maps your body and memorizes all the spots that make you weak. But apart from the ardent passion, there’s this caring softness of his that fills your heart with love even when you least expect it.

It happens one morning when he sits you down on the kitchen counter, his hand in your pants, fingers sliding into you, deep and rhythmic, as his mouth covers your nipple — and you sharply arch your back, risking hitting your head on a wall but Aemond manages to place his hand there and keeps it behind your nape the entire time.

Or on another day, when you two burst into his apartment after his training, your hands all over him as you hop onto the wooden shoe stand, unbuttoning his jeans, and he hikes your skirt to your thighs, pushing your panties aside, and fills you up, his mouth muffling your moans — and then his palm lands on the wooden surface and he breaks the kiss:

“This wasn’t made for sitting on it, I can tell.”

You honestly couldn’t care less but Aemond doesn’t wait for you to respond — he easily hoists you up, still hard and fully in you, and as you squirm and shiver with pleasure, he brings you into his room and lowers you on the bed.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he smirks, his hands skimming up your thighs.

You are not sure if it’s about the fluffy blanket or him instantly picking up the pace but you nod vigorously, pushing your hips up to meet his. He sucks on the sweet spot close to your ear and whispers:

“It’s about to get better.”

And it does.

⋙ He buys a new shoe stand the very next day. He brings it in and assembles it himself, and you watch him with a blip of guilt:

“The old one was fine, Aemond, you shouldn’t have bothered.”

He puts away the tools and, as he’s standing up, he places a kiss on your pajama-covered hip, following it by a peck on your lips:

“I did and I would’ve done it again, sweetheart.”

Aemond goes to his room to put down the tools, and you come along.

“I just don’t want you to waste your money,” you murmur, standing in the doorway.

And then he says without thinking:

“Technically, it’s not mine.”

You look at him confused, and Aemond sighs, pondering for a minute.

You never brought it up but sometimes it does make you wonder why he seems so careless with his finances. You know that he’s got a scholarship (as do you) and he doesn’t tend to throw money around but he also doesn’t count the costs and rarely looks at price tags. You don’t ask him for anything nor do you want to yet the topic looms on the horizon, and you don’t really know what to think of it.

It sounds like Aemond doesn’t like to discuss it so he keeps the story brief: as it turns out, the apartment isn’t the only thing their dad left them. He also set up an account for each of his children to get — as Aemond says, his voice cold and bitter, — “a great deal of money in inheritance”. He doesn’t talk much about his father, either, but from what you’ve gathered Viserys has never been a loving parent so you can’t blame Aemond for the resentment.

“Maybe you should save up that inheritance for something more valuable,” you come closer with a soft smile, cuddling up to him and thinking that’s the end of the conversation.

What you don’t expect is for Aemond to pull out his phone and open the bank’s app to show his account to you. It looks like a phone number, only a couple of digits shorter, and you stare at the screen for a second before it dawns on you.

“O-oh,” you mutter.

His hand clings to your waist but he doesn’t say anything, and the silence feels weird and heavy like a wet coat.

“I rarely withdraw any money from it,” Aemond finally says. “But it comes in handy, like, once or twice a year.”

He wants nothing to do with his father, you realize, but that also explains his attitude toward money. Although he’s far from being spoiled, Aemond still comes from a privileged position, and you try to choose your words wisely before speaking up:

“Well, your refusal to depend on him is admirable but doesn’t it feel... wrong to have that amount of money and do nothing about it?”

Aemond unconsciously tenses up, lowering his gaze to you, an inkling of a frown on his face. You pull away slightly, too wrapped up in your thoughts as the words spill out of your mouth:

“Arya’s been volunteering at a dog shelter and they barely get any donations, she says the dogs are surviving mostly on leftovers brought by the neighbors, can you imagine? Also, I overheard Mr. Harrold complaining that the library roof is rotting and for some reason, the funding does not cover repairs — and, sure, we can just stop going there — but I think if you have the means and if you don’t really care about the money, why not use it to help someone out, you know?”

Aemond’s lack of response makes you turn to him, and you see him staring at you, his face expression unreadable.

“I mean, I’m aware that money doesn’t buy happiness and I’m not your financial advisor, obviously — do you even have one? ‘cause it seems like you should — and I won’t ever talk about it up again if you don’t want to and I don’t mean to overstep and — ”

The words roll off his tongue out of the blue:

“I love you,” Aemond blurts out.

You stop mid-sentence, looking at him in bewilderment, with wide eyes and lips parted, your train of thought completely forgotten. Your heart skips a bit — and then does so again, and you feel short of breath. Aemond doesn’t look away, his lips quirking in a smile as he gently tugs you closer but still leaves some distance as if he’s afraid you’ll want it.

“I love you,” he says again, without a shadow of a doubt. “And I know it may seem too soon, and you don’t have to say it back but I want to. And I want you to tell me anything and everything,” he allows himself a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “And there’s no one I’d rather talk to than you.”

You feel like someone set off firecrackers in your chest and they burst, loud and blazing, and your own smile blossoms. You cup the side of his face, sneaking a kiss against the underside of his jaw.

“I’m so glad you told me,” you whisper as your thumb settles next to his lower lip. “Because now I can say it, too. I love you,” you place a kiss on his cheek, “I love you so much,” — and on another cheek, right on his scar.

And then he catches your lips with his, and you both can’t stop smiling into the kiss, and you think that’s your favorite taste from now on: his laughter in your mouth. And you feel like you’ve never been happier in your entire life.

Aemond sprinkles your face with kisses then, only pausing to ask:

“What’s the name of that dog shelter?”

⋙ He buys way too much dog food — and water bowls and collars — and you help him pick the colors, and it feels kind of like a Christmas morning. The order is delivered in a few days, and you come by his apartment to help sort it out but Aemond greets you with a hand behind his back.

“I have something for you,” he grins mysteriously. “Turn around and close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, curiosity bubbling in your chest, and something thin and cooling glides over the skin around your neck. You open your eyes to look in the mirror but find yourself at a loss for words. It’s a chain, a copy of the one he wears.

“I know you don’t like yellow gold so I thought a white one would be a better option,” he follows the curve of your shoulder with his finger.

“Aemond, this must cost a fortune,” your cheeks suffuse with pink.

“Na-ah, it doesn’t, not even close,” he places a kiss on the side of your neck. “I may be a philanthropist now but it’s only fair that I treat my girlfriend, too,” you catch the reflection of his smile and can’t help but smile back. You also can’t stop yourself from thinking of how to thank him, and an idea pops into your mind.

On the next Friday evening, when Aemond returns from his training session, he’s surprised to see a soft light coming from his room. He walks in — and then freezes in place, speechless: you are laying in his bed completely naked, batting your lashes at him and biting down on the white gold chain that glitters on your flushed lips.

“I think this gift calls for celebration,” you purr. “But you seem overdressed for the occasion.”

Luckily, he can remove his clothes at the speed of light.

Hours later, you’re laying in his bed, your body sweaty, aching and intertwined with his, and the first light of dawn is seeping through the curtains. Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, your fingers vine through his hair, and he runs his hand from the cleft of your breasts up to your chain, the warmed-up metal bright against your skin.

“This was my best investment ever,” he drawls with a tired smile.

And you can’t agree more.

• shamelessly inspired by the quote “Don’t ask her to moan, make her” • this is only the second time I wrote smut so please be nice? something tells me I will write more ehehe • there will be part 3 BUT it may take a while ‘cause I want to think it through. also, I’m trying my best to keep the chapters relatively short around 6-7k so there’s a chance I’ll write more than one part • I plan on including interactions with his family / some vacation time / moving in together — but maybe there’s something else you want to read about? don’t hesitate to tell me!

as usual, comments are VERY appreciated 🥺 (opinions? asks? PLS just talk to me)

tagging everyone who’s ever asked: @greenowlfactiffif, @kyuupidwrites, @pearlstiare, @i-killed-ramsey, @bellaisasleep

✨ my recent fic: “My first choice” (she’s Aegon’s bestie, inspired by “Little women”) 🔥 the first smut I wrote: “The object of my desire” (~6500 words, inspired by the famous scene from Bridgerton S2) 💌 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #I JUST WANT IT TO SHOW IN THE TAGS DAMN IT #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond modern au #hotd modern au #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut

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urdepressedslut · 11 months

Text

Stray ❝part six❞

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You run into someone from the past, no way this can be real? Bucky finds you in distress, and is there to comfort you.

♡ Warnings: dark themes, angst, abuse, nightmares, fluff, language

Part 7

After sitting on the porch steps until the sun went down, you headed inside without another word to Bucky. Desperately needing your brain to shut off, no more thinking.

But you were never that lucky.

You stayed curled up on your bed, having a staring contest with the ceiling until your body didn’t have the strength to keep your eyes open anymore. You wish it didn’t have to be so difficult, but you didn’t complain, and welcomed the darkness.

