Tumgik
#like imagine them all lifting the cup it's making me cry just thinking about it
seattlesellie · 8 months
Note
i have a request!! i had a thought yesterday and imagine ellie coming home to you complaining about your hurting tits and at first she’s like kind of concerned yk so she gently asks you to let her see but then she gets turned on and starts to play with them and stuff djdksksk i need her so bad
painkiller.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: mentions of reader having pms, afab reader, smut (minors… please don’t), tit play obviously, slight spit play as well, pathetic caring dom ellie, masturbation (e)
an: i really am a sucker for ellie taking care of u when ur feeling unwell :( just makes me feel fjjsjdjs and i can’t even imagine how comforting she it. btw i had farm ellie in mind (don’t i always) 💗 i’m kinda on the fence with this one but i’m writing dbf abby n needed a break<3
Tumblr media
although the sun has sunk, and the dark blue skies are veiled by a shroud of dark clouds, the heavy and sultry august heat managed to creep itself through your window, nevertheless. the white wine in your glass — the 'chenin blanc' to be exact, has lost all of it’s docile sweetness all of a sudden, succumbing to an unpalatable acrimony. even the book that’s half opened, resting on your knees; seems devoid of interest, and you’re left there, sat on the couch, accompanied by another painful groan escaping from your lips, and a dull ache settling within your body.
it just is one of those days. 
you bring your trembling hand lower, finding solace against your chest. with a slight opening of your quivering bottom lip, you whine through clenched teeth. you gulp, gingerly placing the wine glass upon the table, and rest your eyes shut. “hurts…” you whimper into the void, cupping your right breast and attempting to soothe and massage it. your touch, albeit is nothing but soft, manages to make it ache even more. you squeeze your eyes in despair, and a fat tear flows down your cheek. you wipe it away, followed by a hushed but tormented hum.
five minutes manage to pass by, and just as you teeter on the precipice of sleep, an insistent stab of pain jolts you awake. the pain slyly creeps around, wends its insidious path, and ‘rests’ down on your lower back, your hips, and then finds home on your breasts again. a pain killer could help, perhaps, but you’ve already taken two, and mixing it with wine, albeit only half a glass, would be quite a bad idea.
“this… SUCKS!” — you groan, and maybe god could hear you and fix it, if only you were loud enough.
then, your ears twitch at the subtle creak emanating from the keyhole. after that, the wooden door opens. you were thinking about god hearing you, and somehow ellie managed to appear. you’d entertain her with that amusing little thought, but all you can mutter after her relieved “hey, babe” — is a rather pathetic hiccup. ellie walks intently towards you, eyebrows knitted tightly, the staccato rhythm of her rough boots echoing upon the wooden floor, and she walks almost as if she found a wounded fawn in the middle of a dirt road.
your eyes remain firmly sealed, your limbs limp and listless at your sides, and even though you can’t see, you can tell she’s crouched down in front of you. ellie inhales deeply, and places both of her rough hands on your thighs. “hey… whats wrong?” she asks, her voice husky and thick with concern. god — does hearing that caring tone make you want to sob even harder. it tugs at your heartstrings, and you don’t respond. “talk to me… please… uh, let me get you some water?”, and with another hiccup leaving your lips, ellie nods to herself and almost walks away to the kitchen. helplessly, attempting to make her stay, you grab her wrist and sniffle away. “hurts…” you cry, and your eyes flutter open, meeting her worried gaze. her eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes are travelling from your own orbs to your cheek, her hand lifting up to wipe a measly tear away.
you love her so much you think you might scream.
ellie caresses down your thigh now, then down your knee, and then travels further down to your ankle. she plants a tender kiss there, and then on your wrist, waiting for you to reply. “baby, answer me… i… hate seeing you like this” she pleads.
as if on cue, the sharp pain strikes again, like a gentle lightening bolt, shooting through the bottom of your left breast. “think i’m… about to get my period, i dunno… everything hurts” you admit, sniffling. “i’m dramatic, sorry…” you whisper softly, and ellie sighs, shaking her head. “not dramatic, babe… i mean, you know how i get… you cry, and i break stuff… if we really think about it, i'm the dramatic one” she chuckles, tilting her head to the side. she has some light bags underneath her forest green eyes. she must have had a long, exhausting day at work — and here you are sobbing because your boobs hurt. you pout slightly and manage to let out of a small, exhausted giggle. “you don’t break stuff…”, ellie arches a brow and smirks. “no? what about that vase in the bedroom?” 
she's… half right. she didn’t break it on purpose, she was kicking the drawer because she felt like “there’s a demon", on her “cursed fuckin’ useless lesbian uterus” — so the wooden furniture shook, leading to the vase's demise, and it shattered into countless tiny pieces. then, she bought a new vase that didn’t fit the room at all, but you kept it nevertheless. 'ellie’s apology for being an asshole vase' is what she called it, and how could you dispose of such a thing?
it’s corny, really, but you somehow managed to forget you were even crying in the first place. “t’was an ugly vase”, you murmur. ellie plants another small kiss on your thigh and you nearly purr. “you liked that vase, liar”, she teases.
you sit in cozy cocoon of silence, ellie's anecdotes and workplace stories become a soothing distraction. she's careful, almost calculated, as she takes note of every smile that graces your face instead of a wince.
it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
you laugh and giggle, until you don’t. another bolt of striking pain hits your breast. you mewl, and ellie immediately ceases her sentence. “stomach?” she asks, her hand descending to rest on your lower abdomen. her palms are big and warm, and if it did hurt, you’re more than convinced her touch will make it go away. “um… no…”, and although her touch there is comforting, it’s not where the real ache lies. “where?” ellie asks, now lifting herself up and sitting right beside you. she moves the half opened book to the side, scoffing. “that book sucks, by the way… ass story” 
maybe it wasn’t just you.
she caresses down your shoulder, squeezing in affection. “where does it hurt, babe? your back?” she inquires and you hiss again, flinching in pain. “no uh…” you whisper, and then lower your chin, as if you’re attempting to signal ellie to where the pain really stays. she lowers her gaze, blinking thrice before looking up at you. your eyes are glassy and it makes her heart melt and ache. such a pretty crier, and for what? she wonders. “uh… my… y’know… my boobs… they jus’ feel heavy” you whine, your voice a soft, pitiable whisper. ellie takes her bottom lip between her teeth. “poor thing, huh?” she rasps. “owh… hate them…” you mutter, holding a breast between your fingers.
ellie chuckles, trying to seem undistracted by the way your hand is cupping your breast in despair. her poor girl… and her poor tits… — but she still is, worried about you. and she really does care, so she pushes that negligible thought to the side. “well, i like them”, she rasps quietly and cocks her head. “uh, y'know, a lot” she remarks, and she really isn’t trying to turn you on, just distract you again. 
you wrestle with a mischievous smile, damp and sticky eyelashes closing in despair. the juxtaposition is absolutely unheard of — the small river flowing down your cheek, and the smiles that keep involuntary appearing. “just like? you don’t love them?” you playfully prod, and then hiccup when you feel the ache smite again. ellie chuckles and wipes another tear with her calloused palm and not with her finger, and then let’s out of a throaty chuckle. “no i… i love your tits very mu—“ her words are cut short, as she notices you biting your lip, attempting to stifle your laughter. she shoves you playfully and rolls her eyes. “fuck you babe… if you see me blushing, ignore that shit, i swear to god, i’m posessed” — she insists, as if she doesn’t blush when kiss her lips in the morning, as if she doesn’t blush when you get dressed or undressed in front of her, or when you hold her hand and introduce her as your girlfriend.
she’s a raging, awkward blusher and she needs to come to terms with that.
you snigger, but the pain however — is still there. “owh…” you hiccup, and as soon as that thought creeps inside ellie’s mind, she swallows, no — gulps, and places her palm gently on your breast. then, she holds you by the back of your neck and makes you look up at her. “can i help you, babe?” she questions, a quivering breath following her query. your lips part, and you want to say “yes”, it's echoing in your thoughts, but all that comes out is a small sigh of relief. it nearly makes you tremble, your own hand never felt that good. you nod slowly, and ellie nods with you. “just… a little massage, yeah?” she rasps, tongue moistening her bottom lip. all she needs to do is help you find relief from that dull, pinching ache, but all she yearns to do is make you whimper out again. god, ellie…
“close your eyes… i got you” she comforts sympathetically. although her voice is commanding, you don’t follow her demand, because the way her tatted forearm flexes when she spreads her fingers on your breasts, makes you want to watch and be an audience of that glorious show forever. ellie follows your eyes, and then her own — fall down on your aching breasts. “gonna take your bra off… that ok?”, she asks, as if she doesn't already know the answer. you shut your eyes involuntarily, when her finger strokes down on your clothed, aching nipple. “i got you”, she repeats, and as soon as you know it, your bare but swollen breasts are loose, and on full display. they hurt still, but the relief is apparent on your face. ellie bites her lip, and thank god your eyes are closed, because her pupils grew twice in size, and she doesn’t want it to be sexual but she can’t help it when you’re so…
“i really do love them…” she whispers but it's simply to herself, albeit your ears catch it and you “hmm?” in response. “nothing, relax, close your eyes… gonna let ellie take care of you now, yeah?, deep breaths...” — the warmth inside your stomach spreads, and it feels like sweet and sticky lava. you hum, sighing in relief, followed by a small hiccup of pain or… arousal, as soon as ellie takes both of your breasts in her hand and begins kneading them together. it’s all very gentle, albeit her wheeze sounding breaths. when her thumb caresses your nipple, you flinch in the slightest and ellie picks up on it. “right there?” she questions, and when you find her thumb on your swollen nipple again, it’s wet — she licked it, brought her digit inside her mouth and sucked. ellie begins circling the puffy nob, now wet and glistening with her saliva, and your hips buck forward. she hums, “still hurts?” — you want to shake your head no, because it really doesn’t feel like it’s hurting any more, at least not in a bad way, but you nod your head instead. “awh…” she coos, nodding her head again, with you. when ellie hears the small whimper that escapes your mouth, she chuckles. “really… really hurts, pretty girl?” she teases, still keeping her touches light as a feather and nothing but gentle. “yeah… hurts, ellie”, you whisper, and ellie sighs and hums. she traces faint circles on both of your nipples, “think i need to work harder then… huh, poor baby?”, she mutters underneath her breath.
when her hot mouth latches itself onto your nipple, your chest all but buzzes and heaves. a moan that you can’t bring yourself to suppress leaves your mouth, and ellie groans in response. her tongue forms small circles on your nipples, both of her hands still kneading the flesh, lifting it up and then dropping it down. her index and middle finger squeeze your nipples together underneath her tongue and you wince, a small broken sob coming from deep within. she milks the pain away, and if it was perhaps in liquid form, you could say you were sucked dry. “shh, shh…” ellie murmurs. she attaches her mouth back on the nob, now suckling it in and out of her needy, hot mouth. "uh-huh... let go for me", she whispers, gently flicking a nipple up and down.
every time you whimper and cry, she has to squeeze her thighs together — because my god do you tits hurt but her cunt aches even harder.
when ellie takes your nipple out of her mouth, you let out of a small gasp. she wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and takes a moment to admire the work of art sitting in front of her. your eyes, closed shut. your bottom lip, in between your teeth, and your breasts — covered up, glistening with her warm saliva. “jesus, i…” she murmurs under her breath. you push your chest forward, an attempt of showing her you’re begging for her mouth again, “hurts, please… ellie, help” you mewl, and with a grunt followed by a whimper, ellie latches on to them again. you open your eyes slowly, looking down at her through wet eyelashes, and when you see her — her eyes are intently shut, her mouth devouring you, forehead covered by sweet beads of thin sweat. “just wanna help you, just… wanna help” she whispers, her tongue pathetically hanging out of her pouty pink lips.
the desire to take her unoccupied hand, and give it a small kiss is strong, but you quickly notice — it is nothing but unoccupied. it’s shoved down her pants, moving with fervour and want. when she opens her eyes and sees that you’re looking, she whimpers a blocked but high pitched sound.  “hurts for me too”, she pats her palm directly on her achy cunt, and it might be unconventional pain-reliever, but perhaps... your ache flowed into her.
<3
2K notes · View notes
medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months
Text
Perv Eddie munson x innocent pastors daughter reader 👁👁
♡masterlist♡
Tumblr media
MINORS DNI
contains: darkish characters(??) Innocent! Reader, bashing religion
༺*:゚・✧・:*:゚・♡ readmore ♡・゚:*:・✧・゚:*༻
-him only acknowledging you when you're assigned partners in English, what a surprise when he was met with the pastors innocent little daughter
-spending time at your house with the door open, your father was not please to find "the devil himself" in your room. Eddie made up some bullshit about seeing the light (obviously mocking him but still fuling your fathers ego)
- very shocked to find out you dont share the same beliefs as your father, which he only found out about after he went on a rant about how you must find him so scary
"I- I um dont find you scary because of the way you dress or um the music you listen to you're just very loud and i dont really like loud things"
- what a lovely little friendship that bloomed, aka eddie corrupting you and you liking it.
- did someone say Eddie's hands? 👁👁 they're so soft (one softer that the other if you catch my drift) especially when they creep up your skirt
"EDDIE! What are you doing?! you cant touch there!-"
"Shhh relax I'm just pulling down your skirt for you"
- he definitely steals your panties when you invite him over, always returns them covered in his cum tho <3 what a sweetheart
- invites you over to his trailer (your parents narrowingly let you go after you told a lie about staying at someone else's house), let's you try smoking only for you to choke. Behold shotgunning, it's so cute to see your face get all hot and heated as his lips were so close to yours
- coincidentally hes discovered that you get VERY horny while high, the rutting against him proves it. He doesnt even think you realise it
"That feel good?"
"S'making me giggly"
- he wasnt talking about the weed but hes okay with you using him for pleasure.
- the first time you guys try anything would be when you met him in the woods and sobbed your pretty little heart out over being a virgin and having no experience.
- luckily for you big-dick-sex-master-eddie™️ is here to help
- you had arranged for him to come over while your parents were away (something that happened rarely)
- imagine a nice dinner then watching a movie in your room as you lay on his chest, where his hands would feel you up, grazing your knee and travel further rubbing up your thigh to cupping your mound while he praises you
"Such a good girl f'me, so soft too. My Pretty pretty girl"
- hed make it the best first time in your life
- hed suck your clit through your panties  making sure to smell you as he gets the chance, savouring what hes been imagining when he rubs one out. Make you all wet and sticky until you cry, so sensitive to everything
- he would let you explore his body and cock, so you dont get scared away by the pierced monster in between his legs (hed teach you about blow jobs later) your jerk him off a little bit, with Eddie's guidance
- his necklace would dangle infront of your face as he positions himself against you, hes already prepped you so good, you're all opened up for him but that doesnt mean that theres no pain. You're practically clinging to him as he praises you for taking him so well
- hed start out so slow in the beginning as you mewl and coo under him soon picking up the pace as your hips lift to meet his thrusts.
- he would have to grab the headboard to try to minimize the banging/damage against the wall the last thing you need is your nighbour  checking up on you while you're getting your brains banged out (or your parents to ask why there a holes in you walls)
- running a bath for the both of you and laying there with you as you come down from cloud 9
- all the cuddles and praises from him <3<3<3
- hed definitely teaches you how to touch yourself in later lessons!!!
- who knew you were such a nymphomaniac? Definitely not eddie, now that you knew what an orgasm was and how to get one you were like a bunny on viagra
- fucking in the churches bathroom, confession booth, the alter, on the balcony while your father is giving a speech.
"Y'think your god would like this? Huh? Think hed appreciate the devil fucking his perfect lil angel?"
-Luring you into a graveyard to smoke with him, getting all fuzzy minded and fucking under a tree. You would be drooling all over eachother, lazy humping and grinding
- I want him to force my head into the bed while he fucks me from behind !!!!!!!
- I want him to mock me when I'm crying about the over sensitivity when hes rutting into me!!!!!!!
"S'too much- s'too much- cant take it- it hurts- too sensitive Eddie-"
"I know baby I know, it's okay You can take it ,you're taking it right now. 'Supposed to hurt baby 'cuz you're taking all of me in your greedy lil cunt 'sucking me in baby 'Feels so good for me, making me feel so good right now. You think you can give me another? Huh? Think you can cum around my cock again?-"
"S'too much eddie! Cant cum anymore m'all empty-"
"Yes you can, you can cum for me baby. I can make you cum so good, lemme squeeze that last one out and I'll fill you back up, yeah? Want my cum to fill you? Want me to make you a mommy, hm? Want to explain to your loving father why you're full of the freaks babies? Ye? Y'make such a good mommy to our kids, such a good wife f'me"
- you know those blow jobs we were talking about? Ye? Well here's how they went
- he let you lay on the bed instead of on your knees on the hard floor, let you take your time exploring him (was probs smoking while you did this)
- would never make you take more than you could, would always teach you to take little by little, even if it meant not being able to fuck your mouth. yet.