For the first time, your mind wasn’t wandering, wasn’t latching onto horrifying memories to drown itself in. Instead, you found nothing, like a blank page in a notebook. Nothing pulled your focus, only the never ending emptiness. Although unsettling, you welcomed the view immediately.

Until a loud scream from downstairs frazzled you from your thoughtless sleep.

Sitting up in bed, your body felt tingly, skin erupting in goosebumps in fear. It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake in the middle of the night. The strange, eerie noises weren’t new to you either, but something about the way that scream sounded, it had been too clear.

In nothing but your silk nightgown, you padded down the stairs, in random curiosity. You should’ve been more scared, but perhaps this was becoming your normal.

The house was dark, and deadly silent. Only the sound of the creaking steps could be heard.

“(Y/n)…”

A voice whispered from downstairs, making you clench your fists anxiously, forcing yourself to swallow through the tightness of your throat.

You couldn’t distinguish the voice, it didn’t sound like Bucky. The thought of someone breaking into the house added more panic, and you couldn’t help your mind to wonder first…

Was Bucky okay?

Making it all the way down the stairs, you were met with darkness, the house looking vacant. Bucky was nowhere to be seen, his makeshift bed on the living room couch, gone.

“Bucky?” You whispered out, hoping he was around somewhere.

Your chest suddenly ached, the familiar burn returning in your nose. The thought worked it’s way to the front of your mind.

Did he leave me?

You couldn’t help the tears that trailed down your cheeks, the betrayal physically trying to rip your heart from your chest. Soon you were quietly sobbing, gripping the couch cushions from behind, occasionally clenching your eyes shut, opening them in hopes he’d appear. The threat of an intruder was forgotten, the aching pain of being abandoned consuming you.

“Sweetie?”

The horrifyingly familiar voice spoke from behind you, your whole body freezing, limbs stiff in disbelief. With a tear stained face, you turned slowly, your fear blown orbs meeting with a pair of eyes you thought you’d never see again.

“M-mommy?” You gasped out, the name sour rolling off your tongue.

Mother’s eyes held warmth, tenderness. Her smile was inviting and infectious, but you knew better. She outstretched her arms, opening them, silently inviting you to her embrace. You couldn’t help the flinch when she had moved her arms, remembering her touch too well.

Mother’s happy facade slipped the slightest bit, falling back into a fake smile when she caught your flinch.

“Come here daughter.” She cooed, her voice smooth like honey, mocking the warmth a true Mother would have.

Your feet were frozen in place, body shaking slightly in panic. She couldn’t be back, no.

“This isn’t real.” You muttered to yourself, digging your fingernails into your palm, cutting the delicate skin in attempt to wake from this nightmare.

“Oh honey… It’s very real. I’m real. I’m not dead.” She told you genuinely.

Tears unknowingly began to fall from your eyes again, overwhelmed with the image of your Mother standing before you.

“Yo- you’re d-dead.,” You mumbled to yourself, You’re dead.” You continued to repeat, hoping that you’d somehow believe yourself.

“That’s all you want you little bitch! Wishing I was dead! You’re a waste of space you fucking demon!” Mother spat venomously, the false warmth and comfort gone like it had never existed.

Flinching back from her words, you couldn’t help but be ashamed at the normalcy of it all. This was your normal, or it used to be that is.

“Not real… You’re not real.” You repeated, heart pounding, your ears ringing in alert.

Your mumbling only made her angrier, though she hadn’t made a move towards you yet, the suspense of when she’d pounce was killing you.

“You’ll see soon enough how real I am… When I’m cutting off your chest while you’re still awake! Then you’ll see how real I fucking am!” Mother screamed, her threat chilling, bile collecting in your throat.

“No…” You whimpered out, ”You’re not—”

“You finish that and I will shatter your fucking spine, you hear me?” Mother warned, taking slow steps towards you.

Feeling the bile threatening to shoot up, you keep your lips sealed. Trembling, tears painting your cheeks, neck and chest.

“I just wanted to see my daughter,” She spoke softly suddenly, “But I can see you’ve been bad. You know what has to happen, right honey?”

A sob escaped your lips, the scars littering your back aching from just the thought of what was to come.

“Now, turn around. Take your dress off.” She demanded.

Almost instinctively, you had turned around with swaying steps, sliding your gown off, and kneeled to the floor. The tears were trailing faster down your cheeks now, in defeat. The sound of her whip was much like an old friend, familiar. You had been in this position many, many times.

Except before, you didn’t know of Bucky. Now as you prepared to count your slashes, you let your mind wander to Bucky. In a way, you felt comforted, despite him leaving you. The warmth you felt in your chest when you thought of him could not be avoided.

“Stupid girl.” Mother hissed, before letting her whip fly. The last thing you felt, was the agonizing burn on your back, before everything went black.

Bucky was staring into the wall, in hopes his brain would eventually shut off. His mind was everywhere, paranoia mixed with restlessness. Joy mixed with confusion. And then there was you.

He fought to keep himself from drowning in the sea that was you. He couldn’t help but feel some sort of attachment to you. You cared for him at his worst, even after getting to know him little, you offered your home. You were sweet and gentle, only ever doing what would make him comfortable, happy. You actually saw him as a person.

He didn’t know how long you’d let him stay until you got annoyed of his presence. But he’d stay as long as you allowed him to, until you sent him away. Even then, he’d want to stay. But if you told him to go, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He felt like he owed his entire life to you.

A startling thud against the window had him jumping from his spot, standing up defensively. His heartbeat was threatening to burst out of his chest, his pupils blown in fear. Afraid that they finally found him.

With cautious steps, he made his way to the window, the one that now had a small crack in it. With furrowed brows, and was going to head outside to investigate further.

Until he heard you screaming from upstairs.

Immediately, adrenaline was pumping through his veins. His body on high alert because you were in distress. Without hesitation, he forgot about the thud against the window, sprinting up the stairs.

Your screams were getting louder the closer he got to your room, which he’d never been in. Now that he was close to your door, he could hear the pure terror and desperation in your screams, causing his heart to ache.

Deciding that now wasn’t the time to be polite, he swung the door open, only to physically feel his heart break at the sight in front of him.

You were on the floor in front of your bed, nightgown pooling around you, leaving you bare. Thrashing around, with your eyes clenched shut, you were holding onto the edge of the bed frame, exposing your scarred back to him.

Bucky quickly sensed that you were having a nightmare, and without thinking, he ran to you, squatting down to your level.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)?!” Bucky spoke desperately, letting his hands cradle your face, attempting to wipe away the tears.

“It’s just a nightmare! I’m here with you!” He spoke loudly, listening to your screams die down, while your sobbing quieted.

Suddenly, you opened your eyes with a pained gasp, eyes wide, pupils blown in panic. You looked around in paranoia, the nightmare still fresh on your mind.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Bucky told you softly, his gentle voice soothing you.

Your eyes locked on his and you felt your entire body relax, despite being so vulnerable, nude in front of him. You wanted nothing more than to feel safe and protected in his arms.

“Bucky…” You whimpered, voice hoarse and desperate.

Bucky’s eyes softened at your weak voice, his hands releasing your face, hovering by his sides.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. Nothing is gonna hurt you.” He told you genuinely, his voice quiet and gentle, making sure he didn’t scare you.

Without another thought, you launched yourself in his arms. Burying yourself into his chest, snuggling your face in the crook of his neck. You kept your arms cradled to your chest, attempting to mold yourself into him.

Bucky’s eyes widened at your sudden movements, his body freezing up at the feel of your body so tightly snug against his. He could feel your body trembling, he could feel your erratic breath, warm against his neck.

You felt his body go rigid from your touch, and immediately you felt guilty. You knew he didn’t like to be touched, but you desperately needed a comforting hold. You needed his touch.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s rigid body was only because he was so shocked. The feeling of your body finally pressed against him. The warmth melting into his skin from yours. Your skin feeling as soft as he had imagined it would be. He couldn’t believe he’d been near you for months, without being able to feel your gentle touch. Now that he’s gotten a taste, he didn’t want to go without it. He was starved of touch, and you were suddenly filling the void.

Snapping out of his shock, he let his palms gently touch your textured back, feeling you lean into his touch immediately. He slowly pulled you tighter against him, fully wrapping his arms around you, caging you in his protective embrace.

You sighed into his neck, feeling his arms curl around you just how you needed them to be.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, (Y/n).” Bucky whispered, internally promising to be your protector.

This time, tears of relief and happiness started to run from your eyes. The moisture rubbing against his neck, only making him hold you tighter. You had never felt so protected, in his arms you felt invincible.

You tried to speak, but couldn’t find the energy to move your mouth. Your entire body exhausted. Instead, you shifted slightly, snuggling comfortably in his arms, letting your eyes shut.

You were quickly falling into a peaceful slumber, knowing you had someone to protect you while you were away.

Bucky’s heart swelled at your fragile, curled up form in his lap. Moving himself slowly, he leaned back up against the bed, holding you in his arms.

And before you were completely out, you heard the faintest whisper.

“My guardian angel.”