- youd have your favourite place to suck, it was a long vein that traveled up his cock and ended near the tip, just under the head, and you would suckle on it as if it was nature's greatest creation.
-would let you drink up all the cum he produces. (Gobble that shit up yummy)
738 notes · View notes
sprout-fics · 10 months
Note
hey! imagine if Konig could scent Red during her period, like before she even knows about it? And he just goes crazy for her during that time? just a little brainworm :)
~🐸
Monthly snack
(Period sex, cunnilingus, blood, werewolf sex, I can’t believe I’m posting this let alone writing it, wtf is wrong with me for real)
“Please, Schatz.” He begs, head in your lap, arms wrapped around your hips as you perch on the edge of the bed. The glimmering gold of his eyes glints through the shadows of his hood, illuminating the darkened cast of need there. His massive hands knead into your back, cup under your ass, and you can feel the dull prod of his forming claws against his fingertips that will no doubt leave marks across your flesh come morning. 
“I-I want to taste you.” Konig pleads, voice high, keening, whining as he asks once more. “I’ll make it feel good, I…I promise.”
You teeth your lip uncertainly, fingers teasing the worn fabric of his hood between your fingers. It wasn’t that you were opposed, per say, but that the idea of Konig…involving himself in you while you bled was…well, embarrassing.
“It’ll help.” He tries again, voice strained, scooting closer to you. “It’ll make the pain go away. I…I want it.”
You blink then, at the pure desire that colors his voice, choked and needy as he all but throws himself into your lap to beg for it, to taste you despite it all, offering you pleasure like he worships you like an altar of the moon. Konig was always a little too aroused during the full moon, and those nights always ended with you on your back, on your hands and knees, fisting the russet fur of his back and shoulders and crying out for him until your lungs were fit to burst. Echoing his name over and over like an offering to the goddess Selena herself, crying into the night sky.
This. This was different. The need, the hunger in Konig’s eyes was no less rampant, but now it was softer at the edges, deferential as his eyes turned downwards, as he nuzzles into your lap with a bubbling little whine. When you lift his hood you can see his parted lips, can see his fangs just barely poking out from his teeth as they form a single word.
“Please.”
You hold your breath for a moment, feel it curl warm and damp inside your chest as you look down at him, into his glimmering eyes with pupils eclipsing all but a faint ring of gold. Konig’s chest rises unevenly, breathing in stuttering, ragged inhales that tell the tale of a barely restrained lust, a ravenous desire that you think will let him swallow you whole.
When you nod, he surges upwards, knocks teeth against yours in the sudden urge to kiss you. His fangs skim over your lips as you taste his high, cracked whine across your tongue. Yet there’s no time for you to kiss back, to loop your arms around his broad shoulders because suddenly you’re being tipped back, body hitting the soft goosefeather mattress hard enough to force the air from your lungs. 
Konig has your underwear gone by the time you look up, his hood tossed alongside them so you can see his shift beginning to take hold. Large, pointy ears form from the soft, curly bed of his hair, fangs drawing outwards with his elongated muzzle, the hands gripping your thighs shifting, morphing into the monster that had nearly devoured you so many moons ago, and now seems fit to do it again. 
The soft fabric of your skirt puddles around your waist and you yelp as Konig lifts you up with immense, monstrous strength, hauling you up to meet him. Your hips rise high off the bed, the small of your spine barely grazing the sheets as you’re tipped at a severe angle to accommodate his massive size. Your legs fold over his shoulders, the hair tickling the inside of your calves, entrance exposed clearly to his hungry, wolf-ish gaze. 
“Gott im Himmel.” He groans, voice deeper, rougher, a tone no human can muster. “You smell so good, liebling.”
You smell like blood, you think. The scent hangs heavy and iron in the air as you fist the sheets, feeling your face warm to an uncontrollable temperature that sears down your neck, across your shoulders and chest. Quandary colors your expression, and you lift an arm to toss across your face, hiding you from his gaze in your embarrassment. 
“No.” He growls, and there’s the prick of claws against the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at me. I want to see you, want to see your face while I do this.”
You comply, but your brow is knotted with a mixture of shame and need that spools warm and liquid under his gaze. When you meet his eyes Konig merely growls at the arousal he finds there, pressing his snout against the junction of your thighs and relishing the high, arching gasp that escapes you. 
“K-Konig-” You try, and you aren’t even sure what to ask for. To leave you be? To take you how he wants? Maybe simply to eat you alive.
Yet Konig does exactly that, the warm, broad stripe of his tongue pressing flat against you and you cry out, feel pleasure lace across your hips and dull the bite of cramps that press down on your womb. 
“Just like that.” He tells you, voice obscured by a dark, grinding rumble that drags from the hollow of his chest. “Just like that, Schatz. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you, want to hear how good I can make you feel.”
Your chest rises in ragged, gasping inhales as Konig sets about his task, the width of his tongue circling your clit, your entrance, the sharpness of his teeth occasionally grazing across the insides of your thighs. There’s a coiling tightness in the core of you that brightens with every swipe of his tongue, every vibration of his feral, untamed noises grunted against you. 
You arch against the bed, whimper and mewl for him, sweat making your clothes cling damp to your form as the climax inside you only builds, forces itself higher and higher until it’s fit to burst you at the seams. Yet when Konig forces his tongue inside you every nerve within your body seems to light on fire, and you come across his tongue with a shout, calves locking behind his broad neck as you try and contort yourself to push up, onto his muzzle. 
You can feel yourself flutter around him as you come down, and when he pulls back you whine, a touch overstimulated and raw. The world feels hazy around you, your eyes lidded and lip swollen with your teething. Yet Konig takes only one look at you and huffs, clearly pleased, adjusting your legs across the broad, furry planes of his shoulders before lowering his streaked muzzle to you once more. 
“Moon is still rising, liebling.” He purrs. “We’re not done yet.”
627 notes · View notes
itstheoneshot · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 27
Aphrodisiacs - Yeosang
!dom Yeosang
Tumblr media
Yeosang was smart, so much smarter than he gave on. He did research, as did you, science, natural remedies, plants that could alter your state, and his current fascination was with chemicals that increase your libido.
“Drink up,” He urges you, “I promise, it tastes good.”
You lift the cup to your mouth, the sweet aroma fills your nostrils as you let the liquid enter your mouth. Hot tea, herbal, a concoction created by the man sitting across from you who is consuming the same beverage. He was correct, it did taste good, warming your insides immediately. Yeosang reaches over to take your hand, staring at you lovingly at first… and then hungrily.
You were sceptical that a few herbs, leaves and spices could make you feel this way, but your cheeks warm up from not just the temperature, and that warmth continues downwards, tingling, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end, and alerting you to the source and centre of that heat.
“Come,” Yeosang murmurs, “Finish it.”
There was only a mouthful left, and you drink it quickly before placing the now empty cup down on the table. Yeosang squeezes your hand gently, feeling that same warmth, his eyes focus in on the way that you lick your lips to catch a stray droplet before he looks up at you again. It is exciting, partaking in his little experiments when they benefit you just as much as it does him.
“This was different to the last one,” You observe, “What should I expect?”
Yeosang chuckles, “Just feel it, my love… just let your body feel the way that it makes you.”
You follow Yeosang out of the dining room and barely make it a metre down the hall before you really begin to understand. Drawn to him more than usual, are you imagining this? Yeosang feels it too, turning you to face him with ease and stepping you back up against the wall with a fiery kiss, a warning of what is about to come. He is eager, dragging you down the hallway without pulling away, it is messy and desperate, each second apart is too long, he needs you and you need him now.
Finally reaching your bedroom, in an attempt to take control you pull him down on top of you, but not thinking it through, you have given him all of the power. With him hovering over you, your legs spread apart to give him space between them just so that you can wrap them around him, desperately trying to get him closer as if there were any space between you in the first place. Your hands slip under his shirt, needing it off him, needing to feel those perfectly sculpted muscles, a request which he happily obliges, only pulling back from the kiss for a moment to remove the clothing before he begins to work on yours. You don’t know which of you is more attracted, obsessed, and you swear you have never needed him like this before.
“Holy shit.”
It takes mere minutes to be fully undressed, you are already dripping, and Yeosang is rock hard, as he enters you without preparation, but you didn’t need it anyway. He fills you up, but again, this time it feels different. Increased pleasure, increased attraction, was this really all from a single cup of homemade herbal tea? You cry out his name as he pulls back to thrust into you again, letting your legs fall so that you can use your strength to lift yourself up and give him a better angle to fuck you in. Your back is arched and he reaches depths that he could not normally, his eyes roll back in his head and low moans leave him in harmony with yours of a much higher pitch.
“Good girl,” He praises you, “Do you believe me now?”
You weren’t really sceptical, you knew that there had to be some merit to the drink, and all the ingredients in it, maca root, ginseng, yin yang huo, what else was there again? but you had no idea that it would work so well. He fucks into you hard and fast, keeping you on edge for so long that you fear you are going to go crazy.
“Yes,” You nod enthusiastically, quickly remembering to answer him, “Yes, Yeosang, oh fuck, yes!”
The focus of his kisses soon move from your lips, to your jaw, and down your neck. They move back up, right to your ear, heavy breathing against it has your mind racing, vision blurring, you have got to be close. Your fingers tangle in his long black hair, soft to the touch, everything feels different now, in the best way possible. His skin is soft and smooth, muscles more… hard, veiny, and oh god, his cock, curved just a little, each thrust into you helps you up, up, up, and over… orgasming in his arms, so overwhelmed that you start to cry from the intensity of the pleasure. One orgasm leads to two, three, again you feel that nothing has ever felt this fucking good. You need him like oxygen, and you could go for hours if your body allowed it.
You are practically screaming when Yeosang finally pulls out, his hand racing to his cock to pump it only a few times before he releases, the force of his load so hard that it reaches your neck. Watching him while your own legs shake with the aftershocks of your high, mind still racing, body still reeling from the help that you had, it is too much, and you are already counting down for another round. You glance down at your body, stomach and chest slicked with his seed, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. Yeosang leans down to kiss you, not caring about the mess, just wanting to be with you, unable to be apart. It is hot, the hottest you have ever felt, not quite sure if you can find the words to describe it.
“I hope you kept that recipe,” You murmur in between a deep kiss, “I will definitely want us to drink that again.”
———
kinktober masterlist
289 notes · View notes
vanfleeter · 7 months
Text
The Old Oak Tree // JTK
Tumblr media
Characters: Jake x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. Tiniest bit of angst, you can see it if you squint really hard. Language. Cussing. Smut. Penetrative sex (p in v). Unprotected sex. Public sex. Oral sex (m receiving). Let me know if I missed anything.
Author's Note: Jaketober continues!
Summary: Jake invites the reader to join him in a picnic date underneath an old oak tree from your childhoods and reminiscing over past memories and also creating new ones.
Tumblr media
The red, orangey colored leaves slowly fall from the old oak tree. One by one, each of them flutter to the ground. Jake picks one up after it lands on his thigh and twists the stem between his thumb and index finger. There’s a slight breeze that blows his hair and brings a sweet scent wafting by his nose. He turns his head to look behind him to see you approaching. He smiles and starts to stand to his feet before you stop and come down to his level. You crossed your legs in front of you as you sat down on the blanket.
“Thank you for coming.” He smiles. He offers you a clear plastic cup of apple cider. “I would’ve used the fancy glasses but I didn’t trust myself to not drop them.”
You giggle and happily take the drink. “It’s been a while since we’ve been out here,” You say as you look around. “We used to come out here all the time.”
He nods his head and takes a drink of his own cider. “We have some fond memories out here,” He says. “Remember when we first found this tree?”
You smile and nod your head. “Yeah, I remember that. We were out here exploring when you spotted it. You said the way the branches weaved made it look like spider webs. You immediately grew attached to it and we both decided that it was our tree.”
“I wonder if I could uproot it and bring it to our house.”
You scoff and shake your head. “And I’m sure you’d find a way.” You say.
He chuckles and takes another drink of the cider. “Remember our first kiss here?” He says. “After homecoming.”
Your cheeks grow warm and he softly laughs. “You wanted to make the whole night romantic. From the intricately arranged corsage with my favorite flowers to making sure the DJ played our song and then sneaking us out here only for you to finally get over your shyness and kiss me.”
Jake rolls his eyes with a smile. “You could have kissed me first too, you know.” He says.
“I was sixteen, Jake. I was scared that even though you liked me, you didn’t like me enough to want to kiss me.”
He shakes his head and reaches out for you. He cups his hand around your cheek and leans in close enough for you to feel his breath against your lips and smell the cider he’s been drinking. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you. Ever since we first held hands, all I ever thought about was kissing you. I imagined your lips feeling as soft as your hands.”
“Were they soft?” You question.
He smiles and nods his head. His eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Mmhmm..” He hums before closing the tiny gap between you two and connecting his lips to yours. He pulls away after a few seconds. “Still are..”
You giggle and slightly push on his shoulder. He smiles and reaches for your hand and begins to lightly rub his thumb over your knuckles.
“I also remember the day we broke up underneath this tree.” He chuckles. “Senior year, the band was picking up more traction and we started drifting.. I was so busy with the band and you worked a lot to help with the bills..”
You sadly nod your head. “Yeah.. That was the worst.” You say. “It sucked ass.. I think I cried so much that day that I dehydrated myself.” You scoff. “I thought I was so pathetic crying over you. At the time it was just a high school relationship, why was I so upset about it?”
You hear him humming and he squeezes your hand. “Yeah.. But then.. We ran into each other again–what, a couple years after graduation?”
You nod your head. “Yeah.. The four of you came back after touring for so long and somehow the two of us ended up back here.”
He nods his head and lifts his chin to look up at the nearly bare branches of the tree. “I found myself coming out here to clear my head,” He says. “Life had gotten so chaotic that I needed an escape.. So that one day, I snuck away from all of the family stuff that was going on and came here to find some peace and quiet–and then I saw you.”
The sun disappears behind a big cloud so Jake lifts his sunglasses from his eyes and perches them on top of his head.
“You were just sitting there with a notebook and you were writing furiously, so consumed by your thoughts that you didn’t even know I was there until my foot snapped a tree branch.”
“I was scared shitless..”
He chuckles. “You looked like you had seen a ghost.” He says. “Though I expected nothing less.. It was nearing Halloween and the woods do get pretty creepy out here at night.”
“Wasn’t that the night we got back together?” You ask.
“Mmhmm, yeah,” He says, still rubbing your knuckles, more so the knuckle of your left ring finger. “I confessed to you that I never stopped thinking about you and loving you. How I wished we never broke up and at least tried to make it work. And then I boldly kissed you while expecting you to just slap me..”
“But I didn’t..”
“No, you didn’t.” He smiles. “Thank you for that by the way.”
“And since then we’ve been together.”
“I never want to be apart from you again.” He says. “I uh,” He clears his throat. “There’s a reason I asked you to meet me here.”
“The picnic wasn’t all of it?” You ask.
He shakes his head. Leaning over towards the basket, you watch him as he fishes inside for something. “I swear if I forgot it..”
“Forgot what, Jake?” You say with a hint of a giggle.
“Aha!” He exclaims and retracting his hand from the basket.
A soft gasp falls from your mouth when you spot a little black box in his hand. “Jake..”
“I’ve been itching to do this for months now but none of the times I thought I wanted to do it felt right. I wanted to make this special. Just the two of us, alone.”
He pops open the box and there, cushioned inside is the ring you’ve dreamed of having. One that you texted him a photo of after he had asked what you would if he ever did propose. You knew this was happening, it was just the matter of when was what you didn’t know.
“I won’t go into a full speech because you know all there is to know about my love for you. So..” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Under this tree, our tree, will you accept this ring and join me in making even more memories here? I want you with me forever, on every journey.”
You never speak a word. Instead you’re throwing your arms around his neck, tackling him backwards onto the blanket. His laughter rings in your ears as his arms catch you.
“I take that as yes?” He questions.
“Yes, yes, yes.” You say before kissing him.
He pulls his arms back and takes the ring out of the box. “May I?”
“Uh duh..” You say, giving him your hand.
He chuckles and slips the ring on your finger. “Right where it should always be.” He breathes.
You smile and lean down to kiss him. “You know the one thing we haven’t done under this tree?” You ask when you pull your lips apart.
“No?” He says with his eyebrows creased together. Then they smooth out and raise high on his forehead. “Oh.. You naughty girl. What if someone sees us?”
“Says the man who fucked me on the hotel balcony in Brazil.”
He chuckles and moves his hands down to squeeze your ass as he pushes his hips up against yours. “That was a wild night.” He says.
“Yes well, this time it won’t be wild,” You say. “I want to make love to you, Jacob. Take our time–really make this tree ours.”
Tumblr media
All wrapped up the blankets, he takes his time with you. Nothing rushed, no need to reach the end. He thrusts in you at a slow pace. One arm rests beside your head while the other holds your leg around his hip.
He leans down to kiss you as he entangles his hand with yours.
“Jake..” You whisper.
“Mmhmm?”
“Go faster.”
“Don’t want to take our time?”
You shake your head. “Fuck Jake, I really need you.”
He smiles and kisses you again before picking up his speed. The friction sending both of you closer to your climax. He leans down and peppers your jaw with kisses as his hips snap in you relentlessly.
“Baby.. I need to..” His voice trails off and he bites his lip. “Fuck.. I can’t..”
He reaches between the two of you and rubs his thumb over your clit. Your back arches into him as you moan. “Fuck Jake..”
“Come with me baby..”
With a few more thrusts he’s empty inside of you as you cover him. “Oh god, oh fuck..” He mutters, dropping his head on your shoulder. Soon he pulls out of you and rolls onto his back to lay beside you before he drags you over. You rest your head against his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair. “If I’m being honest,” He says after a few minutes. “Any memory we make here after this, won’t ever be able to top it.”
You giggle and pick up your head to look at him. “You think so?”
“I know so,” He chuckles. “We’ve held hands under this tree, we’ve kissed under this tree, and got engaged. But sex? I really can’t think of anything that could top that.”
“So you’re saying our engagement isn’t the best thing to happen here?”
You go to sit up but he quickly pulls you back down and holds you tightly. “No.. No.. I didn’t say that.” He says. “Our engagement was special and I’ll be thinking about it forever.”
“Mmhmm..”
He laughs and you sit back up. “Well.. Maybe I can think of one more thing that might make this place memorable.”
“Oh yeah? What would that be?”
“The best blow job you’ve ever had.” You say raising your eyebrows.
“Oh?”
You smile before sliding down his body and beneath the covers.
“Oh..” He moans when he feels your mouth wrapping around his cock. His back arches and his hand grip at the blanket beneath him. “Oh fuck..”
Everything good happens beneath the old oak tree.
Tumblr media
taglist:
@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @thetroublegetssoloud71 @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @jordie-gvf-admin @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr
If you would like to be added to the tag list, please reach out! ❤️
If I missed you on the list, please remind me!
If your user is not highlighted, I do apologize--tumblr acts like a butt 😫
204 notes · View notes
deluluduck227 · 5 months
Text
how to deal with a pregnant woman? |Hakim ZIYECH
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary : Situations when Hakim knew exactly how to deal with his pregnant wife
Words count: 870 (the longest)
Tumblr media
Being seven months pregnant, your hormones took the best of you. You literally cried river or when you couldn’t pick up the remote lying on the floor because of your bump. But all through this, your husband always helped you. Hakim always made sure that you felt loved and he never even let you lift a finger.
"Donut needs a friend!"
You were chilling in the living room, and a cover was shielding your body from the cold weather, Donut, your cat was lying just beside the extremities of your legs. Wiggling his tail from time to time, he annoyed Hakim who was lying on the couch, too busy playing 'Call of Duty' on his phone. While all your attention was on the television, one of your favorite movies was playing 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'. The number of times you've watched it is uncountable yet it never failed to make you enjoy it. The familiar smell of the diner that Hakim took charge of cooking was making you so eager to put it in your mouth. All of these circumstances were more than enough to make you comfy, happy which you were! But looking at Donut who was trying to sleep, he looked "tired, gloomy, and downhearted" only from your point of view. You realized that your dear cat was feeling lonely and there's nothing you could do about it and what made it worse was you realizing that he's gonna die. This brought tears to your eyes as you were now crying silently. Your loud sobbing grabbed your husband's attention and as soon as he acknowledged you were crying he approached you at the speed of light. " Hey babe what's wrong?" He divulged, the worry was clear on his face as he cupped your face, his warm thumbs wiping the tears gently. " Donut's gonna die!" He quickly switched his gaze to the cat who was grooming his paws indifferently. "What do you mean? He seems very fine to me!" " No, you don't understand" you sniffled " He's gonna die one day!" " Babe, the average age of cats is 14 years. Donut's still young, he's gotta a good 12 years ahead to live!" He tried to comfort you with his deep warm voice. " Exactly! He doesn't even know how short his life is." You murmured, hiccuped breaths were interrupting your speech occasionally. The whole situation seemed funny for Hakim yet he didn't laugh because he knew it would hurt. He just wrapped his arms around your shoulders while you put your head on his chest, your breaths matching the steady pace of his heartbeat until you progressively calmed down. " Get me another cat!" You interrupted the silent moment you've just had. " You want another cat?" You nodded. "But I think Donut is enough for us!" " He needs a companion, I can feel it from her eyes! "Your last remark made a smile beam through his face as he raised his eyebrows as if he was making sure he heard you just right and you nodded to assure it. " I just imagined him being alone this whole time. Babe, what if he feels left out because the baby is born and then he feels like he's not the baby anymore?" Hakim was just listening to his pregnant wife, he got used to these breakouts by now and he knew exactly how to deal with them. "Don't worry munchkin, We'll get Donut a friend !"
Cranvings and relief
Hakim was watching as you were stirring the soup. You craved some Moroccan Harira and since he was not the best cook you chose to do it yourself, and he insisted on helping you. He's been enjoying watching you waddling around with your huge baby bump and pouty lips. On days when it's too much for you to handle, he'd stop enjoying it. He admits that he'll miss the pregnant you but what to do? "Stop staring like that and mix this! Put those arms in use." You were pointing at the bowl that had some flour and water. It was necessary to make the soup more viscous. "I mean what can I do? You're adorable pregnant!" He teased you, already started to mix the ingredients, and poured them into the harira. "This !" You pointed to your bump as you continued." It is your fault! You seduced me into this!" You earned a loud laugh from him as he resumed stirring the ready soup. "Well, I did it after your acceptance!" He spoke knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You couldn't bear the backache anymore as you leaned on the counter searching for relief. And that's when Hakim knew exactly how to deal with this situation. " Babe, stand straight for me." He demanded gently as you felt his presence behind. You applied, furrowing your eyebrows. His hands sneaked under your bump as he crossed his fingers tightly, lifting your bump. The relief you felt was undescribable, you never felt this light in months. "Babe, this feels so good. I can't imagine I survived all this period without these hacks." " I know I know, don't be surprised when you gotta a talented man like me! Now go sit I'ill serve dinner." You nodded as you turned to peck him quickly.
Tumblr media
i know i already wrote a hakim fanfic with a pregnancy trope but what can i do he's the fittest to my imagines
103 notes · View notes
urtheloml · 1 year
Text
my love (boundless, cosmic, never-ending)
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader w/c: 2.1k synopsis: watching Everything Everywhere All At Once makes you think of the theory of a multiverse. your boyfriend isn't too pleased. a/n: idk i just thought bakugou would immediately tell you stfu if you told him to imagine an alternate universe that didn't have you in it hwhwhwhe <3 also: happy new year! i posted four times,,?? in 2022,, that's soo wild 4 me teehee :p anyway thanks for the support ily happy 2023
Tumblr media
A crescendo rings, it echoes throughout the room and the sound bounces off the walls in your living room. The credits of the movie roll, the title 'Everything Everywhere All at Once' a stark white against the black background and if you squint, you can just barely catch your wide-eyed expression on the TV screen. Bakugou lifts his head off the couch arm, his face indented with lines from pressing into the leather. The room is filled with total silence, because holy shit.
"Babe, that was the greatest movie I've ever seen in my life. Like, ever." 
Bakugou snorts, but he doesn't disagree, and he probably refrains from answering verbally because he doesn't want you to hear how scratchy his voice sounds. Even though you definitely saw him get teary-eyed, he refuses to acknowledge that he cried during the film.
It would be stupid to poke fun at your boyfriend though because if his eyes are just barely red, yours are practically bloodshot and swollen. How could you, or him, not cry? The film was centred around immigrant parents learning how to grow, how to accept their children and apologising in their own ways. It was bound to happen.
Bakugou gets up and you let your legs stretch out, laying down fully on the couch. He shuffles around the room, picking up stray pieces of popcorn that you both threw at each other during the movie. He switches the TV off, puts the bowls and cups in the sink and washes them for you too. All the while, your mind thinks about the theory of a multiverse, thinks about Katsuki and how different things could've been.
When he returns, he rolls his eyes at the sight of your wet cheeks. A hand, big enough to capture both your ankles, lifts your feet up and Bakugou sets them back down in his lap. Absent-mindedly, he starts stroking your legs, calming you down, like you were a cat and not a human. 
"Why are you still crying? The movie's been over for ten minutes, you loser."
You can't really be bothered to call him something mean, not when your mind is working faster than your mouth and wide-eyed, you blurt out, "Kats, if the multiverse theory does exist, you realise that there's a universe where you and I never met? Or one where you and I hate each other and will never have what we have now- ow!"
The soft ministrations on your leg turn into a pinch, the skin stinging between his two fingers. Bakugou cuts off your rambling by doing so, and he eases the pain over with a kiss, like it never happened at all. He clicks his tongue, "Stop it, you know I fuckin' hate it when you start saying shit like that."
But you can't stop, your mind is whirring at speeds impossible thinking about every single life that he's not in with you. It makes you ache, makes you start saying stupid things like, "No, listen, Katsuki like it's an infinite multiverse, babe. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it but it's true so I think it's justifying me crying a bit 'cause in some life, you and I- hmprh!"
And suddenly, you're being pulled upright and Bakugou's covering your mouth with his hand, something that always takes you by surprise because it's so calloused but still so warm and it's such a contrast to his exterior, and he looks at you dead in the eyes and says quietly (steadily), "It's not true. It doesn't exist and it won't fuckin' ever."
Unbeknownst to you, in the midst of your rant that couldn't have lasted more than five seconds, Bakugou's traitorous mind assaults him with snapshots of what his life could've been without you in it. The moment you mentioned it, he saw it. He saw a life where there wasn't you by his side. 
A meaningless existence where someone didn't drool on his shoulder on the couch, where someone didn't insist on holding hands even when it was hot out, where someone didn't take the time to pry him open and let him be loved as much as he loved them.
He saw it— living with your absence. How dull and colourless it would've been without you there for him to hold or to kiss in the mornings and afternoons and at nighttime. He let the foolish image of a life devoid of your traces play out in his mind, and it lasted no longer than a millisecond but he hated it. Living with no one to cook eggs for in the morning, waking up in a bed that wasn't warmed by you and going to sleep without letting you sink into him. It was moronic, incredulous, and it baffled him to even think about it.
He thinks of the time you forced him to look away from what he was cooking, just to dance in your small kitchenette to whatever song was playing in the background. There was no room to really sway you and his elbows kept knocking into the cupboards and he couldn't stop the grin from taking over his face. 
You had laughed and it sounded like everything he ever wanted.
He burnt the food, you ate it anyway. He thinks of a life where the food had been cooked perfectly, and he would've had to eat it alone and it would've tasted bland and flavourless anyway. Nothing would've mattered, not one achievement or goal he reached, none of it would ever matter in any lifetime across any universe if you weren't right there beside him.
Bakugou releases you, letting you fall back onto the couch with a huff. He pokes and squeezes your legs, biting the inside of his cheek to try to cleanse his mind of the foul images he was forced to think of. Your eyes track every movement he makes, softening at the sight of him being so genuinely upset about this. He wears his heart on his sleeve, he plasters it to his big forehead and when you're around, he forces it into your hands and you're not about to break it now. 
A breathless giggle slips from your mouth, and you manoeuvre your body so your head lays atop his lap now. He's pouting, and he doesn't hesitate before running his fingers through your hair, combing through any tangles. It's his love language, you know that.
You try to say something, anything to salve over the sour expression on his face. But he must have had the wrong idea because before you start to run your mouth, Bakugou covers your mouth again, against your muffled protestations. He glares at you from above and leans down to talk.
"I'm serious, shut the fuck up, because it's not fuckin’ true. I don't give a fuck if the multiverse is infinite, there'll never be a universe that exists in which I wouldn't fuckin’ love you. Because if every choice I make leads to another verse then there's nothing I wouldn't fuckin’ do to make sure that in every single life I have, I'd end up with you."
Oh.
You feel silly now that he said that. The fact that you even considered such an outrageous idea was stupid. You forget who you're dealing with. You forget that there are two of you, and the universe is no match against the force that is Bakugou Katsuki. What he wants, he gets. And it's no secret that he really only ever wanted you.
"You said it yourself, it's infinite. So it's not implausible that there'd be multiple versions of myself tracking down every life where there wasn't an us. I'd still love you, always, even if I didn't know you yet, so I'll just have to get myself to find you in every single life. Everywhere, anywhere— I'll find you, I promise."
Oh. 
"So, if God forbid, there was such a cruel universe that you and I never met, then I'd jump verses for us and make us meet. Simple as that. You need me to use bigger words to get it through your thick skull, huh? Me and you, we're- we're boundless, cosmic, never-ending. It was always meant to be, the two of us. So stop fuckin' crying already, the only thing that's actually infinite here, is you and I, alright?"
Your eyes glass over, and then it shatters but you're tearing up for completely different reasons now. Not unexpectedly, Bakugou's right. He always is, and that's not unusual. Not when he says things like that, not when he shuts down every doubt you ever had in your head with a few simple words.
Reaching up to slip a hand behind his hair, you cradle his head in your palm. Bakugou relaxes, lets his cheek press into your palm and watches the affection dance in the colour of your eyes. You press a kiss into his palm, the one covering your mouth still, and watch the tip of his ears blush. He removes his hand then, letting it rest on your stomach.
He's right, of course he is. You let the worthless thoughts of the possibility of him and you ever ceasing to exist pour out of your mind. The ever-consuming fondness, the warmth associated with Katsuki and the love you have for him— it all takes up more than enough space in your head and in your heart. It leaves no room for any uncertainty.
But you're just as hot-headed and stubborn as he is, and you refuse to let him have the last word. And so you let your teeth sink into your lip, biting back a wild grin, you pull him down quickly by his hair. Kissing Katsuki never gets old, you think. It's always the same warm pair of lips against yours; a familiar dance.
So you lose yourself in the moment— you let Katsuki kiss you all soft and slow and lasting. He licks into your mouth and it shouldn't be as sweet as it is but it feels like it anyway. Laughter bubbles out of you, unbidden but not unwanted, and he grins against your mouth. 
The whole situation was ridiculous, how a simple question had spiralled into Bakugou confessing his quite literal undying love for you. It was both so in and out of character of him that you had to giggle. He wasn't fazed by your interruption, he smiled all the same against your mouth, kissing you despite your open mouth and laughter. 
And later, when the sun recedes and the moonlight pours into your window, it'll be quiet in the room Bakugou sleeps in with you. The only noise coming from the creaky ceiling fan. His arm finds its place, as always, around your middle— holding you like a heartbeat (constant, everpresent).
In the solitude under your covers, you find yourself admiring a privilege you never really realised you had. Bakugou's fast asleep next to you, his blonde unruly hair fans out against his pillow not like a halo. He's not that graceful, but his usually scrunched-up face was now relaxed. His expression is void of anything tense, practically defenceless laying next to you.
You weren't lying when you said he wore his heart on his sleeve. He's harsh and intimidating to the public eye, but when it comes to you, all his walls go down. It's unnecessary to be so guarded with you, not when he trusts you with his life, though he won't say it (he doesn't need to).
It's inexplicable, the way you feel your chest clench looking at him. It's a privilege; to get to be loved by him and to love him in return. It's something you take for granted, and you won't say it out loud lest you upset him again, but you think of a different life in which you're not allowed to do this. A life where Katsuki wouldn't tenderly kiss you on a beaten-up couch, where he wouldn't tangle his legs in between yours and fall asleep next to you. It's pointless to think about. He said it himself, it'll never happen anyway.
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you lean over him and press a soft, lingering kiss to his hair. Bakugou smiles, and you lean in closer to whisper very softly, so you won't wake him, "I promise, I'll find you as well. Anywhere, everywhere, in all my lives, okay?"
Katsuki has a sixth sense, a you-sense, and he's sound asleep but somehow he understood what you've just said. He tightens his arm around your waist unconsciously, and you feel relentlessly and irrevocably in love with him, even though it's been so long, the feeling never wavers or wanes. It stays buzzing in your veins, a constant ebbing flow.
You fall asleep quietly.
Tumblr media
490 notes · View notes
gxthicwxrm · 1 year
Note
maybe, if you do a part 5, I could see aegon and aemond PRAISING their pregnant wife like crazy.
Say It (Part 5) - The Heir
Tumblr media
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Aegon II Targaryen x reader.
Word Count: 2,867
Warning: pregnancy, birth, blood
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Six
Authors Note: I'm so sorry this took so long to come out. I've been so busy with work and holidays! But I am back with a new chapter! I hope you all love it!