A/N: omg they touched 🥹 pls let me know if you’re missing from the taglist, and i’ll add you! how’d you like this part?? love feedback! 🤍

TAGLIST: @tortilla-maria1 @lizslibrary @sebastians-love @xiaosluvr @navs-bhat @ragingrainbowshipl @delicatecapnerd @buckybarnesandmarvel @viperchick47 @hunitweet @vixi-3303 @buckyb-stan @happinessinthebeing @mirtaqueen

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jamminlocks · 11 months

Text

Special Pudding {Osamu M. x Reader}

Tags: F/M, Food, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Miya Osamu, confession, one shot, not beta read, pretty much idiots in love word count: 2,987 Summary: In summer days, you decided to make chocolate pudding for yourself. Not really trying to hide it. By chance, Osamu spots you eating some. The moment he had that first spoonful in his mouth, Osamu has liked your chocolate pudding since and from then on wants more. A/N: idk i just wrote this for fun edit: fixed some stuff [ao3]

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"Is that pudding?" Osamu asks, pointing at the moist container in your hands. It is, indeed, pudding. Not just any pudding, not pudding that's bought in the store, or something your parents made, It is your pudding, chocolate pudding. In the past weeks, you have been obsessively trying your hand in making some for yourself, mostly to stave off the summer heat. After many attempts, this was the best one. For a split second, you hesitated answering him, not wanting to share your hard earned work. Then, the thought of wow-ing Osamu with your new found specialty dessert pops up.

"Yeah, I made it. You want some?" You offer it to him. He stares at it, undecided and unimpressed.

"I dunno... it looks kinda bad."

"Oh c'mon! Since when did you pass the offering of free food?" you argue, scooping a spoon of the pudding and holding it up for Osamu. He suspiciously looks at you, more to just get an annoyed reaction. The spoon is taken from your hand and he slides it in his mouth. Once the spoon is gone, his jaw moves in a steady motion. Eyes close, focusing on the tastes. A small smile creeps on each corner of his mouth.

“See? I made good pudding.”

"Free food? More like a free sample if you're just gonna let me have one spoon." he digs the spoon into the pudding. Now, you are annoyed, "just a second ago you basically called it weird looking."

"And I'm coming back for another bite. Take it as a compliment."

You roll your eyes. "Fine, you can have more, here."

He also holds of the container of pudding, not tugging it away from you, taking one spoon after another. It's the first time you let Osamu eat anything you made and you are very, very glad that he likes it. Happy as you are, the pudding is already half empty and you've barely dug in yourself. Osamu is using your spoon after all.

"Hurry up! I wanna eat"

A muffled sound of reluctant agreement slips out of hus mouth, but he takes another spoonful before he returns it to you.

“Got anymore?”

“Last one. Sorry”

Osamu frowns as he watches you eat, like a child denied a cone of ice cream. It's clear that he'll be waiting for you to get enough then get some more again. You couldn't laugh properly, only chuckling with your mouth stuffed and closed. “Next time, when I make one I’ll save some for you.”

"Yeah?"

"Sure, why not?"

-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-

As you spend more time experimenting and trying new recipes of desserts, you keep coming back to the chocolate pudding, youre practically perfecting it. Osamu always wants some when you tell him. A tupperware of pudding would be saved for him and you'd give it to him. He'd return it by the end of the week. The fastest was the day after you gave it to him. You often wondered if he even shares it with Atsumu and you hoped he did. Nothing wrong with someone else enjoying your food. That was until the blond twin ran up to you out of nowhere with furious determination.

"WHY DIDN'T CHA TELL ME THAT YER GIVING 'SAMU PUDDING??" he asked accusingly. Somewhat offended.

You squint, "wait, doesn't he share with you?"

"NO! He's been hiding it behind other stuff in the–"

"THAT'S 'CAUSE YA ALWAYS STEAL THE STUFF I BUY AND EAT THE FIRST THING YA SEE IN THE REFRIGERATOR!!" Osamu comes running up behind his brother. Roping him into light wrestling.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE," Atsumu claims but his voice falters with each movement.

"LIER!!! STOP BOTHERING HER ‘BOUT THIS!” The fight goes on. It's relatively tame compared to their other fights. You aren’t too worried about anything getting serious. Backing up a little to avoid any elbows and fist coming your way, you patiently wait for the brothers to cool down on their own.

“YOUR A GREEDY LITTLE SHIT THAT EATS FOOD THAT AIN’T YERS!”

"SAYS THE BASTARD WHO’S BEEN HOGGING AN ENTIRE CONTAINER OF PUDDING ALL TO YERSELF!"

But it seems the two are nowhere stopping from this. There is too much destructive energy emanating from them. You made a gable on your safety by placing a hand on each brother’s shoulder then pushing them apart.

"OKAY! OKAY! THE BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" they hesitantly stop, still scowling and sneering at each other with their eyes.

“Would you both quit it if I just made you two then? One for each of you.”

They are silent, more to give the other a cold shoulder than not having an answer. Atsumu pouts, crossing his arms, “sure. But I still can’t believe you were only giving him this entire time.”

“Well, sorry about that.” you said, actually feeling bad about leaving him out of it.

“Don’t. He’s a big pig”

“WHY YA LIL-”

You give them a harsh slap on their shoulders.

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On the occasions that the twins know you were making your chocolate pudding, you save two tupperwares for them. It was extra work but if it’ll keep them from complaining, that's extra peace of mind in your life. You are quite delighted that Atsumu enjoys it too. But, if you aren't assuming too much, Osamu seems to like it more. You aren’t surprised. Twins still have their own separate set of preferences. It's just that Osamu liking it more always makes your chest flutter. It’s embarrassing, you’d rather he not notice when you try to hold back a big smile.

Eventually, you began to grow tired of the sweet dessert and decided to stop for a while. You still loved it, but having too much too often wears off its specialness. It wasn’t really a big deal, that was until Osamu out of nowhere leaned his chin over your shoulder, arms around your waist, and asked, "Hey, when are ya gonna make chocolate pudding again?"

It confuses you, not really considering that he would notice that you’ve stopped. You put some thought into it. Will you make it? Not really in a mood for pudding, although you don’t mind if Osamu is asking. “It's almost winter and you still want some?”

“I mean, can I?” he said, uncharacteristically shy of him. It's kinda cute. But, you're not letting yourself be fooled if this is his way of persuading you. "You're gonna pay for half of the ingredients if you want me to make some.”

In an instant, he straightens up. Swirling you to face him and he looks at you with at most seriousness. “How much?”

You laugh, ruffling up hus gray hair for fun. "Come with me later to buy them. We can sort it out then”

His eyes practically glowed at your answers. And he does go with you to the market the day after, carrying the basket of ingredients as you pick and choose.

“Do ya really need this much when ya make yer pudding?”

“Yeah, I’m making it for Atsumu too.” The smile on his face disappears at the mention of his brother. He must really not like sharing his food with Atsumu. But its not like he needs to. After all, they get their own. He said, much like suggesting a bad idea he knows you'll deny, “Can you, like, not?”

“Don’t be like that. You two will fight again.”

Osamu knows you had a point. Still, he isn’t on board with it, glaring at the floor. The part of your heart that has a soft spot for the mellower twin weavers. “How about this, you get more cream on top than him. Sounds good?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I can do that. It will cost you more though”

His arm wraps around your shoulder as you two walk through the milk aisle together, holding the basket on the other hand. “Fine by me.”

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For the next few years, your chocolate pudding has been in his top 20 in the desserts category, which means a lot since the guy can't seem to choose a single favorite food if anyone were to ask him. When the opportunity opens itself, he asks you to make some. Despite your differing schedules, very often, if not all the time, you do follow through. When you can't, he gets sad, which is adorable of him.

So, it's practically a given whenever you visit, there's a chance you have some with you. However, not once has he ever questioned why you do it without asking anything in exchange. The answer is always that it's not like it's an official service of yours. It was enough that he paid more than half the price. Plus, he is your friend, nothing wrong with doing favors for a friend. Though all of that is true, you just like how happy and satisfied he is with your pudding every time he takes a bite. And, well, you just really like Osamu and spending time with him.

This time around, the occasion is MSBY Jackals having a match in Hyogo. In celebration that Atsumu is in town, the team will have dinner in Onigiri Miya. At Atsumu’s request, you bring your chocolate pudding and he’s paying for it. Lucky for him, you are free that week. Osamu, on the other hand, took the chance to ask for more.g

"Could you make me extra pudding too?" He asks while you are on a call with him and it makes you laugh. "You missed my chocolate pudding that much?"

"It's hard not to miss good food" he states.

Out right implying that your dessert is one of his many likes is a sentiment you'll hold on to. You endearingly sigh to him through your phone. "Alright. That does mean you'll pay for your portion."

"Alright," he said, satisfied. Static sounds of clanking blurs his voice. "Don't tell 'Tsumu, by the way."

"Sure. But, don't get mad at me if he finds out, though."

"Never had been, have I?"

"That's true."