---
"I don’t care if it’s a boy. I hope you know I expect no duty regarding our children.” Aegon’s voice breaks through the silence, lifting his head from your lap with truthful eyes. His sudden admission shocks you. You have never discussed his succession, too focused on keeping our heads and the throne than on the future. His hands rub your smooth, swollen belly before kissing your bump. Smiling at you, he winks, and butterflies erupt in your stomach as heat fills your face at his affection.
“Nor do I, my love.” Aemond mumbles behind you with his chest pressed against his back while he leads against the headboard. The younger brother snuggles into your neck, closing his eyes as he takes in your scent. 
“I am glad because I’ve had dreams of a baby girl the last two moons." You confess, not understanding the weight of dreams for House Targaryen. "I was worried since we never talked about the gender of the baby.” Your mentioning of dreams sends Aegon flying from your lap, cupping your face while Aemond shifts, with you now sitting, facing them both.
“Dreams? What dreams? Tell me, sweetheart.” Aegon’s frantic words come out calm as his wide eyes look over you. Behind Aegon’s shoulder, Aemond silently nods, wishing to hear the answer his brother asked.
“Please,” Aegon begs, making you giggle at his sudden desperation. Nodding, you explain your dreams to them.
“It’s always in flashes, never a whole thing. It's just flashes of red, green, and black. Most of it is just a blur of colors. But some images are more clear.”  You admit both of the boys’ eyes widen as their imagination begins to go wild. Red. Green. Black. The two men share a worried look before turning back to you. 
“Go on.” Aemond encourages with a gentle smile. Your hand finds Aegon’s cheek while your other reaches for Aemond’s hand, who grabs yours with a smile. 
“Images of your mother running to me as I scream out. Blinding pain, then a loud, powerful cry. She is beautiful. Her eyes are as blue as your sapphire, her hair bright like the snow of the North. I don’t know how but she has a fire never seen before, unmatched by any dragon before her. I swear it to the Gods.” Finishing your description, you realize both of your husbands have tears in their eyes as they stare at you, jaws ajar. Aemond is the first to break from their trance. He shifts closer to you, leaning his forehead against your bump, kissing the spot above your belly button. 
“My fierce girl.” He whispers to your abdomen, eyes closed as he imagines a little blonde girl running around with a makeshift stick-turned-sword, training with him. Reading to his little girl and teaching her how to control her dragon. Warm spreads through his chest as a tear slides down his cheek. Pulling away, he looks at Aegon and knows his older brother is thinking the same thoughts as Aegon’s eyes are bloodshot and wet.
“She will be the most loved and protected little girl in all the Seven Kingdoms. I will have the head of anyone who dares speak ill of her, my wife.” Aegon declares. Being the more emotional one, his feelings speak in extremes that you know are true. Your heart fills with pride as you look at these two men devoted to you and the baby in your womb. 
“I love you more than any star in the night sky.” You stare at them in total admiration.
Suddenly, the door to your shared chambers swings open, revealing Cole. A growl leaves Aegon's throat as he throws his sheet over your bare body. 
"What?" Aemond glares daggers into the man in the doorway. Cole shifts his feet uncomfortably beneath Aemond's cold gaze.
"The Hand has requested both of you in the Council room. It is of the utmost importance." Cole looks strong, but his voice quivers slightly. Aemond moves from behind you, keeping the sheet to your chest before pulling his pants on, followed by his shirt, while Aegon isn't convinced he is needed, so he chooses to stay by your side in the bed.
"Tell him it can wait until tomorrow. I do not wish to rule today." Aegon dismisses the knight, burying his face back into your stomach, thumb ghosting over the spot your daughter had her foot pushing against your stomach, making her shift closer to her father's voice.
"It is about Dragonstone." Sir Cole's words make Aegon still before pulling himself off the bed, pecking your cheek before putting his clothes on. 
"Fuck" Aegon mutters to himself while tying his tunic, turning to you with worried eyes.
"I'm sorry, my love. We both wish we could stay in this room with you forever. But we will be back shortly," Aegon pecks you once more. Aemond kisses your lips with a soft smile before he and Aegon follow Cole, who stalks down the hall. 
Loneliness creeps in as the room goes silent, only the thought of your dream to keep you company. Rubbing your stomach, you drop your sheet and move to your wardrobe, pulling on your slip before sifting through the fabric. Quickly, your eye in a gorgeous emerald silk gown with blue lace embroidery that Alicent had gifted you at Aemond's and your wedding. Refusing to call the maids, you decide to walk.  Slowly, you fix your feet into the dress, grab the shoulders of the fabric, and pull the gown up your body. Everything goes smoothly as the shift stops halfway over your bell when you attempt to put your arms through the holes. Sharp pain in your abdomen shocks you causing you to drop the fabric with your hands flying to your stomach. 
After a few moments, the pain subsides as you resume putting your arms in the dress. With a triumphed humph, you congratulate yourself for being able to dress without help at nine moons pregnant. However successful, you were exhausted when you finished adjusting your dress. Using the nearest places to steady yourself, you walk toward Aemond's favorite reading chair by your fireplace. 
Leaning against the firm cushion, you think about what could've happened on Dragonstone. Fear fills your chest when you think of the awful plan Rhaenyra could have stored for your husbands and children. You'd like to hope that Rhaenyra, as a mother, would spare your children, but you know Daemon would not. 
Another stabbing pain fills your stomach, no longer in one place. Involuntarily, a scream leaves your throat as you clutch your stomach in pain before it dulls enough for you to think. 
"Something is wrong." Your cry falls upon only your ears as you try to get up from the chair, moving towards the door as you lean on the wall. Finally, you make it to the door and fling it open before spilling out of it, catching yourself on the cold corridor walls. The pain stalls enough for you to limp your way to the end of the hallway before another crash of agony hits you, flinging you to the ground as you feel hot liquid snake down your leg. 
"The baby is coming." You wail as you frantically reach for the wetness growing beneath you. Your heart freezes when your hand returns red, fingers soaking with your blood.
"No." You whisper before two soft hands grab your shoulders. Looking up through watery eyes, you make out the infamous emerald green dress of Alicent Hightower.
"My love?" Alicent questions, confused eyes finding yours before her owe drifts to your bloodied fingers.
Her worried eyes immediately fill with tears before her saddened expression hardens. 
"Someone get the masters! What are you all gawking for? Move!" Her tone demands attention and urgency, causing the poor servants of the Keep to scurry off.  Turning to face you, Alicent's features are less harsh but scared nonetheless.
"Now, we need to get you back to bed. Maybe laying down might settle the babe. I'm sure you both are anxious to meet. Where are my sons?"  Alicent helps you to your feet, screaming at the maids while she guides you down the hallway you previously came from. Slowly, with tears down your reddened face, you try to walk beside Alicent but fail when your legs buckle underneath you as the stabbing pain returns. 
"Fuck." You scream as liquid gushes around your legs. Looking to Alicent, who kneels beside you, every ounce of bravery leaves you.
"I am scared." You whisper as the contraction begins to lessen its wrath. "  I don't think I can do this." Looking down at your swollen belly, you already felt like you failed the baby in your womb. 
"We never do, my Queen." She brushes the hair stuck to your face away before grabbing a black handkerchief from a maid with red hair and draping your head with a cool towel. 
"But, you are strong. You are strong, fierce like the dragon resting in your womb. You are a mother,  my dear. A mother of a dragon, so be one."  Another wave of pain washes over you, accompanied by immense pressure building. You knew you needed to push; your body was screaming for you to push. 
But you couldn't do this without your husbands, but you had no choice as the pressure became too much. Alicent guides you to get on your hands and knees, with a cool hand rubbing down your back. The older woman breathed with you through each contraction. The maester rushing into the chambers along with three of your closest maidens. 
"You may go now, milady." The older man nods to Alicent, who shoots him a cold glare, effectively silencing the man.
"I will not leave her side." She finishes, making the maester speechless. Her words fill you with warmth as you reach for her hand, which she quickly takes with a soft smile. The servant girls go to stand beside the maester who examines for any dangers.
"Everything looks normal, my Queen. But, your grace, you have to start pushing. I can see the babe. It's starting to come now." His words trigger blinding pain to fire back, immediately causing you to push as hard as possible. Screaming, your vocal cords vibrate in your throat as the pressure pulls through your core. A loud screech shakes through the Keep as tears fall down your face.
"You're almost there. You are doing so well. It's okay. Just breathe." Alicent coos as your grip tighten on her hand. Unflinching, the former Queen takes the pain and replaces it with a firm squeeze. 
Finally, the pressure releases as a wave of liquid that gushes out of you, followed by a loud, piercing cry. Relief looks through you as you hear your child cry. However, exhaustion settles into your bones as you drop from your position, leaning onto the wall. Behind you, the maester quickly assesses your baby before turning to you with a welcoming smile.
"Your Grace." He looks at you with a raised brow, a bundle of blankets in his hands. Silently, you extend your arms. Moving to you, he places the pile of fabric in your arms when two bright blue eyes stare at you. 
It's as if your world stopped at that moment. 
In your arms, your beautiful baby girl reaches up to you, and you reach back, holding her little hand in your own.
"Hello, my fierce girl. You're a fighter just like your daddies, aren't you?" You coo, your thumb rubbing her soft cheek before your heart breaks at the thought of her father. Looking up, your eyes find Alicent and Cole's, who look guilty as if they knew what you would ask.
"Where are my husbands?"
---
"We can't leave this land open. They will see that and ambush us. Daemon is smart; we can't underestimate him." Aemond explains, looking between Otto and Aegon. Aegon nods, agreeing with his brother, making Otto scoff.
"Daemon is an emotional child. He will do whatever destructive plan falls first into his thoughts." Otto dismisses the men before him, turning to sit at the Council table. 
"He's been at Harrenhal for six sunrises. People have seen Caraxes flying there. He's planning something, and he's willing to wait whatever it is out-" Suddenly, the Council door flies open, revealing a horrified maid.
"What is the meaning of this? That door remained to be shut and locked! No one to enter, especially without knoc-" Otto smacks the table, glaring at the girl.
"It's Y/N, your Grace. " That was all she needed to say for the King and the Prince to begin to follow her. However, Otto moves in front Of them, blocking the door.
" No one will leave this room until this matter is settled." Otto spats at grandsons. Silently, Aegon closes the distance between himself and the old man.
"And who is going to stop us?" Aegon's tone is murderous, alarming both his brother and grandfather. The two men eye each other before Otto quietly moves out of their way. Rushing down the halls, they heard Vhagar's roar pierce through the castle, vibrating the walls. She sounded as if she was in pain. Fear filled Aegon and Aemond as they rushed through the halls toward your shared wing of the Castle.
Coming to your hallway, blood pools in the entryway, smearing halfway down the hall. The sight causes both men to stop, looking at each other before they run down your hall before practically spilling into your room and falling to the floor.
"Oh my." Alicent giggles from your side as you lay on the bed, leaning against your headboard, rocking your sleeping daughter in your arms.
"Are you okay? What has happened-" Aemond stops himself when he sees a bundle of cloth in your arms and tiredness on your face. "Did y-" His eye trained on the white-haired child sleeping in your arms; he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"There's someone who wants to meet the both of you." A sob cracks through Aegon's lips as he moves towards your side. Alicent moves, silently leaving the room to allow you three peace with your new baby.
Your husbands take place on each side of you. Your daughter sleeps peacefully in your arms, swaddled in a pale green blanket. 
"She's perfect." Aegon whispers. "Hi. I'm your father. Hi." He smooths down her blonde hair before placing a delicate kiss on her head. 
"Yes, she is. She's fierce too. Fought like hell. A tough youngling." Your answer. "Just like her fathers before her." 
Smiling, Aemond wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. Instantly, Aegon leans on your side, laying his head on your shoulder as the three of you watch the sleeping miracle you made.
"Thank you." Aemond's voice breaks through the contentment, his eye never leaving the baby. With a soft smile, you press your lips to his cheek, lingering slightly before pulling away. 
"For?" You question, Tilting your head as you examine your husband's face for an explanation. Chuckling, Aemond finally turns to face you.
"For this. For you, for her, for us. Even for Aegon. None of us would be here if it weren't for you, my beautiful wife. So, I thank you for making me the happiest person in Westeros." Aemond was not one to share his emotions so openly with anyone, especially in front of his brother, but he pushed through to pour his heart before your feet.
Leaning in, you connect your lips to his, and his hand moves to cup your face before your lips pull away, foreheads still touching. Silently, you close your eyes and absorb him. 
"If I may? I feel the same, baby. I could never repay the happiness you have given me today, the happiness both of you have given me." He pauses, taking a deep breath before starting again. "She's everything I imagined." Aegon's rushed whispers, laced with so much love and care, fill your heart with joy. 
"I love you both so much. I'd be lost without you. I should be thanking you for giving me your love and time. For giving me this gorgeous girl. For it all." Tears fall down your cheek as Aegon wipes them away, kissing your cheek before laying his head in the crook of your neck.
"I love you!" Aegon whispers, holding your sleeping daughter's hand around his index finger. Aemond's hand supports her feet as she lays in the corner of your elbow, rocking her slightly. 
---
"I love you." Aemond leans his head against yours while your eyes slowly begin to fall closed. Leaning back into your husband's, the three of you find yourself falling fast asleep with your daughter safely in your arms.
Part six coming soon !!
583 notes · View notes
sacharinee · 1 year
Text
cute moments i imagine with peter pt. 1!
pairing: peter parker x reader
wc: 2119
a/n: this is my first post pls be nice :( i have lots of cute n random moments i think about revolving around peter. one of them being abt him buying u a lego set only for him to build it and u to keep the finished product. i listened to new home (slowed) by austin farwell while making this and u should too! this was supposed to be a blurb thing but ig not- i hope you like it :)
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“okayyy, my turn!���
you’re even more excited when it comes down to peter’s beaming smile staring right at you, and you can’t help but return his contagious smile. you find yourself sitting in a circle on the floor among your dearest and closest friends on a friday night. ned, betty, mj, harry, and peter all join you for a little gathering you held for your birthday. 
you peer down at his perfectly wrapped gift; baby pink paper with tiny red ‘happy birthday!’ messages printed across the wrapping with a large white and dramatic ribbon on top conceals what you assume will be the best gift of the night. not because of how adorable the present set in front of you looks, but because it’s from peter. you love anything and everything from peter. 
you delicately lift the big rectangular box to your ear and lightly shake it, wondering what it could be as a curious expression paints your face. peter sits directly across from you with his ankles crossed and knees to his chest as his buff arms embrace himself. 
“did you get her one of those DIY craft mug kits, peter? god forbid she gets another mug to add to her hoarder collection” ned quips with a mouthful of pizza. “shut up, dude, i didn’t” he whispers. 
peter knows you’re touchy about the stockpile on your mugs. you enjoy the witty quotes and funny faces of tv star celebrities plastered on your coffee cups. 
“actually, no he’s right. i tried getting a glass from your cupboard the other day cause i was thirsty and a fucking mug fell out and shattered right next to me. the mugs in your cabinets are overflowing, it's a safety hazard” harry shakes his head in disapproval. mj remarks “since when do you care about safety-” “that was you?!” you shriek, wide-eyed. “you owe me a new ‘worlds best boss’ cup.” “what? i could have died!-”
“okay! just open it” peter smiles. a soft crimson flush covers his cheeks, obviously flustered with you and harry’s bickering. harry roll his eyes and pouts while he crosses his arms as everyone stares back at you.  
you turn your attention back to the mysterious gift before you. hesitantly, you untie the silk ribbon as it falls flat against the ground. you find yourself failing to hold back your blushing smile, nerves rush through your body and your excitement begins to increase. you carefully peel back the pretty wrapping paper as if you’d like to keep that too. soon enough, the box revealed has you gasping, eyes widening at the sight in front of you. 
“oh my- god! oh my god!” you squeal, rushing to unveil the entire box. once finally uncovered, you hold it up in front of you in awe. some of your friends gaze at the present confused as your eyebrows furrow in an attempt not to cry and your lips turn downward slightly. 
for a second, peter thinks you’re discontent with his gift, but it quickly fades as he understands your expression. you glance back at him; you think he’s so beautiful like this. with his eyes crinkling because of his wide smile stretched across his face, he relishes the moment, proud that he’s the reason he makes you feel like this. 
you sniffle and quickly drag your knees across the carpeted floor with your large gift barely holding on in your left hand. peter brings his knees to his sides and opens his arms as you fall into him. you feel his strong arms wrap around you, yours linked around his neck and peter begins to fall backward, with you laying flat against his chest. yours and peter’s giggles fill the room and you forget that it's not just the two of you in that room. peter doesn’t even seem to struggle with the fact that your entire body weight rests on top of him. 
his gentle and loving dark eyes gaze into yours and it tells you everything you ever needed to know. you are so unconditionally in love with him as he is with you. your faces are leveled perfectly against each other and you can see everything up close; though it’s nothing you’ve never seen before. his long thick lashes, his smile lines, his funky left eyebrow, his soft freckles across his nose and cheeks; you would count every single one of them if he’d let you. peter lifts his fingers to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. 
a loud cough interrupts you two.
you’re quick to roll off of him and plop on the space beside him. “what is it?” betty questions. you quickly glance around the circle, not missing mj’s knowing small smile and raised eyebrows.
ned and harry gasp. you show your gift off to everyone, “it’s a lego set!” you excitedly beam. mj and betty give you adoring smiles. you gleam back at peter, “i’ve been wanting this for forever” you gush, “how’d you know?”
“when my laptop broke down and you let me use yours,” he begins, “i wasn’t trying to peek but you had like a million tabs open- which you really shouldn’t because it could lead to a lot of technical problems down the road with your comput-” “you wanna talk about computers breaking down?” peter squints down back at you. “that’s beside the point, anyways, you had a bunch of sites of those flower bouquet lego sets up and i figured you might’ve wanted one,” he answers. “also every time we stop by at barnes and nobles you rush to the toys section for the legos and talk about how you’ve always wanted one so…” 
you roll your eyes and continue to grin down at your present. you hold it close to your chest. “i love it.” 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
ned and harry were already out the door when betty and mj began to say their goodbyes. “we’ll see you at lunch tomorrow right? to study for chem?” “sure, betty. i’ll see you guys later. thanks for coming” you smile at them. betty waves at you as she catches up with ned and harry while mj tugs down at your wrist, “so, you and peter huh?” she smirks. you hate how observant she gets sometimes. 
“it’s nothing.” “uh huh” “mj!” “i’m just saying,” she shrugs. “you and peter look really cute together, and i’m happy for you two. i could tell he really likes you.”
you appreciate her comment. mj hates to show affection lots of the time, so it means a lot to you when she does. “thanks em.” you hug her goodbye, while all mj sports is a soft double pat on your back and you laugh at her “go home.” she laughs back at you and turns on her heel, “bye!”
you lock your front door and walk back into your surprisingly tidy kitchen. peter stands at your sink drying the last dish and placing it back into your cabinets as he turns around only to find you staring back at him in amusement. “what?” you shake your head at his innocent smile. the side of his hip leans against your stove and you take a few steps towards him and link your arms around his neck. he cranes his neck down for you to reach him more easily. 
you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, “you didn’t have to get me anything, pete.” his free arm wraps around your waist and turns you so your back is facing the stove, and his body cages yours. he smiles into the needy kiss he plants against your lips; one that was suppressed for your friend’s sake of finding out that the two of you are in a relationship. you and peter are still finding the right time to tell them. 
peter hums into your mouth when your hands find their way to his hair and lightly pull on it. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to get it for you. you can finally have a plant that won’t die on you” he smirks. “hey!” your hand lightly slaps his broad chest. “my plants survive.” “sure, babe.”
an idea flashes into your mind as your eyes sparkle with excitement and it piques peter’s interest in whatever you’re thinking. 
“wanna help me build it?” his eyebrows raise at your request. you know he wants to. after you, peter loves his legos. you giggle as he fervently nods his head and follows you to your room.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
and that is how you and peter end up sprawled across your room with the empire strikes back playing on your tv. you’re lying stomach-down on your soft mattress with your chin resting on your laced fingers as you stare at peter on the floor, working on building your flower bouquet. 
you couldn’t care less about the movie, you’ve watched it about a hundred times with peter around already. instead, you’d rather watch your boyfriend, working so hard and determined on the lego set. you can’t even see his eyes but you can tell his brows are furrowed and see the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration. 
when you asked him to help you build it, you did not exactly mean for him to take over it entirely. but within the first ten minutes of unpacking and assembling, you started to get overwhelmed with how many pieces there were. you tried your best starting with the daisies while peter went on to work on the lavenders but you soon got bored of building it. peter happily took over for you since he was already finished building his flower. “go rest,” he mumbled and kisses you on the side of your forehead; he moves over to your spot and finishes what you started. 
that explains your current position. the star wars movie is close to the climax and you find it funny how legos can completely distract your boyfriend from his all-time favorite movie; sometimes you struggle in capturing his full attention when this movie plays on the screen. 
“aaaand done!” he presents your gift in the air with a proud smile on his face. you take a mental picture and keep it engrained in your mind forever. peter already took the liberty of taking one of your empty vases lying around your room and filling it with your new flowers, but not before asking what happened to the plant that lived in there previously with a raised eyebrow to which you just pouted and cluelessly shrugged your shoulders at. 
you squeal in excitement as you clamber off your bed, taking the bouquet into your own hands and placing it on the cleared space on your desk. 
you stare and admire his generous gift for you and your heart bursts at the seams. you let out a content sigh, “it’s perfect.” 
you swiftly turn around to face him and he’s staring at you with a loving smile, “you are perfect,” you compliment. shuffling towards him, you stand on your tiptoes as your warm hands cover his soft cheeks, his arms around your waist. your plump lips meet his chapped ones again to which he eagerly returns. the kisses you two share are deep, held with so much emotion and affection for one another, it makes it hard for you to believe peter is really yours. 
he pulls back breathlessly, “i love you, y/n/n.” you blush and kiss him back, walking him backward until the back of his legs hit your bed frame and he sits. 
you crawl on top of him as he lays down completely against your cushy mattress. you lean down towards his face while sitting in his lap, his hands find their home on your hips gently. peter’s adoring smile grows as you pepper his face with smothering kisses. soft giggles leave his pink lips. with the way he gasps for air, it sounds like he drowning in affection from you. he squeezes your hips as he gets overwhelmed with your kisses, and you think you can feel your heart getting bigger by the second. 
you take a moment to pause and catch your breath, peter too. it’s close to the middle of the night; the movie is far along into the credits and long forgotten. you and peter start to realize how exhausted you guys are, mirroring each other's yawn. you slide down beside him with your right leg hooked around his waist, palm against his chest with your head laying in the crook of his neck. you place a feather-like kiss under his jaw, and you see him rest his eyes in peace as you mumble back, “i love you.” 
609 notes · View notes
bro-atz · 5 months
Text
the first blow
Tumblr media
in which: jinsik has much to learn (wink wonk)
pair: idol!jinsik/gn!reader
word count: 3.2k
content: smut, oral sex, imma be real this is just one bj yes 3k words for one bj i'm insane let's move on, whimpering moaning groaning whining crying jinsik makes all the noises you can possibly imagine, completely consensual!
author's note: happy bday to the jinsik to my seeun @eyeryis we discussed this concept in great length so i hope this is what you were envisioning <3 also the title is so cringe but pls give me a break i just got nothin left in the tank
tag list: @eyeryis apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two
Tumblr media
Jinsik was always a mess when it came to you. The first time the two of you ever met, he blurted out that he fell for you hard— love at first sight. But, you liked that he was flustered like that. You thought it was cute— you thought he was cute. Super cute. So, you took his confession, and the two of you started (secretly) dating. Well, the other members found out within two months because Jinsik wasn’t the best at keeping you a secret, but the fans didn’t know, nor did they need to.
You would usually hang out at their dorm whenever you knew most of them had schedules and Jinsik did not. Whoever also didn’t have a schedule would still leave and give you and Jinsik time to be alone peacefully. Very thoughtful of them, but they didn’t really need to worry about anything because you and Jinsik were vanilla— extremely vanilla. He didn’t even start kissing you passionately until six months into your relationship. You were taking things very slow, but you went at his pace because he was the one with the demanding career. You? Not so much.
One night, Jinsik told Minjae he wanted to watch a movie with you at the dorm, so Minjae took the rest of the members out to watch a movie but in a theater, leaving the entire dorm just for you and Jinsik. Minjae thought it was going to be a little more than just the movie, but you and Jinsik were simply going to watch a movie and that’s it. Or so you thought.
“A Gentleman’s Dignity? I thought we were watching a movie,” you questioned your boyfriend. “Also, don’t you think we’re a little too young to watch this?”
“What’s wrong with it? It’s not rated R or anything,” Jinsik frowned, his cute pout making your heart swell with love.
“No, I know, but… The actors are all in their 40s. Shouldn’t we watch something like True Beauty or Boys Over Flowers?”
“I mean… I guess we can…”
If your boyfriend had dog ears, they’d definitely be drooping by that point. You cupped his cheeks and left a light peck on his lips before saying, “I was just wondering, baby. You wanna watch A Gentleman’s Dignity? We can.”
“Are you sure? Will you enjoy it?”
“Of course I will. I always like and trust whatever you choose. You chose me, after all.”
Just like that, his mood lifted. He eagerly turned the K-drama on, the two of you sitting on the couch with a throw blanket barely covering the two of you. As the drama started, Jinsik immediately put his arm over your shoulder, and you snuggled into his comfy arms.
You could barely focus on the drama, though. Why? Jinsik, with the hand that wasn’t over your shoulder, slipped his hand to your thigh and rubbed it slowly. You didn’t know if he was consciously doing it or not, but regardless, it stirred something within you. Then, he kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him, surprise reflecting in your eyes. He met your gaze and smiled softly at you, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. His hand moved from your thigh to your face, and cupping your cheek lightly, he left a soft kiss on your lips. You left a small kiss on his lips in response, and the two of you kept exchanging kisses that slowly intensified into a full string of passionate kisses.
His hand dropped from your face to your waist and pulled you in, the hand that was over your shoulder moving to your hair and burying his fingers there. You body slightly jolted when his warm fingertips slipped under your shirt to run along the curve of your bare waist. You couldn’t believe it; what on Earth was happening? What happened to your shy boy who didn’t go past soft gentle kisses? (Not that you were complaining but) why was he kissing you so hard that you felt your lower lip start to feel tender?
Here’s the thing: Jinsik held off for the longest time. He always got super turned on whenever you did the slightest thing sensual. For instance, you were in the dorm with him and a couple other members of xikers, and he had to nurse his erection when you merely ran your fingers through his hair and lightly massaged his scalp. And the reason why he held off was because he had yet to have his first time, and he didn’t want you to know that. He wanted to be confident and all-knowing in front of you, and having zero experience definitely did not make him feel confident nor all-knowing.
You were excited. You were so happy that he made the move because you had been waiting and wondering for so long that you forget sex was even a thing in romantic relationships. You placed your hand on his crotch and fondled it, massaged it over his pants, his dick getting bigger and firmer and pressing desperately against his pants.
Jinsik, meanwhile, was losing his mind. Between the kissing and the touching, he was slowly slipping away from sanity and his control over his body. He hiccuped slightly, but he didn’t even hear himself because his brain was screaming.
Oh my fuck. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.
You were loving his reactions to you because it made you think he was just as pent up as you. Technically, he was, but it was more than that because he had never done this before.
The two of you leaned away from each other, and you noticed Jinsik’s face was fifty shades of flustered. He was panting lightly, and his eyes were beginning to glaze over from the pleasure of just you touching him over his clothes. He trembled and sharply inhaled when he felt you cradle his steadily hardening dick in your hand.
“Jinsik, baby?”
“Hngh— Y-yes, Y/N?”
“I wanna make you feel good.”
Jinsik, eyes trembling, asked in a whisper, “How?”
You smiled and leaned in to kiss him, Jinsik happily meeting you halfway. While you made out with him like the rowdy youngsters you were, you worked on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, your fingers tugging lightly at the thick waistband of his briefs.
Jinsik was practically vibrating at that point. His mind was melting. He cupped your face as an attempt to keep his shit together, to maintain his confidence, while his other hand gripped the sofa cushion so hard that his knuckles were turning white. A little moan left his lips while he kissed you when he felt you stroke his dick lightly, your gentle hands driving him oh so fucking insane to the point where he was trying think about literally anything else to prevent himself from cumming so fast.
By the time you stopped kissing and moved down on him, he was completely shivering and his eyes were blurry with tears and lust. You kneeled before him in between his spread legs— you were going to suck him off (he didn’t need years of experience for him to figure that out).
Then, it suddenly hit him. He had to tell you about his inexperience. He didn’t want to lie to you about this because what if he did something stupid, and then you think he’s an idiot? If you knew that he didn’t know shit about sex, then any mistake he made would be excused. But, if he’s supposed to be a seasoned, real man (aka not a virgin), he’s supposed to know better.
His braincells were bouncing around in his head while you, on the other hand, were just completely enamored with his dick. It was so pretty— it was perfectly straight, just the right girth, just the right length— your boyfriend had the model penis, and you were seriously thirsting for it. You held his dick somewhat firmly and were about to take him into your mouth when he stopped you by slipping his hand under your jaw.
“Y/N, wait, I…” Jinsik pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut when he saw you looking up at him with big, beautiful eyes because that view also excited him too much. After taking a little breath, he met your gaze again and said in the smallest voice, “I gotta tell you something.”
“Yeah…?” you eyed him, suddenly worrying about whether or not he had an STD.
“I’ve never done this before…”
“What do you mean?”
“This… This is, um, my first time…” Jinsik’s voice faded as he said the last two words, but you heard him.
“Your first time for…?”
“All of it. Everything.”
When you did nothing but stare at him with wide eyes, Jinsik immediately regretted telling you the truth. Fuck, he messed up and now he was going to die of embarrassment. But, you were shocked at the revelation because it explained so much of his behavior previously in your relationship. You hummed lightly as you thought about what to say to him to calm the poor boy down.
“So,” you started softly while stroking his dick lightly. “Does that mean I’m your first?”
Jinsik blinked a couple times, confused on where the conversation was going. “Yes,” he answered after a heartbeat or two.
You couldn’t help but smile upon receiving the information. You left a kiss on the length— making the boy tremble— and observed it while still dry rubbing. Keeping your eyes down, you whispered, “…That kinda turns me on.”
Completely missing what you said because you were so quiet and the blood rushing through his body was too loud, Jinsik leaned in slightly, only to snap right back into his original position when drew circles on his tip lightly with your fingernails. Before he could let out some raunchy noise, he bit his lower lip— and of course, he had to bite his lip in the way that makes him look sexy because he had to save at least some face.
“We all have to start somewhere, and I’m grateful to be the one that shows you, Jinsik… But, I don’t want to push you into anything. So, if at any point you’re uncomfortable or scared and want to stop, just use the safe word: “Tricky”.”
“Why Tricky…?”
“Because I’ll think about Tricky, and I don’t wanna be thinking about Tricky while being intimate with you,” you couldn’t help but laugh, making Jinsik smile in the process.
“Oh… Okay.”
“Shall we get started?”
Lips quivering, Jinsik returned a small nod, and you started. You took just the tip of his dick into your mouth first, making a satisfying popping sound as you released. You lapped him up like a lollipop, Jinsik gasping sharply at the sensation. He didn’t know what to do with his hands at that point (his brain was so far gone that he didn’t know how to do anything), so he was holding onto the edge of the sofa cushions, the cushion completely flattened under his grasp.
When you stopped teasing him and started sucking for real, a good majority of his cock in your mouth, Jinsik let out a tiny, high squeak, making him immediately cover his mouth. His face was beet red. He hated that he was making all of these mortifying noises for you instead of something deeper like a long sigh, or a groan. He was trying to do that, but no, his body wanted to betray him instead.
You were absolutely obsessed with the noises he was making. Every whimper, whine, tiny moan, squeak, hiccup— whatever he did, you loved it for two reasons: one, you knew for a fact that he was enjoying it; two, it was so much better than some jock moaning lowly and growling about your mouth was made for him or some other shit like that. Jinsik was different; he was refreshing.
Every time you moved your head further towards his waist, you moaned and sighed— fuck, you were enjoying this too because, somehow, his cock tasted just as sweet as he was. Adding your hand to the mix, you blew Jinsik while also rubbing your hand in the same direction, occasionally pressing your fingers into his cock, squeezing it the tiniest bit.
“Mmm… Ah! Hmm-ngh,” Jinsik started vocalizing his pleasure, the noises leaving his mouth getting raunchier by the second, his voice still climbing higher in pitch.
And still, he was trying so hard to contain these noises of his. He bit his lower lip (and would release to take a desperate gasp for air every now and then), and squeezed his eyes shut, trying so so hard to hold off on cumming. But, having his eyes closed just enhanced the warmth of your mouth and the sensation of your hand, lips, and tongue pleasuring him greatly.
Keeping a slower, steady pace, you eyes flitted upwards to look at his reaction. God, the man was ethereal. He looked so fucking beautiful with his face flushed, lips red and sore, eyes closed and making his eyelashes look even more full and long. You could tell he was struggling to keep it together. His hands were all over the place, one hand eternally clutching the sofa cushion while running his fingers through his hair with the other one. You thought he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Jinsik knew exactly what to do with his hands now. He knows how blowjobs work— he’d just never had one before. Honestly, he really wanted to run his fingers through your hair and hold your head while pushing you into him more, but he was too nervous. He didn’t want to do it wrong and hurt you.