-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-

The celebration comes and by the end of the night the chocolate pudding was as good as gone. A hit among the players. Their captain took three servings, so does Bokuto. When you offer one to their aloof member, Sakusa, it takes a bit of convincing. In the end, he eats some, giving you a mere 'its good', which is a big deal according to Atsumu. Hinata was lucky to get the last serving. You didn't even get a bite of your efforts, so it was a good thing that Osamu requested more. As promised, you didn't tell Atsumu of the extra stash of pudding you and Osamu hid. Once the restaurant closes and Atsumu is long gone with the rest of his team, you and Osamu head back to his place to eat the hidden treasure to end the night..

Fresh from the cool fridge, you both take your own servings of the chocolatey treat. Osamu is as happy as ever with each spoon of pudding he places in his mouth.

"didn't you eat a lot of this already? I'm surprised you could stuff yourself more with that," you point your spoon to him.

"Nothing wrong with extra dessert"

"You sure you won't get your stomach hurting?"

He laughs, a low rumble on his chest. "What am I, a kid?" Osamu doesn't give you the chance to answer, shifting his attention to the dessert at his hands, reveling at its taste.

"I might just kiss you for how good these puddings always are."

"Haha, sure," you say. Not fully registering what he just said, what you just said. Once it settles in, your skin spikes up into a panic, doing your best to not look at him and shoving a spoon in your mouth. Why did you say that? Why did he say that? That was definitely a joke.

"For real? I can?" He asks, clear and genuine.

The sirens are wailing at you to 'play it cool'. It's just a teeny-tiny kiss. You've had friends kiss your cheeks before. Osamu won't be any different. You may like him but he is still your friend too.

"Yeeeeeeahhh. Suuuuuuure," voice slightly stilted, waving a hand to downplay the situation. Just you merely entertaining the notion. In the grand tapestry that is your friendship, it's just a small thing that won't cause an unraveling. You close your eyes. No way you are looking at him. Placing a finger over your cheek, you say, "right over he-"

Osamu pecks you right on the lips. Your body stiffen up. The stickiness of the small bit of cream lingers. Without much of a big reaction from him, he says "Thank you for the pudding" and returns to focus on staring down on the pudding to scoop another spoonful.

"wah- why'd you do that" you ask, breathless from a single peck that barely lasted a second.

"Ya said I can, didn't ya?"

"ye. YEAH. BUT-" you're at a loss for words. everything is mixing up at a blender's speed. Confusion. Giddiness. Flabbergasted. Embarrassment. And you're quaking like a blender too. The only thing that's keeping you from losing sanity is Osamu's slowly blushing cheeks, proof that he is affected by it too. How is he so nonchalant about this, though? You place the serving of pudding over the kitchen table to save it from your slipping grip.

Taking another spoon of pudding in his mouth. He hums the way he always does when he likes the food he is eating. You could only stare, still confused. "This is so good," his words slightly garbled. Osamu turns to you, assessing your expression. Then, he dives back to kiss again before you can do anything. Just as quick as the first, like he is testing your lips. The softness of his gesture somewhat tickles you. “Really good.”

“Hey!” you try to catch his attention. “Why’d you– how are you–” words come out as blubbering and disjointed. Face heating up with each tumble your tongue takes. You don’t understand how unfazed he is right now, having just kissed you twice. Is it not a big deal to him? Is he toying with you? The initial startling fades as your mind ponders the sad possibility. Osamu is quick to notice your silence, setting his pudding down beside yours.

“Oh, are ya mad?” He said with sincere concern, bumping his arms to you as a means to comfort. What exactly do you say to him? Should you get mad? You sigh,

“I’m– It’s because– Are you just messing with me, Osamu?”

“A lil bit.” he admits, though not seeing it as big of a crime as you do.

“It's just ‘cause ya said I can, so I…” He strays, placing his rough hand at the swell of your cheek, bringing you to face him. You can see that he’s searching for his words too. Thumb brushing you with a new warmth he has never done before. “And I’ve really wanted to do that for a while now.”

Not able to wrap your head around his confession, doubt lumped up in your voice, you ask “you have?”

Osamu removes his hand away from your cheek. Straightening himself up to face you. He takes your hand, cupping it between both of his own, as if giving you a secret you can’t see just yet. Gentleness in his eyes with a tender smile. He shares his truth. "I like ya for a long while now.”

It's a sweet and honest truth. It all bubbles up into you breathily laughing, leaning your head on his shoulder as he keeps you balanced. The scent of rice still clings to his black uniform. He hums along with you.

You say, "couldn't you have said that first?"

"uh," he laughs softly. "Sorry. Guess I got too excited." The tension in the kitchen dissipates with each laugh. Osamu takes your pudding from the table, scooping in it with his spoon. You are still at the height of his confession to point out that it's your pudding he is about to eat from. He raised the spoon to your mouth.

"Eat up. to calm ya nerves a bit."

You can only oblige. The sweetness is soothing, cleansing away any remaining nervousness you had. Osamu is careful to slide it off your lips before digging it in your pudding again.

“Atta girl,” he purrs, brushing your hair behind your ear as you slowly chew. It's new, this kind of affection coming from him, but you welcome it nonetheless.

You have something to say before he leans in again. "WAI-" is all you could muster as his lips are on yours for the third time, a little longer, a lot firmer. Fingers on your chin. He eases you into a slow kiss. Three kisses and an indirect one. He really is taking his shots.

When you pull away, you lightly burst out “seriously??”

Osamu chuckles, pulling away to take both puddings on each hand and handing yours to you. “Sorry, you taste good too,” he said. This time placing a peck on your cheek.

"C'mon, finish it up before it melts."

The two of you eat together in comfortable silence. A new feeling lingers in the air. A sense of rose tranquility. You could get used to this.

“So,” you start, taking another bite. “What do we do now?” Osamu inches closer to your side, enjoying this new kind of company from you.

“Am I yours?”

You pretend to ponder, just to draw out your answer.

“I guess so.”

“Is that a yes?”

You take your chance to place a kiss on his cheek. This time, He’s the one caught off guard, smiling at you as he wipes the small bit of stickiness off.

“Yeah,” you said.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, Osamu places a hand on your hip to pull you closer to him.

“Stay over for tonight, why don’t ya?”

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A/N: i'll edit this in a little bit

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya #osamu fluff #just cute stuff

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hollybell51 · 1 year

Text

Gentleman

Navigation

Sam Winchester x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s03e02 “bloodlust”

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: you and Sam don't exactly see eye to eye with Dean's new friend, so you return to the motel by yourselves. Things... escalate.

Content: smutty smut smut! Shameless, loving, gentle porn with a bit of a plot. Tooth rotting sappiness and fluff. Bit of hurt/comfort, bit of angst. Reader is just so in love with Sam (I am too dw). Sam is down horrendously bad for the reader (I'm horrendously down bad for him. I cannot emphasise this enough). Use of (Y/N), but not too much. Hickeys, making out, extremely light switchiness (barely noticeable, just healthily flexible dynamics), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, safe sex, vaginal sex. Hugs all round (someone needed to give these boys one), Dean and the reader get along, Dean has like one soft moment, there's quite a bit of reminiscing and stuff. Gordon's vibes are Off. As above, set during season 2 episode 3.

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I'm (kinda) back, and my summaries have not gotten any better! Started watching Supernatural and got brainrot. Got lots of stuff planned but probably won't actually write it (sorry). The things I would let these two men do to me is insane like actually insane besties I am not ok. Anyways enjoy the by-product of my suffering, consider this a peace offering as I worm my way into the Supernatural fandom.

Also I have been working sporadically on some requests so if you made one chances are I've seen it and I have started it, but also I have Things in my Life right now that are very Stressful so yeah that's fun but yknow it is what it is, thanks everyone for being so supportive and patient with me xx

To say you were uncomfortable would have been an understatement. It wasn’t just how easily Gordon was talking about what had happened, or the too-bright light in his eyes as he recounted it, or Dean’s ease with the whole thing. It had been a freaking execution! And sure, the guy was a vampire, but the way the saw had just chewed right through his neck, the kicking of his legs as he’d died, the blood spraying over Dean’s face… yeah. As Sam had put it, decapitations weren’t really your idea of a good time. And it certainly wasn’t something you felt like laughing about over drinks.

You could see Sam’s leg bouncing slightly, his face blank as he stared at the beer he was nursing. Your own stomach twisted with unease. Chances were, if he was on edge, so were you. The emotional interplay wasn’t new, and in fact, Dean gave you endless shit about it. “I don’t know what’s up with you,” he’d say. “I just gotta thank God I don’t develop some freaky emotional feedback loop with every girl I bang.”

Now, Sam glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. You screwed up your nose. Not enough to be too noticeable, but enough to let him know you thought something was a bit off too. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

“What’s up with you two?” Dean asked, frowning at your practically untouched beer.

You shrugged. Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of his drink before turning to his new friend. “I swear,” he said, “they read each others' minds. He’s grumpy, she’s grumpy. She’s happy, he’s happy. I reckon if she stubbed her toe, he’d be limping.”