“Mmm… Ahh… Oh, hmm, angh!” Jinsik whimpered out, the pleasure starting to overstimulate him.
You felt his cock quiver in his mouth— he was so close, but he was holding back, and he was holding back as much as he could; he didn’t want to cum so fast because that’s so mortifying. But, you were making it harder and harder to keep his shit together.
Jinsik moaned loudly when you went faster and closer to the base of his cock. Tears filled his eyes— you were sucking him, blowing him so fucking well that he could not hold back any longer.
No! Don’t do it! Don’t fucking cum yet! Resist! You haven’t even— Tricky! Think about Tricky!
There was no way in hell Jinsik was going to use the safe word, but thinking about Tricky did the trick (terrible pun…), and he was able to hold out for longer. That being said, he was still losing it, tilting his head up to the sky and trying to keep the tears in his eyes.
God, you loved seeing this side of Jinsik, and you wanted more. You wanted to see how he’d react to everything that someone could do during a blowjob— everything. So, you slurped. You fucking slurped him up to keep the saliva from dripping and to also provoke another long, sensual moan.
“Y-Y/N! Hnngh— Oh my— Ah! Oh my God, mmm aah! B-baby!” Jinsik managed to say in between moans and pants, sending a rush of excitement through your body.
You responded with a hum, sending him further into the stars.
“F-feels sooh good— haah!”
You looked up to see that Jinsik was still looking at the ceiling, still blinking tears out of his eyes, missing out on a gorgeous view of you blowing him into oblivion. You understood, but you also wanted his eyes on you. Releasing him with yet another satisfying ‘pop!’, you licked stripes along his red, throbbing, quivering penis. You reached for one of his hands and guided that one to the back of your head, your other hand lacing his fingers with yours.
Now that he was holding onto you, he brought his gaze down and looked at you right as you took him back into your mouth. God, you were so fucking hot kneeling before him while you pleasure the shit out of him— his mind was blown.
“Y/N, you… You’re so… This is fucking amazing.”
Blood immediately rushed to your head. Jinsik never swore— he never ever swore, so hearing the profanity leave his lips was actually insane. So, you took him in completely. Entirely. All the way until you gagged. You felt him clutch the roots of your hair, squeeze your fingers tight, and pant hard, moan hard; he was so close yet again.
“Baby, please it,” Jinsik’s loud gasp broke his sentence. “I can’t take it!”
His breathing hitched more frequently, and with every breath came a slight sob. You were a little worried, but when you looked up, he was definitely enjoying it.
“I-It’s too much!” He cried. “I can’t!
Ignoring his cries, you kept going. You wanted to make him cum. You wanted to make him cum so hard to make the long blow job so worth it.
He wanted to hold out just a little longer. Thankfully, you slowed down, trying to regain your breath and energy. His cries subdued to quiet moans— fuck, even his moans sound beautiful, like a fucking song— and was relieved that he could still hold on… Only for about two seconds though.
You blew Jinsik like there was no tomorrow. You sucked, slurped, gagged, moaned, exhaled loudly the faster and deeper you went. Jinsik went back to moaning loudly. He moaned your name over and over again, some profanities sprinkled in between, turning you the fuck on.
“Y-Y/N, baby, my l-love?” Jinsik whimpered out; he was about to burst. “Please, I’m— Ooh! Mmm, I’m— Fuck!— I wanna—”
Jinsik sharply inhaled. He pulled your hair gently (because he didn’t want to hurt you), desperately trying to move you before he came in your mouth. You, instead, moved your head all the way down, shoving his cock deep in you one last time, gagging on his length, hollowing your mouth, and slurping literally everything before surfacing for air. You were gasping and panting as several trails of saliva connected the head of his dick to your lips and tongue, the sight making his body flush with warmth.
You rubbed his cock quickly and said, “Don’t hold back anymore, baby. Cum for me.”
And that he does. Trails of white shot upwards then landed on his waist and thighs as he flung his head back and groaned so loudly that it echoed in the entire dorm. God, and he’s mortified because he just kept cumming like it built up in him because he held off for so long. Tears in his eyes, he look down to see the mess he made, his face so red that you thought it was going to burst into flames.
“Did you like that, baby?” you asked him while licking your fingers (some of his cum ended up on your hand).
“God…” he sighed out, his breathing back to normal. “That was amazing. You’re fucking amazing. Oh, wow…”
He leaned his head all the way back into the sofa, a giddy smile on his face. His first blowjob: fucking amazing.
74 notes · View notes
curi0us-gh0st · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
WARNINGS: smut, overstimulation, fingering, inappropriate language. (I think that's it!)
Imagine, you lying on the soft bed while shedding several tears, your lips red and swollen from biting them so hard to contain your own moans.
While the woman has three fingers inside her, fucking her greedy cunt soaked from too much stimulation. The fingers going in and out at insane speed, the sounds that were heard so pornographic from how wet you were.
And Momi dressed as Mask Girl on top of you in just a skirt and bra, her back stinging from her fingernails tracing red lines into it as she slammed deep into you, always ebbing near orgasm, teasing you.
"C'mon baby, what would your girlfriend say if she saw me fucking that slutty pussy of yours, huh?" She whispered next to her face, fingers curling into her sodden insides drawing a cry from her.
"Oh! Please. Please let me come!" You asked tearfully, she was driving you crazy.
"Be a good bitch and answer the question." She hit her sweet spot. "And maybe, I'll think about whether or not you should come." Momi lifted his thumb to circle her clit in need of attention.
"She- She would hate that!" You moaned aloud when again she curled her fingers, you scratching the shore freely.
"And?" She wanted more. A lot more.
"But… But, I'm yours!" You screamed. "I'm all yours!"
"Mine? All mine for what?" She asked slowing down her movements.
"No no." You whimpered. "I'm your slut! Please Mask Girl let me come!"
"That's right. Of course baby." Momi curled his fingers inside her, back and forth quickly, hitting her spongy spot as his pussy tightened and spurted his cum into her hand, squirting.
You arching your back and screaming with excessive pleasure. Momi slowed down as you descended from the top, your breathing evening out.
"You were-" She was interrupted by you kicking off your mask and wig making it fall beside you as you cupped her face and kissed her passionately.
"Thank you my love." You whispered leaving another kiss on her full lips. "You are the best and most beautiful girlfriend in the world." he praised her breathlessly as he looked down at her.
Her eyes sparkled with pure pleasure and admiration for Kim Momi. She smiled and returned the kiss. "I love you too sweetheart."
Tumblr media
A/N: Well, it wasn't the best but shit! That was like... The first thing I thought of watching Mask Girl! 🎭 (Now I literally don't know if it's Kim Momi or Kim Mimo 🥴)
I simply created a crush on the actresses who play it, before and after, both are beautiful! 🙏🏻 (no kidding, women, especially tall ones, are my undoing!)
(sorry for anything, english is not my first language!)
87 notes · View notes
ikemenlibrary · 6 months
Text
Distractions (Ikémen Prince)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Silvio Ricci x (unnamed) MC Summary: Silvio's woman seems to be upset, so he must find a way to put a smile back on her face
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: Implied smut, just a pinch of spiciness near the end, Silvio is a warning of his own
A note from the author: Written for my favorite Silvio simp @kokorokai ily
Tumblr media
The day started out like any other. She awoke with delicate sunlight peeking through the curtains of her and Silvio’s shared room. Silvo’s arm around her waist pulled her in even closer, his lips ghosting kisses over her neck as he sleepily mumbled into her skin words of good morning. 
Everything was going fine, until the first gray clouds appeared in the sky, gloomy and daunting. The first bad omen. Then, as she was on her way to the kitchen, she tripped over an upturned rug and ended up spilling a glass of lemonade on the front of her new dress, gifted from her beloved. The second bad omen.
“I think we’ll have ta literally take a rain check,” Silvio noted, glancing out the window as fat drops of rain poured down into the ocean. “It’s not safe to be out in the water like this.”
There it was, the third bad omen. Three things, that on their own, would’ve seemed small and insignificant, but all of them put together put the unwavering feeling of doom deep inside her chest. She had told herself not to cry, that crying over spilled lemonade was stupid, and expected of a little girl, not the King of Benitoite’s partner. And yet, as Silvo turned to meet her eyes with his own foamy sea blue, the heat behind her eyes pricked up, and she hurriedly blushed to blink them away.
“Aw, c’mon.” Silvio said, stepping towards the woman. “Ya can’t cry over a little bit of rain. I’ll take ya out sailing another day.” He placed his hands on her hips, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Tell ya what, how about we clear the staff outta the kitchen and you and I bake some of those pastries from Rhodolite we both like. Sounds like a plan?” She sniffled and before she could even agree, Silvio was gone, hastily making his way towards the kitchen to make sure it was clear and in proper use for his partner.
Hanging up her soiled dress on the back of the bathroom door, she quickly changed into something that could be easily cleaned if Silvio decided to be a scoundrel and make a mess of the ingredients, and followed out the door, humming to herself as she made her way to the kitchen. Silvio was already working away, spreading flour along the counter and as she walked in, he turned to her with a mischievous grin, grabbing a handful of flour and immediately blowing it in her direction. The flour made a white puff in the air, settling on her bangs, cheeks, and eyelashes and before she could even respond, Silvio lifted her into his arms, nuzzling his nose affectionately against her cheek as his hand cupped her butt, squeezing playfully once. “C’mon, lemme see that pretty smile you save for me.” 
Silvio’s coo had her blushing bashfully, biting her lip as his hand continued to explore her body, just enough to run shivers down her spine, the sensation more teasing than she had anticipated. “You’re such a tease, Silvio.” She whined, leaning in and nipping her teeth against his sensitive neck. “Thought we were gonna bake.”
Silvio grinned, all teeth and pride at her reaction, pressing his forehead against her own white powdered one. “That’s what this is, sweetheart.” His voice was dripping like honey, and it had her wanting to drop to her knees and praise him for a moment, yet she restrained herself, rubbing her nose against her own, spreading the powder that was dusting her face onto his. 
“Then put me down and let’s do some actual baking.” She grinned at him this time, the worries from the morning dissipating from her mind for the moment and she started throwing directions around at Silvio while she prepped the dough. “I love it when you’re bossy. Imagine when I talk about ya. ‘She’s so sexy when she bosses me around, makes me wanna-’.” “Silvio!” She admonished him, his impish grin and childish laugher causing her own facade to slip as they continued cutting out the dough, and chatting idly all the while. 
It wasn’t until later that evening that the kitchen smelled of sweet bread, honey, and roses, that she and Silvio quietly made their way to their shared bedroom, a silver platter in Silvio’s hand as his other arm wrapped protectively around her waist.
She had stopped and turned though, looking expectantly at Rio, who had called her name from down the hallway, rushing quickly at the pair with a frantic look in his eyes. “If you two are going to fool around in the kitchen, at least don’t be obvious. You can see Silvio’s handprints all over your backside!” Rio scolded them, rolling his eyes as Silvio grinned confidently a challenging look in his eyes.
“Yeah, you can see them because she’s mine. Got a problem with it, mutt?” He asked, his fingers ghosting over the glittery necklace adorning his partner’s neck. 
“I just think it’s unsightly behavior.” Rio smiled, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. “No way for a King and his future Queen to be acting.” “I can do whatever I want. Like you said, I’m the King, and if I want to fool around with my woman, I can do so wherever I want.” Silvio leaned in, pressing a possessive kiss to her neck as she flushed red, shooting Rio an apologetic glance as his eyes cast down towards the floor. “Now if you’ll excuse us mutt…” “I’m only letting you get away with acting like a pig because I can tell she loves you, and that you love her back!” Rio exclaimed, turning on his heel, grateful to have the last word for once.
Silvio pulled her in closer, her arms going to twine around his neck, the silver platter gleaming brightly in the now quiet hallway. “I do love ya,” he told her sweetly, leaning in to press a longing kiss to her lips. “I know you do.” She responded, giggling as he poked her in the side, trying to get her to say what he wanted to hear. “And I love you too, you big sap.” “Tell anyone, and you’re dead.” Silvio threatened, once again guiding her back to their bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot, his hand never once leaving her body.
“You wouldn’t kill me, you’d be lost without me.” She objected, running to throw herself onto the bed as Silvio quickly followed suit, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning as he approached her, eying her like a beast would its prey. 
Without responding, he kneeled on the bed, one leg nestling its way between both of hers, his hands caging on either side of her head as he bowed his head down to kiss at the hollow of her neck, relishing in the way her pulse sped up and her breathing grew shallow. “Maybe you need to remind me of what I’d be missing if I killed you.” He was teasing, his tongue dancing over her neck and collarbones as every word he spoke seeped into her skin. Despite the harsh words, his voice was soft, loving, and she knew he never meant it. She opted not to tell him this time, instead choosing to thread her fingers through his hair, tugging his head up sharply so his lips met her own softly, before harshly crushing his mouth against hers. Their kiss was all teeth, and tongue, and passion, and yet it had Silvio aching for more, pressing his knee up further between her legs, the gasp she let out against his lips letting him know he reached his goal as her body responded in tandem with his own. 
Pulling his lips from her own, Silvio’s devilish grin met her sight, the way his eyes narrowed sending butterflies through her stomach. “I managed to distract ya.” He said tauntingly, laughing at the dazed expression on his woman’s face. 
“Huh?” She questioned, trying to pull his face back down to hers, yet Silvio dodged her grasp and needy gaze.
“You were all sad and pouty and pathetically cute about us missing our boating trip today, so I found a way to distract ya. Thought the baking would’ve done more, but I guess you just can’t stay away from me, eh? Am I that irresistible?” 
“Shut up,” she responded, the blush on her face evident as Silvio’s thigh rubbed gently against her sweet spot once more.
“Make me,” Silvio teased back, but before she could even do anything, he was leaning down to cover her face in doting kisses once more.
93 notes · View notes
blindmagdalena · 1 year
Note
First I’m literally obsessed with the way you write homie it’s literally so in character.
Second, how do you think he would react to having a thicker gf and seeing them being verbally harassed bc of it? I feel like he would lose his mind
this fic has been rewritten and given a smutty follow up! check it out here. ;)
Tonight's gala is a significant one. Not only does Homelander have about a dozen deals to grease with a firm handshake and some oily promises, it's your first time attending one of these events at his side. He couldn't be prouder. You took his breath away in your formal wear; a sight to behold that had him clapping his delight. "You're gonna knock them dead," he whispered in your ear, savoring the flustered, breathy way you laughed.
Strange now that when he looks for you, Homelander doesn't see you on the event floor. You had gone to get drinks while he spoke with this senator—who has officially lost any and all of his interest in the wake of your disappearance—but you've been gone too long. Like an itch at the back of his neck, something doesn't feel right. "Ah, apologies, senator, I seem to have misplaced my date," he says, flashing his best award winning smile. "Gimme a minute to find her. Make sure she hasn't gotten herself into any trouble," he says, throwing in a wink for good measure. His pleasant expression falls off as soon as his back is turned to the boring little man. When Homelander doesn't find you on the event floor, he steps out. He listens for you, filtering out the music, the chatter, the noise of the world. He seeks what is familiar to him, what he would know from a meter or a mile away, and what he hears puts a lump of ice into his gut. You're crying.
Homelander moves swiftly down the hall, finding the women's bathroom in a heartbeat. You've gone far from the event floor, bypassing the nearer bathroom to use one further away. You're hiding, he realizes, but he can't fathom what from. He moves faster, imagining that you're hurt, that someone has you, that— "Babe?!" Homelander calls sharply, slamming open the door. He doesn't mean to scare you, but he can see in your expression that he did. Your eyes are wide and red, tears trailing black mascara down your cheeks. You stand with your hand lingering on the bathroom sink, and as the shock fades, your expression falters.
He's never seen you look so... sad. It twists in him like a hot knife, the discomfort he feels at it turning immediately into rage. Anger comes quick and easy to him. His voice is low when he demands, "Tell me what happened." "It's nothing," you try to dismiss, picking up the tissues you dropped on the floor to toss them into the garbage. "I just got overwhelmed at the party." "You're crying in a bathroom a floor down from the event, it is categorically not nothing," he argues, taking hold of your arms once he's near enough. He pulls you into him, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face. Thanks to plenty of experience with makeup in film and television, he knows better than to smear the blackened tears on your cheeks, though the impulse to wipe them away is there. "C'mon. Tell me."
You lean into him as you always do. He is a pillar, just as you have been for him. He can't fucking stand seeing you like this. "I don't belong here. I don't... talk, or dress, or look like these people. They're all..." You lift your hands, gesturing vaguely. Your voice sounds hoarse. He can't bear the sadness in it. "Perfect." "You have to be kidding me," Homelander says, his disbelief genuine. "The gaggle of sycophants and suits back there? They're insipid. Boring as all hell. I can't even tolerate being in the same room as them without you anymore," he says, huffing a laugh in an attempt to ease your mood. Anything to bring back your smile. "Seriously, what brought this on? You've never given a shit about all that pomp before." Your gaze drops. He knows you're hiding something from him. "Hey, c'mon," he coos, using the knuckle of his index finger to tilt your chin back up. "Tell me, and I will make it better."