Gordon barked a laugh, raising his eyebrows. “That so?”

“Dean, come off it,” you sighed.

He shook his head, smiling. “Lighten up, both of you.”

You opened your mouth to say something about how you didn’t think lightening up was really appropriate given the circumstances, but the scraping of Sam’s chair cut you off.

“I’m not gonna bring you guys down,” he said. “I’m just gonna go back to the motel.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as he glanced at you, “I’m a bit tired.”

Dean frowned. “You sure?”

You nodded, standing.

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Seeya.”

“Seeya,” you smiled tightly, then passed him your unfinished beer. “You want this?”

“You’re not taking it?”

You shook your head. “Not in a beer sort of mood.”

He gave you a searching look, then shrugged again and took the drink. “Sure.”

“Thanks, Gordon.” You nodded to the other hunter. As much as you felt off about him, you didn’t need to be rude.

He inclined his head back to you. “My pleasure.”

Sam’s hand settled on your back as you joined him by the door, and you cast a final glance back at the two men remaining at the table.

“Sammy!” Dean called, the car keys jingling in his hand as he tossed them to his brother. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, alright?”

Sam caught them with ease, Gordon’s enquiry of “something I said?” chasing you out the door. Hell yeah, it was something he said. It was everything he said.

“Jesus,” you grumbled, shivering in the cold air.

Sam snorted, absently shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Equally thoughtlessly, you put it on. It had become something of a routine. Sam didn’t exactly get too cold very often, but you did. He was many things, and “gentleman” was pretty high on the list by you reckoning.

“I don’t know about all of this,” he said, feet crunching on the gravel as he headed towards the car. “Something’s…”

“Off, yeah.” You swung into the passenger seat, arms crossed firmly over your chest.

“I can’t quite–” The engine cut him off for a moment, but he didn’t finish the sentence anyway. It didn’t matter.

“I know, it’s a brain itch.”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Seatbelt,” he added as the car rolled out of the parking lot, another habit between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d have been dead years ago if you hadn’t had someone reminding you to use the damn things, a fact that both Winchester brothers were not afraid to attempt to drill into you. They hadn’t had much success.

You hummed as you clicked the strap across your body, shrinking further down into the seat. You were feeling better now that you weren’t sitting across from Gordon, now that it was just you and Sam. You loved Dean, of course you did, but Sam was just so easy to be around. The two of you clicked, simple as that, and you adored it.

“I’m gonna call Ellen,” Sam said decisively, frowning at the road. “Maybe she knows him.”

You nodded. “Mhm, good idea.”

You were still humming – the melody from something that had been playing on the drive that day, you thought – as you entered the motel room, gulping down a glass of water before jumping onto the kitchen counter. Your heels made a dull thud, thud, thud, on the cupboards as you swung them, the zipper of Sam’s jacket swishing over the cheap vinyl. You watched him take a seat on the bed and dial Ellen.

You listened idly to his side of the conversation, eventually sliding off the counter top and coming to sit behind him on the bed. You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing. It had been an oddly long day.

“But I thought you said he was a good hunter,” he was frowning.

You thought you heard her say “Hannibal Lecter”, and frowned too. Shit, was Gordon some kind of serial killer? You hoped not.

Sam’s back was warm under your cheek, but his shoulders were tense. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy. You hadn’t known John Winchester well, but the time you’d spent with him had been… Well, it hadn’t been nice exactly, but you could see the love he had for his sons. You couldn’t imagine going through what Sam had, almost losing his brother and then really losing his father in the space of a week. You thought he was handling everything reasonably well, all things considered.

There’d been one moment, just a few days ago, when you’d thought he might crack. Dean had been out like a light in the back of the car, and you’d reached around to snap a photo of him squished up against the window. You’d laughed at it – he looked ridiculous. When you’d glanced up to show Sam, he was staring straight at the road, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Alright?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded.

You’d frowned. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

This time, a head shake.

He wasn’t alright, you could see that clear as day. “Sam, pull over,” you said softly.

He’d swung the car off the road so abruptly you’d jerked against your seatbelt, simply sitting with his foot on the brake and both hands on the steering wheel.

You’d reached over and put the car in park, switching off the ignition. “Come on,” you’d said, “out.”

He’d leant against the side of the car, arms crossed, staring out into the field you were driving past.

“Interesting grass?” you’d asked, bumping your shoulder against his.

He hadn’t smiled exactly, but his mouth had definitely twitched up a bit at the corner. You’d consider that a win.

“Seriously,” you’d prodded. “What’s up?”

“I don’t…” He’d trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “I can’t…”

You’d frowned as he’d shaken his head, looking anywhere but you. You’d told yourself something like this was gonna happen eventually, prepped the whole “I’m here no matter what” speech a thousand times, but now you didn’t really know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to put your hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles like your kindergarten teacher used to do when you were upset.

Sam’s voice was choked when he finally spoke. “I can’t lose you.”

Four words, but you were convinced your heart had shattered right there.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, stepping to face him. You took his hands in yours, uncrossing his arms.

“How can you–?”

You cut him off, shaking your head as you raised his hands to your face and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated. “Nowhere you can’t follow.”

He’d just nodded, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed deeply, the strong smell of the most recent laundromat’s detergent all around you, your fingers bunched in the back of Sam’s shirt.

“I’ve got your back,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ve got yours, too.”

“Good.” You’d pulled away, smiling as you stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, but that was all either of you needed.

Then Dean had woken up and shouted at you to save your “romantic moments” for when you weren’t supposed to be driving. You’d grumbled that he was just jealous, which he’d vehemently denied amongst a lot of vomit noises. But later, as you’d waited for Sam to get back with lunch, he’d put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side.

“I’m glad he’s got you,” he’d said. “Real glad.”

“You’ve got me too,” you’d smiled. “Always.”

He’d just stared at you for a moment, his arm still around you, before he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thanks,” he’d muttered. “‘ppreciate it.”

Now, with the same softness, you let your hand slide up Sam’s back and across his shoulders, then down his side. You brushed over his chest, down to his stomach, then back up to settle over his heart. You always forgot how big he was until you tried to get your arms around him, then it was like hugging a mountain. You loved it.

He cleared his throat.

You smiled, placing a soft kiss where his hair brushed the back of his neck, using your free hand to sweep it away.

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said to Ellen. He sighed as your lips trailed higher, up under his ear.

“Mhm, we will.” His fingers curled in the bed covers as you sucked ever so gently at the spot you’d found, the one you knew drove him insane.

“Yep, alright. Thanks, Ellen.” A forceful swallow as you rubbed slow patterns across his front, nothing but the thin material of his shirt separating your hand from his skin.

“Ok. Bye.”

You smiled as the phone beeped, then was thrown to the bed. You eased your hand under his shirt, shivering as your fingers met the warm expanse of his torso. You could touch him like this forever, if you were given the chance.

“What’re you doing?” he breathed, tilting his head back, baring his throat.

“Kissing you,” you whispered as you moved down the muscle of his neck, “touching you,” as your hand ran gently over his pectoral, thumb grazing his nipple.

“Mm, do I get to kiss you too?”

You smiled. “If you ask nicely, yeah.”

“Please?”

“Hm?”

He sighed. “(Y/N), come on.”

“Nope,” you laughed softly. “Ask nicely.”

You felt his chest heave under your hand, and you pressed your mouth to his neck again.

“Pretty please,” he murmured.

You pretended to be considering this for a moment, dragging it out. Truth be told, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as he wanted to, but God it was fun teasing a bit. Especially like this, when it was you draped over his back, hinting at giving him hickeys, touching wherever you pleased.

“Go ahead,” you replied.

Before you could even draw another breath he’d turned and brought his hand up to cup your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let him lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding languidly alongside your own, the faint taste of beer still clinging to him. It was all so soft and gentle and full of care, everything you adored about him.

He shifted back on the bed, turning to face you. Your hands were still under his shirt, arm still stretched across his body as he pushed against you.

“I love this on you,” he murmured as his hands found the opening of his jacket, pushing it back over your shoulders.

You smiled. “You want me to take it off?”

“And this.” He plucked at the t-shirt you wore underneath, already coaxing it upwards.

“Alright,” you laughed, batting his hands away. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Whoever said that clearly never met you.”

You looked away, hoping to hide the pink you could feel flooding your cheeks. However many times you did this, Sam never failed to get you flustered. You could sense his eyes on you as you stripped yourself of your shirt and his jacket, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

He started to shuffle back further onto the bed, one hand settling on your waist as he leant down to kiss along your jaw. You sighed, your mind halfway made up to just let him keep going like that. But no.

“Uh-uh,” you said, pushing him gently off you.

“What do you–? Oh.”

You smiled as you slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. You ran your hand up his thigh, deftly undoing his belt and fly. Heck, you’d had practice. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “God, yes.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing to his pants. “Well you gotta help me out a bit, yeah?”

“Sorry,” he grinned, shedding them in one smooth motion.

“And those.” You pointed at his underwear.

“Yes, your highness.”

“Damn right,” you muttered as you kissed your way up his thigh, nipping gently at the skin of his hip. He smelled of the soap from last night’s motel room, faint but still there, a little sweat from the night’s earlier action. You could taste it where your tongue touched him, and man was it good.

His voice was breathy when he asked, “You gonna keep teasing me forever?”

“Maybe.” You watched as goosebumps appeared where your breath tickled him, smiling to yourself.

“Is that what’s got you smiling like that?”

You sat back on your heels, arms resting on his knees as you looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, the shitty neon lighting of the room glancing off his hair in a kind of halo. You thought your next words through very carefully.

“No,” you said slowly. “I’m thinking about how your cock’s gonna feel in my mouth. How you’re gonna say my name when I’ve got you so deep down my throat I’m almost gagging. I bet you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Sam’s mouth fell open, his hands twitching where they rested on the duvet.

“What do you think?”

He swallowed. “I think I’m not even gonna take you up on that bet, I think you’re right.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok then.” You smiled, leaning forward and taking his dick in your hands. It was hard and warm to the touch, already leaking precum. You licked down, then up again, swirling your tongue around the head.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, (Y/N).”

“You want me to suck it?”

“Yes. Please.”

You shrugged. “Since you asked so nicely.” You sank your mouth down onto him, your hands working what wouldn’t fit. Sam’s thighs tensed, and you moved. You could have stayed like that forever, you thought, just holding him in your mouth. You had half a mind to ask about that, actually.

Sam moaned, his fingers twisting in the covers as you pulled your head back, then forward again, sucking and licking along his length. You’d wanted to take your time at first, tease him and see how long it took for him to be fisting your hair and moving your head for you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh my God,” he whispered as you increased your speed, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. His dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, something you might have been embarrassed about in the past. Now it turned you on.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Sam’s hips despite his best efforts. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “Shit, (Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos – before you met him, that was – as his hand finally flew to your hair, his fingers carding through it. He was trying so hard to be gentle, and you loved him for it.

“You look so hot like that,” he whispered. “How’re you so fucking hot?”

You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You vividly remembered a conversation you’d had with Sam and Dean in the car once, where Dean had proclaimed that “there are blowjobs, and then there are blowjobs.” Sam had turned and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Dean had yelled at you both and told you to get a room. What you were doing right now was definitely a blowjob, and you were loving every second of it.

“I’m gonna cum,” Sam was panting, “(Y/N) oh my God I’m gonna cum.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, his head thrown back and his cock twitching in your mouth. You went all in, sucking and licking and jerking with everything you had in you.

Yes, you thought as you swallowed everything he gave you, basking in his muttered curses and groans like they were water and you were a wilted houseplant. This was heaven, right here. Every time you watched him come undone, you were completely convinced it couldn’t get any better than this. And without fail, the next time it did.

He was still panting as you licked him clean, as gently as you could. His hand had settled on your shoulder, large fingers caressing your skin so tenderly it made you want to cry.

“You ok?” you asked, sitting back. You patted his knee, watching his face carefully. He was flushed, a light sheen of sweat sticking some of his hair to his forehead. You hadn’t really paid much attention at the time, but now you wished you’d made him take off his shirt too. You loved watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath.

“Ok?” he echoed, opening his eyes. He grinned. “I’m more than ok.”

You smiled back, licking your lips. “Good.”

“Come up here,” he said, patting his leg. “And take off your pants.”

“Magic word?”

“Please.” Then, on second thoughts, “pretty please.”

You laughed, but got up and shed your jeans anyway. You slid onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you softly, holding you close against him. The material of his shirt tickled your skin, very noticeably baring you from the silken warmth of his skin.

“Off,” you said against his lips, plucking at the garment.

“Off,” he repeated, tracing the line of your underwear.

Almost perfectly in sync, the two of you shed the offending clothing.

“I love this,” he whispered as he reached behind you, deftly unfastening your bra and pulling it away from you. He set it aside carefully, almost reverently, then bent his head and fastened his mouth to your breast. “Hey,” he said after a moment, frowning.

You frowned too. “What’s wrong?”

His finger traced a delicate circle over your other breast, tapping at a spot just above your nipple. “What’s this?”

You squinted at the area, then laughed. The faded yellowish bruise wasn’t all that visible, but of course Sam would find it.

“What is it?”

“It’s a hickey. From you. From last time.”

His face cleared. “Shit, didn’t realise it’d last that long. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you smiled. “Makes me think of you whenever I see it.”

“Maybe I should give you more, then.”

Your grin widened. “Please.”

“Mm?”

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Ok.” He bent once more, sucking a matching spot into your unmarked breast. Then he added another one beside it, and a third right in the middle of your sternum.

“No more low cut tops, I guess,” you sighed, stifling a moan as he moved downwards with another.

“Shame,” he murmured into your skin, “I love those low cut tops.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’d be insane not to.”

You laughed, then gasped as he ran his hand up your thigh.

“Relax,” he said.

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed.”

“Your heartbeat says you’re lying.”

“That��s for you,” you told him, meeting his eyes. “That’s what you do to me.”

“And this?” His finger darted between your legs, sliding easily with how wet you were.

“Yeah,” you gasped, “all for you.”

He cursed softly, then lowered you gently onto the bed. He propped himself half over you, half beside you, his hand stroking down over your stomach, your hips, around your pelvis.

“Please,” you moaned. “Sam, please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Please,” you added as an afterthought.

“Nice manners,” he noted, rubbing achingly slow circles over your clit.

You gripped his arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he bent and resumed his assault on your breasts.

“You take such good care of me,” he continued, his voice muffled slightly by your soft flesh. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Cause I love you,” you whispered.

“Mhm, you gonna let me take care of you too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.”

You whined at the loss of his fingers on your clit, then bit your lip to quiet what would have been a loud moan as he slipped the finger inside you. The heel of his hand ground against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his finger putting just the right pressure in just the right places. You’d be a mess in no time, and you both knew it.

“Fuck, Sam,” you panted, your back arching as you chased the feeling.

“Hm?” His chest was warm where it pressed against your side, the muscles of his arm rippling subtly under the skin where your fingers dug into him. His free hand stroked your shoulder, his mouth busy littering your chest with hickeys. You could feel him growing hard again against your thigh.

“Fuck me?” you half asked, half offered.

He grunted softly at your words, nodding. “Got a condom?”

“Mhm, yeah, sure. One sec.” You reached over to your jeans, rummaging in the pockets until you struck gold. Or foil, you supposed. You watched as Sam tore it open and slid it on, as easily as if he was tying shoelaces. He’d gotten stupidly fast at putting the things on, courtesy of the whole “Dean could get back any minute so let’s just be as fast as we can” element you so often found yourselves dealing with. You weren’t complaining.

“Ready?” he asked, positioning himself between your legs. You rocked your hips gently, feeling his hardness pressed against your dripping centre.

He nodded, then softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers twisting in the duvet.

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Move,” you urged him. He did, slow and gentle. The light was doing that thing with his hair again, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Brush it off his forehead, kiss him there, smooth the faint worry line that seemed to be present more and more frequently. You’d do anything to make it disappear forever.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning forward to deliver more kisses to your chest. You were gonna have a whole forest of hickeys when you were done.

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work.

“Touch yourself,” he encouraged you, “I want you to cum while I’m fucking you.”

“Shit, ok,” you replied, reaching down and running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. You loved how easily you could give and take control with him, how quickly and smoothly you could switch roles when you wanted to. It wasn’t just in bed, either, and you adored it. You adored him.

Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was perfect. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Sam’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he.

“(Y/N), fuck,” he moaned, his abdominal muscles twitching and tensing.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax.

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning.

He rolled off you, peeling off the condom and tying it neatly before tossing it to the floor to be disposed of later. You turned to face him, your head resting on his bicep, his other arm draped over your side. His hand stroked your back, soft and loving.

You smiled as you reached up, sweeping the hair from his face. “You good?” you murmured, cupping his cheek gently.

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You reciprocated, then stretched up and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“How about you?” he asked.

“I’m great.” Then you sighed, your thumb stroking tiny arcs across the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

“Look at you,” he answered. “You’re so beautiful.”

You closed the few inches of space between you, pressing your lips to his. “I really do love you,” you said as you pulled away. “So much.”

He smiled. “I know, I love you too. More than anything.”

You went to kiss him again, but his phone buzzed and you froze. He groped for it blindly, frowning. You’d both learnt the hard way that if his phone went off and Dean wasn’t with you, it was best to check it.

Sam snorted, flipping it around for you to see.

The text, from Dean, was two sentences. “Back in 1/2 hour. Get decent.”

“Screw you, Dean.”

Sam laughed, tossing the phone to the side. “I guess we’ve got half an hour.”

“I’m taking a shower then,” you said. “I saw a vending machine, like, right outside, and I really want a soda right now.”