One way or another.
With visible reluctance, you take a breath. "I... went to get the drink, like I said," you begin, fidgeting with the zipper on his glove. "When a group of people kind of cornered me at the bar. They seemed nice at first, they were asking questions about me, about us, which I know you said to expect, but then..." Your eyes prickle, he can see fresh tears well up as you speak. Homelander slips a hand to your back, rubbing it, his brow furrowed.
Sounds like someone's going to die tonight.
"One of them commented on my dress, she said that... Vought must not be used to dressing women my size," you say, voice falling quieter with every word. New tears fall. Homelander's jaw tenses. He looks away from you, blinking back that familiar crimson burn. "They all started laughing, and I just wanted to disappear," you say, a tight little sob escaping your throat as Homelander pulls you in against his chest, rubbing your back. "I'm sorry I didn't-" "No," Homelander interrupts, his anger making the word sound harsher than he intended. "No," he says again, correcting himself to be gentler. This rage isn't for you, after all. "No apologies. Let's get you cleaned up, alright? Get back out there." Someone is definitely going to die tonight. You tense up, pushing back from his arms to look up at him. "Please, I'd really like to just go home." "We will," he assures you, smoothing his hands up and down your arms. "Soon. I want you to show me the group who spoke to you."
"I don't want to cause a scene," you plead, flattening your hands to his chest. "They're not worth it." "No, they're not. But you are," he says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. He holds you firm until he feels you begin to melt, yielding to the warmth of him. By the time he draws back, you look sufficiently pliant. "Okay," you say quietly. He bites back a predatory smirk. "Nothing too dramatic, please?" You plea, leveling him with an attempt at a firm look, despite your big teary eyes. "Me? Dramatic?" He asks, feigning outrage. "I mean it," you stress, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. There it is, Homelander thinks. There is not a single heinous thing he would not do to see you smile. "Relax," he purrs. "I'll handle this."
When the two of you return to the event floor, it only takes you a moment to point out the offending group. With a hand wrapped securely around your waist, Homelander brazenly guides you to them. He feels you squeeze his hand anxiously, but he isn't the least bit deterred.
"Heyyy, what's up!" Homelander greets boisterously, bulldozing into their conversation with the friendliest of tone. Only you are wise enough to recognize the venom dripping from the corners of his mouth. His canines glint sharply in the light, as if eager for a bloody meal.
The air is strange, a mixture of drunken excitement and surprised nervousness. It's not every day Homelander himself steps into your conversation. A few of them look at you before they exchange glances, but clearly enough alcohol has been imbibed that they're feeling brave. They don't see the danger they're in. Homelander runs his tongue along his teeth. You clueless fucking idiots.
"Homelander, oh my god! I was hoping to run into you," one of the women announces. He can smell the liquor on her breath when she leans in, putting a bold hand on his arm opposite to the one he holds you with. "I'm such a fan, you have no idea. I've seen every one of your movies," she says, flushed giddy.
"Always great to meet such a dedicated fan," he says, lying through his teeth. A glance through her bag gives him exactly what he needs; her Vought security badge. She works in communications. "Kathleen, right? In Communications," he says, pointing a finger at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he's just now recalling this information. "Oh, I-wow, yes! I can't believe you know who I am," she says, glancing back at her companions.
"I try to know everyone I work with," he lies smoothly, subtly shrugging her hand off of his shoulder, placing his hand on his hip. Not all of them work for Vought, but each of them has their ID on them. A quick flit of his super powered vision between them is all it takes for him to know each and every one of them.
Homelander cocks his head to the side, giving her a once over. Her dress is richly patterned, a myriad of black, white and red. The belt bears a familiar double C logo.
“Wow, Kathleen, look at you. Chanel, huh? Oh, wait…,” he stops himself, leaning forward to take a better look at the details of the dress. He clicks his tongue, standing straight. “Nooope, I misspoke. Chanel doesn’t bleed. Not a bad knock-off, though,” he says with a brief downturn of his lips, shrugging. Immediately, all eyes fall on Kathleen. There are a couple of stifled giggles and some childish oohh's. The man to her left, seeming eager to play along with Homelander’s little game of Mean Girls, readily chimes in, “Busted.” “I’d be quiet if I were you, Chuck,” Homelander says, rounding on the man so sharply, his laughter falls immediately silent. The shock on his face is understandable. He doesn't work for Vought. Homelander has no right knowing his name. “I can smell the red paint on the bottom of those misshapen Johnston & Murphy’s you’re trying to pass off as Louis Vuitton. Now that’s embarrassing.” This time, no one’s laughing. There’s no mirth left in Homelander’s voice, and they've all finally realized it. His gaze is drifting from one potential prey to the next, his mouth set in an unyielding line. He lifts his brows, waiting for them to continue their jeering.
“What? No one has anything to say to that? How about you, Jason?” He asks, startling one of the other men. “Why don’t we talk about those fucking ugly veneers of yours? I mean, god damn. I’ve never seen a more square smile in my life. It’s like staring at white slatwall every time you open your mouth.” Homelander begins to laugh. The sound of it is thorned, vicious to behold. “Aww, c’mon, don’t be so fucking sensitive. You wanted to have a laugh at my girl, right? Let’s laugh, then,” he says, lifting a gloved hand to snap his fingers impatiently, demanding, “Laugh!” Like a bark from an obedient dog, a single man amidst the group forces a stilted laugh. Homelander hones in on him with the precision of a seeking missile, dropping his hand. Deadpan, he asks, “Something funny, Jim?” Jim audibly gulps. “Y-you said-” "Y'see, that's your problem. You're all just a bunch of fucking sheep, so desperate to be seen as somebody, you end up being no one at all. If you put half the effort you put into kissing ass into a personality, you might be a fraction as interesting as she is," he says, gesturing to you with the hand he doesn't have holding you close.
"But instead you prop yourselves up on all this..." Homelander spins his hand loosely through the air before sighing, "Bullshit. It's boring. You're all so fucking boring and miserable with yourselves. You reek of it," he says, lip twitching in a near snarl. "Go. Get the fuck out of my tower,” he rumbles, voice set low. “All of you. Before I throw you off the balcony myself.”
There's a pregnant pause before Homelander snaps, "Now!" Like roaches, the lot of them scatter. Homelander watches them with a sneer. He would have preferred literally tearing them apart, but it's neither the time nor the place. "Holy shit," you whisper. Homelander hums quietly, turning to look down at you. Before he can say a word, you grab hold of the back of his neck and kiss him absolutely senseless. He grins against your lips, turning to pull you properly into his arms. His ego swells immediately, the kiss speaking volumes. You're pleased. Pleased with him. He greedily soaks up the feeling of your body against his, lips moving against yours, eager to chase away the salt smell of your tears with something a little more salacious. The two of you break apart before the kiss becomes any more scandalous than it already was, the buzz of the crowd around you dulled by the fervency pulsing between your bodies. "That was... the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me," you whisper, your heart beating heavily in your chest.
"That so? Might not be for long. This dress on your body has been driving me positively wild. All. Night. Long," he says, punctuating each word with a kiss. You bite your lip, inhaling a sharp, flustered little breath. "Can we get out of here yet?"
"You're damn right we can," he says, kissing you again.
That night, Homelander fucks you in and out of the dress. The truth of it is that whether you're dressed to the nines or laid completely bare, he will always be wild for you. You're beautiful, you're his through and through, and he's going to make sure every inch of you knows it.
He can deep fry those morons another night.
343 notes · View notes
coldhndss · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tulip 2/2 ft. Isagi. Y
Tumblr media
You slumped back onto your bed, photo frame still in hand. 
You had always expected it to end like this anyways. Your selfishness always took precedence over other people’s feelings, especially those who cared most about you. 
You found yourself unable to cry. 
Regret reverberated throughout your entire body, and what ate away at you most was that you knew Yoichi would be blaming your mistakes on him.
All you wanted was to apologise. You used to take it as a privilege, never imagining he would stray so far from your grasp.
Maybe a nap would wash it all away.
Until you woke up, that was.
Tumblr media
You wake abruptly to the sudden sound of knocking. 
Checking your phone, you find that 2 hours have passed. 
“Coming!” You call out, looking in the mirror to tidy yourself up before opening the door. You notice that your cheeks were streaked with dried tears.
He crosses your mind, but you quickly dismiss even the mere idea of him being there. After all you’ve done, do you really think he’ll give you even a thought? 
He wouldn’t come to see you first thing after being inside a training facility for months. He’d definitely visit people who actually care for him.
Your heart beats heavily within the confines of your body.
You reach for the doorknob, twist it, and open it.
Surely the person knocking on your door in the middle of the day right after you woke up from the specific time slot that you allocated for sleep every afternoon, wouldn’t be him. 
Though, he was always particular about not hindering you or interrupting your free time, always making sure he had an idea of the times that you’re busy, or how you were feeling before approaching you.
Surely, it wasn’t:
“Yoichi..?”
No, no this isn’t him. He looks completely different from what you remember. He looks.. taller? He’s standing with confidence and his entire demeanor is different..
Though..
“Hey, y/n..” 
But his smile is exactly as you remember. 
The way the corners of his lips curve upwards, and as lets out a joyful, yet awkward laugh stringing along with his words. The way he gets too nervous to maintain direct eye-contact, and glances towards the wall or the floor after greeting you.
The way he looks back up at you timidly, seeking validation. 
It was all the same.
“Listen uh, I’m really sorry for.. everything” He spoke with a soft, sympathetic tone. 
You were not about to let this opportunity go, you refused to lose him again. Cupping his face in your hands and looking him straight in his eyes, you said “Don’t apologise. I don’t want you blaming yourself for my mistakes anymore”.
He reaches for your forearms with both hands and gently holds them as your hands remain on his face. You feel the heat of his cheeks in the palm of your hands as he looks downwards in embarrassment. 
Inching closer, he rests his forehead on your head and exhales softly.
“I just don’t want to disappoint you. I want to live up to what you expect of me, y/n.” He coyly responded.
“Yoichi, that’s not something you need to worry about. We’re not kids anymore, that stuff doesn’t matter” You paused and took a slow deep breath. You can finally get it off your chest.
“Yet, I’m sorry for ignoring you before you left, I don’t even want to imagine the way I made you felt. I.. I was so selfish..” You shuffled your feet, embarrassed. Your face began to heat up, and before you knew it, a tear dropped down your right cheek. 
You lifted a hand to wipe it, but Yoichi had beaten you to it. 
“That’s not true. I was in the wrong from the moment I hesitated to tell you about everything”. He wiped your tear with his thumb before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 
He smiled; “This entire time, I was preparing what to say to you, and yet, you still managed to stump me”. Yoichi clasped his arms around you tightly yet gently and held you close. The grasp of his body felt different to before, and his newfound confidence brought you closure. He held you in his arms as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Your heart resounded within your chest with every beat becoming louder and bearing more pressure.
Your arms remained by your side.
Giving in was not something you were prepared to do. Not in your current mindset.
The way he had changed so much, yet so little.. It made you think;
Maybe it is okay to change. To leave my bad habits behind and stop finding new ways to run away from my problems. To take a page out of Yoichi’s book, and finally leave my wrongs in the past.
You eventually gave in and wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing as tightly as you were able to. Without him, you would’ve been stuck in a loop of your congested mind, continuously likening every one of your lies with the truths of someone else. 
“y/n..?” He suddenly spoke.
“Yeah?”
“Um.. you’re squeezing me a bit too tight” He chuckled.
“..Sorry”
33 notes · View notes
taizi · 2 months
Text
all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
wild heart au
read on ao3
x
Sanji has known Sabo for much less than a month, but he’s already become one of the very last people on earth that Sanji could imagine crying. He’s too big for that, too tough—the kind of boy Sanji’s brothers would admire, probably, one who isn’t afraid to dig in with his heels and fight dirty and use his teeth to win. Nothing like the weak-willed, tender-hearted, soft-skinned failure of the Germas. 
But Sabo’s eyes are red and puffy, for the split second Sanji gets a glimpse of them, and it’s shocking. The older boy turns his back on the rest of them, crouching by the fire and prodding it viciously with a stick. Ace, who saw where Sanji’s gaze got stuck, folds his face into an impressive scowl. 
“Don’t ask,” he says, in a tone that implies it is not a suggestion. 
“I won’t,” Sanji says quickly, hands clutching on the strap of his bag anxiously. Ace clocks it with a flick of his dark eyes and scoffs, but before Sanji can decide how he feels about it one way or another, Luffy’s arm stretches past him to give Ace a solid shove.
“We can only have one sad brother at a time!” Luffy declares. It seems like he can’t decide if he should whisper or shout, but Sanji secretly doesn’t think Luffy would know how to keep his voice down if someone held a gun to his head, so the result is a normal talking voice in a weird pitch. “Don’t make Sanji feel bad, too, or I’ll hit you!”
“You wanna die?” Ace grumps back, bearing his teeth like one of the animals they hunt for dinner, but he capitulates surprisingly easily. Sabo’s mood seems to have knocked him off-kilter. That’s probably why he doesn’t argue the brother comment. 
Sanji is pretty sure the older boys don’t like him very much, but Luffy makes up for it. Luffy isn’t quiet or shy about the things he hates or the things he likes, and Sanji would have to be deaf and blind to miss how much Luffy likes him. 
It makes him willing to put up with Ace and Sabo’s bad attitudes—willing to spend his free time climbing a mountain, picking his way carefully to the edge of the dense, looming rainforest, and cook meals for a group that is two-thirds suspicious and ungrateful—because then he’ll get to see Luffy’s big, silly smile. 
Sanji is quickly learning that he would do almost anything to see that. 
“His family is stupid,” Luffy pipes up. “They have all these weird ideas that Sabo should be like them , even though he’s already like somebody—he’s like Sabo. And they do mean things when he doesn’t pretend the way they want him to—today they forgot his birthday on purpose.”
He’s not being quiet enough; Sanji can see Sabo hearing every word. But Ace doesn’t shut him up, and Sanji can guess why. The tension in Sabo’s shoulders is unwinding, until he doesn’t look so much like a creature curled up to defend itself against a kick. Suddenly he’s just Luffy’s smart-aleck big brother again, who’s sitting slouched by the fire because he’s a little tired, or a little sad. And he’s listening to the inane ramblings of a scrawny seven-year-old boy as if they mean something very important to him. 
Luffy lifts his hand to cup the side of his mouth, inviting Sanji in on a secret, because he still thinks he’s being sneaky. Sanji feels a burst of fondness in his chest that he can’t help, like his insides are nestled in a warm stove, and leans in agreeably. 
“I don’t know why anybody who was lucky enough to have a Sabo would want him to be anything but Sabo. Sabo’s the best! Don’t tell Ace, though.”
Ace’s hackles go up. He doesn’t actually have porcupine quills but he might as well since he bristles just like one and makes it painful for anybody who sticks their hand too close to him. But then Sabo makes a smothered sound, shoulders shaking with laughter that he’s trying to keep behind his hand, and it defangs Ace instantly. 
He still calls Luffy a brat and cuffs him on the head as he walks by. It’s gentle by their standards, and Luffy’s skull just bounces with the motion like a volleyball, but Sanji pats him gently in the same spot just to be sure. 
Luffy reaches up to cling to his hand and beams up at him, this little pocket-sized star. 
“What are you going to cook for us today?” he asks enthusiastically, and the mention of food has his brothers looking over, too. Sabo is still a little pale and quiet, but his icy blue eyes aren’t flinching away from the rest of them anymore. 
Sanji can’t help but think about it, though, when he’s lying awake in his bunk on The Orbit later that night. And he thinks about it when he gets up and makes his way down into the kitchen. There is usually still one or two people milling about even at this hour, and the baker gives him permission to use the oven as long as he promises to clean up after himself, and that’s how, at something like two o’clock in the morning, Sanji finds himself looking at a birthday cake that got away from him.
It’s three tiers, the sponge infused with pineapple, with a spread of filling between each layer that’s as thick and tart as a jam, and the whole of it is covered evenly in white buttercream frosting with a fluffy blue border piped around the top and bottom. He doesn’t add any extra embellishments, because he’s certain the boy it’s for won’t appreciate it, but he wants Sabo to know it’s for him and not something extra Sanji just took off a shelf. So he pipes that signature crossed-out S on the top and then boxes the whole thing up and sticks it in the fridge before he can second-guess himself anymore. 