“I’ll get you a soda if you let me take the shower with you?”

“Deal.” You held out your hand as if to shake on it, but he kissed it instead. Yeah, “gentleman” was definitely high up on that list.

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crybaby-bkg · 8 months

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sadly and soggily thinking about dating gojo and being so deep in the relationship, that you think you two were made for each other. two peas in a pod, two halves of a whole, two severed souls connecting once more. so perfect for each other that you don’t even think about mentioning marriage and kids, convinced that you guys are already on the same page.

all until it comes up in conversation and things aren’t as perfect as you thought they were. marriage—yes, absolutely, gojo is ecstatic about tying the knot, giving you the wedding of your dreams, calling you his for the rest of you guys’ lives.

but….kids? he’s thought about it and the answer has always been a clear no in his mind. he couldn’t even dream of bringing another him into the universe, fears that it might throw off the balance of the world. that he can’t exist if his child does, but why exist at all if his child’s lesser abilities will only result in them being shunned? of being told how much of a disappointment they are? of being isolated?

and sadly, it’s a breaking point for you. you just wanted one, at least, with your forever partner. and if he can’t give it to you, then he must not be the one for you. you didn’t wanna trap gojo or coerce or manipulate him into giving you the baby you always so selfishly desired, so you leave him.

and how broken does it make him. makes him resent a baby never even conceived or planted, makes him hate what used to be and would have never been.

but…it also makes him think. if his fears would come true, if his hesitance is justified. would he be able to go long lengths to protect his baby? to protect you? would that target his whole family having a weak spot? and is it…is it even worth it at all?

#sorry my writing has been so sad lately lol #I think about that post where someone was like #‘stop writing smut start writing angst/fluff more wah wah wahhh’#but it’s like omg my angst stuff ***** every time LMFAO #which I get tho bc who likes to be sad constantly when it comes to comfort reading!!!!!#lol anyway I hope this made sense #and sorry for ending so abruptly these cramps r whooping my ass #I just think he is so sad n soggy bc he wants you wholly but struggles with sooo many aspects of being a ‘normal’ human #idk DOES THAT EVEN MAKE SENSE #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#gojo treats! 🍬

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venusbby · 11 months

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TOO LUCKY — 🪽 *ﾟ⁠+ itoshi rin.

"rin, please don't move. oh my god, dont move!"

"im not, it's the wind." he grumbles as he shifts just a little on the grass, contrary to his words as you groan in frustration but still continue to click the white circle repeatedly.

you can't stop the squeal that leaves you as you look at all the numerous pictures (most of them being shaky) you just clicked in one go. your lips curve into a wide smile as you gush over the pictures. "all of this is going on my pinterest and my instagram and everything that lets me post pictures."

he leans forward just a little, peeking into your phone, the afternoon sunlight making him squint his eyes. he watches you swipe through multiple photos of him to see what's so special about it, until you stop at the photo that makes you gasp in astonishment, and he's staring with wide eyes too.

most of the pictures were shaky and not as great because of how excited you were, yet that one clear picture looks so different. rin can't believe that's him, lips slightly parted as he blinks and tries to find some sort of imperfection— to find absolutely nothing.

nothing but his dark hair and the grass in the background, the black and green contrasting in the bright sunlight as little white flowers struggle to stay intact in those straight strands of his. his hand covering his eyes in the photo due to how bright it was as he faced the sun. you were glad he didn't have his eyes open or else the picture would have been on the completely different level.

you let out a soft breath after a few seconds of looking at that picture and zooming in. "that's... so pretty."

rin doesn't speak, he just stares, and then quickly begins to ruffle his hair as the remaining flowers fall out on the grass under you both. while he looks down as he does that, his face fills up with heat that is definitely not from the sun. "whatever. im pretty sure i have tiny insects in my hair now."

you huff at his attempt to move on from such a beautiful picture, but help him anyway. your hand ruffles his hair with more love and force than necessary, making him grunt.

now he's free from all the flowers, but his hair looks like a mess.

a bad mess, but he still looks so breathtaking and you don't know how.

in one swift movement, you bring your phone up again and click one more picture. he curses, before reaching for the phone and tackling you on the grass in the process, making you yelp as you both get tangled together.

he breathes heavily as he pins you down, finally getting a hold of your phone and placing it beside you both on the mat that's occupied by the baskets full of snacks and fruits and other stuff you brought for the picnic. "enough."

you smile softly, blinking up at him as his face is inches away, his shadow casted over you, blocking the sun from getting into your eyes. he just keeps looking more and more beautiful, and your heart keeps on racing and racing. your fingers somehow interlock with his in this position, his legs tangled with yours as he settles on top of you completely.

"i'm too lucky, i think." you whisper, your eyes drowning themselves in his as you make no attempt to resist him— resist the way he was leaning closer and closer because of how tempting your lips look.

"that's not true. im too lucky." he whispers back after a minute or so, his nose brushing against yours as he presses himself more onto you, his other hand reaching beside him again to pick up a weak flower from the grass, from the many flowers that he had very roughly shuffled out of his hair a few minutes ago.

he places that one little flower into your hair carefully. you look beautiful. he's too lucky.

then he kisses you tenderly. his usually soft lips are slightly chapped from how long you've been in the sun and the hot summer air these days, but he can't think of how embarrassing it is because whenever you're kissing him, he gets lost in something that he never wants to escape from.

his tongue slips into your mouth as you hold the back of his head gently and your nails scratch his scalp. just before you two can get too carried away, you feel a buzzing sound around you and gasp as you pull away and quickly bury your face in his neck, covering your ears. "there's an insect—"

he lets out some mix of a sharp breath and a chuckle, before covering you with himself as he looks around for any possible insects— to find none. he's resting his elbow right beside your head and putting his weight on it to keep from completely falling on top of you. "it's gone. don't worry."

you slowly stop hiding, and an embarrassed smile makes its way on your face. "sorry. can we, um—"

"yeah." rin gives a small, teasing smile. and then he kisses you again.

all i do is write pointless drabbles that somehow mean a lot to me. what has this blog become? venusdrabbles? bye.

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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Despite Your Flaws: Vergil x G/N Reader

SUMMARY: Vergil and you are spending a soft moment together; one where Vergil asks a question that has been on his mind since V defeated Urizen.

BEGINNING NOTES: I wrote this while listening to “Our Happy Ending” from Buddy Simulator 1984 (I'll link it below). I highly suggest reading this while listening to it. The song helps set the tone; plus there are no words so it doesn’t mess with your reading (at least that’s how my brain works lmao) and it's short. Quick reminder: Check my H/Cs for what Vergil is wearing--you can find it through the AO3 link below. 🟪💠⬛🟪💠⬛ Vergil x G/N Reader Fluff Not angst per se, but kinda sad Short and cute; at least I think so anyway

The room was quiet except for the faint baroque-style music coming from the record player. In the middle of the room on the queen size mattress were two people; the eldest son of Sparda and you, his beloved muse. The pair were leaning up ever so slightly against the headboard; Vergil had a book in hand while you were studying the former.

It was the first time in a long time that the both of you took a day off to yourselves; one that was only about relaxing and indulging in each other’s warmth. No training. No paperwork. Nothing. Just the two of you intertwined in one another’s limbs.

An unintentional quiet delighted hum emanated from you as you mindlessly traced Vergil’s tattoos; something you used to do quite often with V. However, when compared to V, tracing the complete man’s skin was different.

He is more muscular than V. Vergil’s skin is much warmer and rougher to the touch; the divots and seemingly random scarring that adorned the pallid skin only added to the sensation. Despite them being the same person, their reactions were almost opposites; V would seemingly melt into your touch, while Vergil tends to flinch and pull away from your soft touches--which you'd never hold against the tormented man, but it was still different.

“I do not understand why you do that,” Vergil sighed as he watched your hand travel up his forearm.

You looked up at him with a raised brow, “Do what?”

A soft thump came from his book as he shut it, focusing on the conversation, “Trace those.”

It wasn’t surprising that Vergil disliked his tattoos, not only because of the painful memories that spawned them but because of the man who adorned them before.

You gently traced down one of the larger lines, “I don’t really have a reason,” your fingers ghosted the back side of his hand and down his knuckles, “Do you want me to stop?”

Vergil set his cheek against the top of your head and grabbed your hand, “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wish I was-” his brow twitched at his thoughts, “was still him?”

A small sad frown pulled the corners of your lips down, “What? Who do you mean?”

“V.”

You shook your head gently, “No,” your fingers tightened around his, “I like having the entire person; not just half.”

Vergil stared down at the intertwinement of your hands, “Are you… sure..?”

“Of course,” you got up and moved to sit on his lap, wanting a better view of your lover, “Why would I want anyone else?”

“V was much kinder to you,” his eyes avoided yours, “He was more personable… V was raw unfiltered humanity; why wouldn’t you want that?”

“Because,” you gently pulled one of his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles, whispering softly, “I prefer a man with flaws rather than one who is perfect; if they are perfect, they cannot improve, cannot change. Flaws are what makes someone human, Vergil.”

He shook his head ‘no’ and looked at you with a furrowed brow, “That doesn’t make sense; V was precisely all of my humanity, how could he not have been human?”

You gave him a soft comforting smile, “Just because something is labeled as one thing doesn’t mean that it fits said category; you are a prime example.”

“How so?”

Your smile widened, “One could label you as a fickle evil man, while all I see is a man who was hurting, who needed help and couldn’t find any; someone who acted out of pure emotion. A man who needed to be cared and loved for.”

Silence fell back over the room as Vergil mulled over his thoughts and shook his head.

“But why do you care for me? After everything that I am responsible for causing? Why wouldn’t you want someone free of those sins?” Vergil’s face was that of curiosity but his voice had an underlying sadness.

You gently placed your palm on his cheek, rubbing it with your thumb, “Because you deserve it. Because I fell in love with Vergil; both halves of you.”

He scoffed and turned away from you and your palm.

“I mean it,” you took your other hand and used it to turn his gaze back to you, holding both sides of his face in your hands, “Despite everything, you still deserve to be loved, to be cared about; no matter what. You are a sweet and loving man, Vergil. I wouldn’t trade you for V, for Urizen, even for the world itself. You mean more than anything else ever has to me, my dear. I would follow you to the ends of the Earth if that is what you wished. I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t regret a single moment spent with you; only that I couldn’t spend more of my time with you.”

Vergil turned his gaze down a bit, blinking slowly, “That is a dangerous mindset; one that could be taken advantage of, you know that? How do you know that I won’t do so?”

“I trust you,” you smiled warmly and paused for a moment in thought before smiling wider, “ ‘For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress’.”

The blue devil smiled and turned his gaze back to you, “Have you forgotten that I am half-devil?”

“Not in the slightest, in fact,” you squirmed closer to him, placing your forehead against his, “I can hear a loud purring from him.”

Embarrassment spread across Vergil’s face, “You are hearing things.”

You decided to ignore his comment, “You know, I like hearing you purr, Vergil. It lets me know that you’re happy, at least to some extent, and that’s all I want; for you to be happy.”

“With you my love,” Vergil placed a gentle sweet kiss on your lips, “I am in pure bliss.”

ENDING NOTES: I have been working on a smutty Vergil fic and needed a break so I just wanted something short, cute, and soft. Also for more context: Vergil will never admit it but he sees/saw V as the "better" half of him. Urizen was a powerful brute but that's not what Vergil wants to be; sure he wants power but a warrior without knowledge is worthless in a fight. 💠💠💠 Hope y'all enjoyed reading and thanks for the support! It truly means a lot to me after all the other fandoms I've been in; ones where it is so toxic that I never shared my stories or art, so it's nice to have a kind community like the DMC one ;)))

Link for song: Our Happy Ending: Buddy Simulator 1984

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

#devil may cry vergil #dmc vergil #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry #Vergil x reader #vergil x g/n reader #vergil x male reader #vergil x female reader #oneshot #reposted from AO3 #fluff #Vergil at the core is a soft man who needs a hug #you cannot convince me otherwise #I just wanted some cute Vergil stuff #Youtube

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theapangea · 11 months

Text

Kiss Me

Pairing/Characters: Jay Kelso x Reader, Gwen, Ozzie

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Jay offers to be your first kiss.

Warning: None

A/N: First fic with Jay Kelso!!! Seriously so exciting to start writing for him. My request are always open if you want more!! Sorry if there are any typos!!!

*Also posted on AO3: theapangea*

The loud bang of the door shutting behind you was definitely not ignored by anyone in the basement. Your body plopping onto the couch, the audible groan escaping your lips as the trio look between each other, contemplating who should say something.

Huffing while lowering the magazine he was holding, “Is this the part I’m supposed to ask what is wrong?” Ozzie’s voice says to your left.

Your eyes scan the ceiling, head tilting towards him before answering, “Yes.” The whine in your tone was soft, even making your own heart break a little.

Gwen makes her way to you, her body pushing the rough fabric down, her arm resting on the back of the couch, “What’s up?”

“I have a date with Tommy Horn tomorrow.” The whine is still noticeable. The room losing tension at your not-so-serious dilemma.

“Hey good for you” Her smile is radiant, stroking her fingers through your hair.

“No.” You sit up quickly, your whole body turning towards her, “Not good for me.” Your hands doing the speaking for you before lifting yourself off the sunken spot, heading over to the cooler.

“Why?” Jay follows you.

Lifting the cooler door open, grabbing your favorite flavor of popsicle and handing him a grape one.

You sign, not wanting to tell him your real reason for not wanting to go on this date. Sure Tommy Horn is super cute and you can’t believe he asked you out. But there is one thing about him-

“Tommy always kisses on the first date.” Gwen teases.

There it is. You shut your eyes, hoping that this whole situation goes away but when you open them again you see them all staring at you. Great. Your shoulders slump as you lean against the cooler. Feeling the cool box through your denim shorts.

“So…” Jay still not seeing the problem, taking a taste of his popsicle.

It’s so cute when he’s oblivious you thought.

Rubbing your hand on the back of your neck as you begin to mumble some inaudible words.

Jay leans closer to you, “Yep, caught none of that.” He says before holding the popsicle in his mouth as he lifts himself onto the cooler.

“I'VE NEVER KISSED ANYONE BEFORE, OKAY?” You basically shout, “Don’t laugh Jay.,” you plead, catching him before he could, your pointer finger on his lips. Feeling the hot breath escaping through the open part.

Then there’s Ozzie. His laugh echoing through the basement, probably even the whole house. The embarrassment floods through your body.

Gwen stands up, “On my god, we are leaving since you can’t behave.” She grabs him by the arm practically dragging him out of the basement before he can object.

The tragic walk of shame back to the couch as you and Jay are now the only occupants of the basement.

“Wait, you seriously haven’t kissed anyone before.” You shake your head no at his comment as you sit down, silently wishing the couch would engulf your entire body.

Hopping off of the cooler, saying, ‘What about Daniel Peter’s party in 7th grade? Didn’t you kiss him?” He tries to recall, his popsicle almost gone.

“I chickened out while I was in the closet with him. We promised each other that we would lie since neither of us have had our first kiss yet.” You confess, still holding onto the melting popsicle in your hands.

You name softly rolling off his tongue, “It’s been almost 5 years and you still haven’t had it yet?” His analysis is deafening.

And that’s when the idea hit him. He wasn’t sure if it was actually a good plan or not, he can’t really tell when one of his ideas is. “Kiss me.”

“Jay Kelso say what?” His tone is so casual you almost didn’t believe what just came out of his mouth.

“Kiss me and I’ll tell you if you’re good or not.” You can’t help but look anywhere but his face, “So like you know what to do on your date.” He stumbles on his words. Did he finally realize what he said to you? Was the tension in the room making him nervous?

“I really don’t think I can do that.” You try to focus on the tv, wishing the volume would drown out this conversation.

“Why not?” He brings his leg onto the couch, his arm hanging on the back, his grape popsicle slowly being forgotten about.

You laugh, forcing any sort of embarrassment away, “What if you end up falling completely in love with me? Then what?” Crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m like 99% sure that won’t happen.”

“But that 1% seems a little too big for me.” You quickly counter.

“Seriously, get over here and kiss me right now.” His demanding tone sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heart rate increases by the second as you breathe out. Taking a gulp before moving closer to him.

Situating yourself in front of him. “Ok so like how should this go, like you go left and I go right, or is that the same way for the both of us. Or maybe we both go left?” You start to ramble on.

“Just be quiet and close your eyes.” His voice is steady. Placing his hand on your thigh making you shut up instantly, his thumb ever so slightly rubbing circles on your bare skin. The goose bumps on your legs becoming prominent.

You take a deep breath before closing your eyes.

Waiting.

You can feel him move on the couch, his other hand placed gently on your cheek, pulling you toward him. His lips brushing against yours as your breaths become one. The sweet taste of grape popsicles swirling through your mouth. The kiss was soft and meaningful with every last second. Leaning into the warmth of the kiss.

And then it’s over. Your lips suddenly lost without him.

Your heart rate is still high as you never wanted it to end. Was that supposed to be how every kiss felt? Cosmic, breathless, absolutely unbelievably out of this world?

Gaining the courage to open one eye before asking, “Did you fall madly in love with me?”

He ponders your question. “I think I'm fine.” He smiles before settling back into the couch, his mind resting on the tv as he reaches for the remote to turn it up.

His demeanor was so casual and normal. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking and how this whole kiss thing didn’t affect him. You can’t help but be completely intoxicated with the taste of him. Realizing now that you were actually the one falling in love with Jay Kelso.

~~~~~~

Let me know what you think!! <3

#jay kelso x reader #Jay Kelso fanfic #Jay Kelso fluff #Jay Kelso x y/n #that 90s show #that 90s show fanfiction #first kiss fanfic #just some cute stuff

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