The next morning, after a few fitful hours of sleep, he drops the cake off at the Party Bar, red-faced and embarrassed. The owner of the bar is a kind woman Luffy took Sanji to meet once in his chaotic, haphazard way that feels more like he’s just showing off his favorite things than introducing people. Makino seems to be the brothers’ point of contact for things like fresh milk and shoes without holes, and takes their rude comings and goings with the patience of a saint. 
She looks a little confused to have a big pastry box shoved into her hands by a relative stranger, but kindly promises to pass it along when Sanji is able to mumble out who it’s for, and at that point Sanji bolts out the door. 
He almost gets away with it. Maybe. He probably should have just stayed on the ship all day if he really wanted to hide, but his seniors on the staff are still adamant about keeping him away from the clientele for his own safety. 
So he’s crouched by the tidepools, watching colorful, spiny creatures living without a clue or a care how big the world is outside their tiny little place in it, when he’s tackled to the ground. 
Sanji gets a mouthful of sand and coughs and hacks and yells without looking, “Luffy!” Because there’s only one insane rubber boy who would rocket himself across the beach in an affectionate full-body slam for no other reason than to get to his hug faster. 
“You made Sabo a cake!” he shouts, like he’s trying to let the whole island know about it. “He won’t say it, but thank you, thank you! We ate the whole thing!” 
When Sanji is finally able to squint his eyes open, past the grit on his face and the sun pointing down on top of him, he’s able to make out Luffy’s blond brother standing over them. Sabo’s staring down at Sanji like he’s never seen anyone like him before. He doesn’t look unhappy or annoyed, he looks like he hasn’t decided how to look at him at all. 
Sanji shoves at Luffy until he gets the hint and lets him up. Only he gets the hint in his overly-enthusiastic Luffy way, and hauls Sanji to his feet with gusto, both his hands wrapped tight around one of Sanji’s arms. He’s very quick to grab onto people. Sanji isn’t sure he knows the first thing about how to let go. 
“Why?” Sabo demands. 
Because Sanji used to get birthday cake. He remembers being very little, lifted up into mama’s warm arms when she was still strong enough to lift him. He remembers the fragrant smell of her hair as she cuddled him close and carried him over to a beautiful little dessert.
“Make a wish,” she would tell him. “Keep it a secret so it comes true.”
Sanji is grown up now and knows those things are for children. And he knows that Sabo is so much stronger than Sanji is, and braver, and rebels against his family right to their faces in a way that Sanji would never, ever be brave enough to copy even if he lived for a million years. Sabo almost definitely doesn’t miss birthday cakes, of all things. 
But Sanji remembers how loved he felt when mama held him up to blow out the candles. The absence of that feeling carved a hole inside him that never went away. He isn’t anyone important to Sabo, but he’s someone who can give him a cake. 
He doesn’t know how to say any of that. All he says, more to the scars on his hands than to anyone else, is, “My family was mean, too.”
For a brief moment, neither of the brothers say anything. Then two skinny arms latch themselves around his waist—wrapping twice, then three times more than human arms are capable of. Luffy’s frowning up at him with that petulant expression he wears when he’s been wronged. 
But Sabo is the one who says, “Take me to them someday and I’ll beat them up.”
Sanji’s knee-jerk reaction is one of anxiety. “No, um, that’s okay. My brothers are really strong. And my dad is really scary.”
“I’ll be stronger and scarier,” Sabo announces unremarkably, folding his arms. “And I’ll have Ace,” he adds, like that’s his trump card. It’s not a bad trump card. Fighting Ace is like fighting a force of nature, or a rabid coyote. Most sensible people turn and run. 
“And me!” Luffy announces. 
“You aren’t going anywhere near my dad,” Sanji is quick to shoot him down, heart racing just thinking about Judge putting his hands on sunny, smiling Luffy. He would—he doesn’t know what he would do. But he would do something. He would go crazy. 
Luffy swells like an offended little toad, with probably plenty to say at being left out of this make-believe conflict that’s never actually going to happen in real life. 
Before he can burst with whatever silliness he’s got to say, Sanji cuts in with, “So you liked the pineapple filling in the cake?”
It cuts the wind right out of Luffy’s sails. Food always distracts him. He blinks a few times, absorbing the question, then says, “Yes! It was the best cake I’ve ever had! Ace said so, too!”
Sabo looks like he’s decided how he wants to look at Sanji now. It’s the way Luffy’s brothers both look at him. It’s the way people watch stupid puppies too clumsy for their big ideas tumble enthusiastically into trouble—funny for a few seconds, and then it’s your responsibility to pick them up and put them back on their feet, and they’re lucky they’re worth all the trouble. 
Sabo looks like he’s decided Sanji is worth the trouble.
36 notes · View notes
littlemessyjessi · 2 years
Text
"I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream": More Billy Hargrove and his goth GF 
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Billy Hargrove Imagine
Billy Hargrove x PS Reader, Billy Hargrove x Goth Reader
Pre-established relationship
General Idea:  Someone asked for more of reader and her spooky treats. 
Two boots squeaked across the concrete as Billy Hargrove made his way down the hallway. 
Max was already in the car and he'd been waiting on you for ten minutes now. 
He always took you home after school and usually you damn near blasted out of the building. 
So where were you? 
He'd given it about five more minutes before he began to worry. 
He'd gone by your locker thinking that maybe you got held up and were just trying to get your things. 
No such look. 
So his next thought was your last class. 
Home Economics. 
Sure enough as he neared the door he could see your through the little window on the door. 
You were sitting on the stool behind one of the little tables. 
Your chin in your hand, elbow on the table, a completely put out look on your face. 
He watched you through the window for a few seconds more before swinging the door open. 
"Baby?  What are you doing?  Come on." 
You looked up. 
Eyes gone big at him. 
You sighed, smacking your hands to your forehead. 
"Oh, hi, babe.  I'm sorry.  I forgot to tell you to go ahead." you said. 
"Go ahead?" he asked, brows furrowing.  "What are you talking about?  I always take you home."  
"Oh, uh, well." you said, hands fidgeting.  
"Well what?" he pressed, those electric blue eyes narrowing in on you. "Did you get in trouble or something? Detention?" 
He knew it wasn't likely because you were a perfect angel. 
At least in his eyes anyway. 
There wasn't much you could do that would warrant a punishment in Billy's mind… and he had issues with anyone who seemed to think otherwise. 
"No, uh, I'm not in trouble.  I'm just waiting on my cousin.  She's bringing me a cooler.  I, uh, I have ice cream." you said, not meeting his eye. 
"Babe." he chuckled.  "Just get it.  Max is already in the car with the air on and you don't live far.  It'll be fine. Just hold it up to the vent." 
You gnawed on your lip and glanced up at him, "Well, uh, I can't really do that, Billy.  It's too much to hold in the front seat." 
Billy lifted an eyebrow at you, waiting for further explanation. 
You gave a long suffering sigh before standing and opening the classroom freezer behind you. 
There, sitting as pretty as ever were two trays of cups. 
Black and green swirls of ice cream all sat in a row. 
And all untouched. 
He sighed. 
"Baby…" 
You looked like you were about to cry and he crossed the room quickly to gather you in his arms. 
He pressed kisses into your hairline. 
"I just don't get it." you whispered. "It's just ice cream.  Everyone watched me make it yesterday in class.  Like, it's not like I did anything.  I wouldn't do that!" 
"I know, baby." he said, hand rubbing up and down your back. 
"And I was so excited because it's ice cream day, Billy.  Ice cream.  Who doesn't like ice cream?" you vented.  "And I worked hard on it. I stayed up last night and made homemade sprinkles.  And I came in during my lunch just so I could make the syrup fresh. I even made chocolate covered bananas in case anyone wanted a sundae!  It's key lime pie and black coconut because I remembered that it's Hannah Pearson's birthday today and I heard her tell Misty Donahue that she loved key lime pie and that coconut was her new favorite slushie flavor.  So I thought I'd make them special… because it's her birthday!" 
Billy pulled you in a little tighter. 
"But… but she said I was a weirdo.  She said she wouldn't eat anything I made because I'd probably poisoned it.  That they even looked like poison.  Billy, I would never - " 
"Sssh- baby.  I know.  I'm so sorry." he said. 
He hated high school. 
He hated how kids could be. 
And at that moment he hated Hannah Pearson because he knew it was less about you and more about the fact that she'd hit on him and he shot her down because frankly he wasn't interested and also because he was hopeless for you. 
He held you for a little longer before he pressed a kiss to your temple and settled you down on the stool with a sigh. 
"Just sit tight for a second, baby." 
"Why?" you asked immediately. "Where are you going?" 
"Just sit tight, ok?" he said. 
"Billy, don't get into a fight or anything.  I know you already hate Dereck…" you said. 
He chuckled thinking of Hannah's boyfriend. 
He knew that you knew that he wouldn't hit a woman. He wouldn't hit Hannah.  But that certainly wouldn't stop him for starting a fight with her current boyfriend. 
He did hate Dereck Landley because he was a jerk and was actively looking for a reason to bash his face in… but that would have to wait for another day. 
"I won't. I swear.  Just wait here." he said and disappeared out the door. 
He'd made it to the parking lot in moments, opening the door to his car and pulling Max's headphones off. 
"Billy!" she said annoyed. 
"Get out." he said. 
"What?  I didn't even-" 
He sighed, rolling his eyes, "Get out and come inside.  I need your help." 
Her blue eyes widened. 
Billy?  Needed her help?  What had the world come to? 
Nevertheless, she exited the car even if she did give her stepbrother an odd look as she fell into step with him. 
"You're little friends still around?" he asked. 
Max tensed. 
She and Billy had gotten past a lot but she was still wary about some things. 
"Uh…" 
"I'm not gonna do anything.  Relax." he all but growled.  "I just need more people." 
"Uh, I don't know.  I can go see." she said, still unsure. 
He nodded, "Alright, go do that and meet me here in about ten minutes." 
Max, still confused with him, furrowed her brows, but he had already turned around and stalked in a different direction. 
He nearly gagged at the idea of speaking to that familiar head of hair up ahead but he forced it down anyway. 
"Harrington!" he called out. 
Steve turned, his face clearly showing that he was not in the mood. 
Though, Billy was less concerned with Steve and more about the freckled face next to him. 
"Buckley, you got a minute?" he asked. 
"Don't you have a girlfriend?" she quipped. 
"Don't you?" he shot back, sending her cheeks aflame. 
He sighed, "Sorry, reflex.  Look, do you two like ice cream?" 
"What?" Steve asked, bewilderment clear on his face. 
Billy huffed out a breath, "Do you like ice cream?" 
"We do work at Scoops Ahoy…" Robin trailed off. 
"Just come to the Home Ec room in ten minutes." he said and turned away. 
The two teens shared a look of confusion but honestly, Billy's erratic behavior was too good to pass up. 
His last stop was the drama room and as expected when he came through the door the Hellfire club looked up in surprise. 
Never did they think they'd see Billy Hargrove standing there unless he had come to terrorize someone. 
Eddie lifted a brow briefly but painted on a smile, trying to diffuse whatever catastrophe that was about to occur. 
"Uh… meetings are private, Hargrove." he said. "You need an invitation." 
"Do you guys like ice cream?" Billy asked, patience running thin. 
Gareth's eyes bugged out of his head while Jeff's brows drew so far together they almost looked like one. 
"Uh.." Eddie laughed. "What?" 
"Ice cream." Billy repeated.  "Do you like ice cream?" 
"Look, man. We're not try-" 
"Just come to the Home Ec room in ten minutes." he said, promptly turning and leaving the few members to look at one another in confusion. 
Soon enough Billy had circled back around to the front to collect Max and her ragtag group of little hooligans along with Lucas' younger sister, Erica. 
Robin and Steve had been joined by Nancy as well as the junior cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham. 
Eddie, Gareth and Jeff trickled in behind them as they all stood in the middle of the hallway. 
"What's going on, Hargrove?" Steve asked. 
"We're going to the Home Ec room.  My girlfriend made ice cream." he answered as if he were remarking on the weather. 
"Billy." Max groaned. "Come on." 
He sighed, "Listen, the people at this school are dicks." he said. 
"You would know." Robin said. 
Billy lifted an eyebrow at her and she lifted one back. 
"Well, it's true.  You were an asshole until you got with Y/N." she said. "And that's still up for discussion honestly." 
He sighed. "She made ice cream for class today.  And she worked hard on it.  She always does.  And no one would eat it.  They always do that to her and I know it hurts her feelings.  But she deserved better than that.  No one deserves to be ridiculed like that for no reason." 
There was a shift in the group, each turning inward to their own struggles. 
"You don't have to." he said. "I just thought it would be nice.  You can have something nice to eat.  Because I know it will be.  Everything is always great." 
"I can second that." Max chimed in. "She always brings me food in the morning and those mummy things were awesome." 
Billy actually smiled at his stepsister for that. 
To which she panicked and looked away because Billy is Billy. 
"Again, you don't have to but it would be nice.  You'll get something and honestly, I think it would just mean a lot to her." he said.  "Please." 
None of them had really ever seen anything like this from him and certainly never heard him beg. 
So call it moral obligation or pure shock… but they all followed. 
The door opened and you looked up only to curl inwards a little. 
"Billy." you whispered. "I'm not looking to be ridiculed yet again today." 
"No one is here to ridicule you." Billy said, coming to stand at your side and looking at the others. "Just here to have some ice cream.  Right?" 
It was silent for a beat before Eddie stepped forward, leaning on his elbows on the table in front of you. "We wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart." he said, batting his doe eyes at you dramatically.  "Especially not with your trusty guard dog here." 
He winked at Billy who was slightly amused but narrowed his eyes anyway.
"You watch the pet names, Munson. That's my girl you're talking to." he said. 
Eddie gave him an impish grin before sliding around to sit on the stool next to yours. 
"So tell me Miss Culinary Queen.  What's on the menu?  If it's anything like those cakes you brought for your birthday, or maybe it was Christmas in middle school then I'm in!" he said. 
Chrissy startled everyone with her gasp, "Oh my god! Yes! Those little chocolate cakes with the, the, uh chocolate syrup or fudge or something on the inside?" 
"Oh, those were lava cakes." you said. 
"Yes!" Chrissy said. 
"And they were made up to look like actual volcanoes." Eddie said. "Fucking rad, man.   And they were good as fuck. I could eat one right now." 
"Thank you." you said getting to your feet and heading to the freezer. "Um, well, it's not lava cake. But it's homemade ice cream. It's lime and coconut.  And, uh, I have toppings too. And chocolate covered bananas. And chocolate sauce and caramel syrup.  In- In- In case anyone wants a sundae or something." 
There was a murmur of excitement and soon enough the group of people were enjoying their frozen treats and having a good time. 
Billy slid an arm around your waist and pulled you down on his lap, eliciting a small giggle from you. 
"Saved you some." he said, holding out a little cup. 
"Thank you." you said, pecking his cheek. 
"No problem, baby." he said, holding up his cup to yours. 
You clinked the plastic with his, and let the ice cream dance on your tongue. 
And maybe life wasn't perfect. 
Maybe the day had sucked. 
Maybe Home Ec would always be a pain in the ass. 
But you had a guy who loved you and would clearly go to any depths he could to make you happy. 
And that was all you could really ask for. 
"Hey, you know, Y/N. I've literally been trying to talk to you for years but like, every time I get close, you bolt or something." Eddie said. 
"Watch it, Munson." Billy said. 
His glare was soft but still made you giggle and peck his cheek again. 
"Easy, Kujo." Eddie teased him before turning his attention back to you. "I meant as a friend. I just think you look cool is all.  I see the little projects you do sometimes and they're pretty badass.  I've always kinda thought we'd be good friends." 
"Oh." you said, shock coloring your tone. "Well, I mean, I didn't mean to run away.  I guess I was just preoccupied or maybe I thought I was in the way. But, but thank you.  I, uh, I've seen your band before.  You guys are awesome." 
Eddie grinned massively and you smiled back. 
And Billy had an inkling that perhaps he'd done more than cheer you up. 
Maybe just maybe… he'd brought a couple of friends together. 
Hey, loves.  So now I'm fucking soft again.  NO ONE TOUCH ME!  *sobs*  
Anyway, I hope you liked it and I would love to hear your thoughts! 
Be nice to yourself and please drink a cup of water today! 
Love, K 
@toomanyfictionalboyfriends
@thickemadame
@blackirisposts
@therealmrshale
@thegreatirene
@angelus320
@disneymarina
@sullybot
@kalliravenne
@alisoncdariel
@amethyst09
@leah-halliwell92
@queenlexusloverofbts
@owenniasstars
@adventuresofnight
@tacobacoyeet
@glassesandthunderthighs
@lyn-g
@poopypantsmcgee666-blog
@milkshakelol
@sunnysidesblog
@speedyhandsbonkpalace
@mwitsmejk
@pinkcherrybombs
@abc-abc1234-a
@vj21
@kelly-fushiguro345
@minshookie29
@shycupcakealissa
@m-rae23
@thedarkwinterrose
480 notes · View notes