#this is a very old request i'm so sorry </3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosebudfics · 5 months

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Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching

(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)

Secret Lovers

Severus Snape x Professor! Reader

Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry

A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3

You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.

Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!

So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.

You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.

You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.

When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.

Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.

“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.

“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.

Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.

“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.

“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.

“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”

After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.

“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.

“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.

“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.

Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed.

They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.

They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.

“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.

Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.

“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.

“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”

“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”

Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”

They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.

“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.

“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.

“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.

“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.

“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.

They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!

Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.

"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.

You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.

Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.

"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.

"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"

"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.

"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.

Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.

You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."

#severus snape x reader #pro snape #professor snape #severus snape #snape #snape fandom #snapedom #snape x you #snape x reader #snape x y/n #severus x you #severus x reader #severus x y/n

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nariism · 6 months

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{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]

Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞

a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3

you've been spoiling him to no end.

if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.

right now, he just feels miserable.

wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.

you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.

"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.

"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.

"it’s just a necklace."

"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.

"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."

you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"

the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."

"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"

"feed me."

"..."

his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.

if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.

and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.

the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.

so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.

that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.

you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.

either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.

"i should get sick more often," he muses.

you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.

"no... please don't."

#— whispers in the wind ✧#not proofread :p i'm sorry #genshin impact #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fluff #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin fic #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x gn reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin

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muchosbesitos · 6 months

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Miguel with a chubby reader(specifically hipdips and a big stomach;and if you don’t mind,a toothgap) make it as kinky as you like friend🫶

-angel anon🪽

thigh worshipper

pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader

contents: oral (f receiving), brief thigh fucking, brief titty fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, some mommy issues, overall just smut

author’s note: got kinda carried away with this one 🫣 i hope you don’t mind that i mixed your request with one from @shadofireshinobi. anyways enjoy lol <3 (i hope i did the requests justice)

word count: 5.5K+

You were laying on your bed, scrolling through Tinder after realizing that you'd watched all the shows you had on your list. Though you weren't too enticed by the options appearing on your screen, it entertained you for the time being. You stared at the messages on your screen, noticing that none of them had asked you to go on a date but rather a invitation to come over.

Though you were conscious of the fact that you didn't fit the description of the 'conventionally attractive woman', you still wanted to be seen as something more than just a sexual object. You continued to swipe left at the men popping up on your phone until your phone started ringing, the word 'MOM' flashing at you.

"Hi mommy, how's it going?" You greeted her, trying to make some sort of conversation. Your relationship had been strained before you moved to Nueva York, but now it just felt like you were hanging on by a thin rope. "I'm gonna keep this short. Your brother asked me to tell you if you could bring him some food. Said that you would listen to me for some reason," she responded, cutting off every aspect of making friendly conversation.

"He's thirty years old, I'm sure he can manage to get food on his own," you grumbled, knowing that he'd used your need for motherly approval to get his way. "Just go give him some food, you're all each other has," she responded, the line cutting off after she spoke. "Bye," you mumbled to the dead line, hoping that some part of her would call back and ask you how you were doing, to provide you with some kind of advice.

But of course, you were only met with a black screen when you pulled the phone away from your ear. You got up from your bed and walked over to the kitchen, packing up what you made for yourself in a plastic tupperware. While you didn't exactly mind doing these favors for your brother, you weren't expecting to go back to work on your day off. You worked at Alchemax under the human resources department and he had a tendency to use that to his advantage, getting you to bring him lunch and whatnot.

"Y’know, you could've called me instead of mom if you wanted lunch," you greeted your brother as you came into the office, setting down the tupperware on his desk. He opened it up, the scents of spices filling up the room and he let out a small sigh in delight. "Yeah but it's so much easier to get you to comply when I tap into your mommy issues," he responded, putting the papers on his desk to the side. You sat across from him, rolling your eyes as you two talked about what's new at Alchemax.

"Don't forget about the barbecue I’m hosting on Saturday," your brother reminded you as you were walking out the door, and you gave him a thumbs up before leaving. You heard your phone buzz in your back pocket and you saw a message from a decent looking guy asking to get to know you better. You were instantly immersed into conversation, having a slimmer of hope that his intentions would be pure.

Your attention was taken away from your phone when you bumped into a very built man, the sounds of glass shattering forcing you to put your phone away. "Can you not see properly or something?" A voice looming over you spoke, agitation evident in his tone. you looked up to see that the man was staring down at you, his eyes flaring with annoyance and anger. "I'll help you clean those test tubes, i'm sorry about that," you responded, watching the liquid dribble through the floor. "Don't bother, just get out the way and go back to whatever low-paying intern gig you're doing."

Your nose flared as he spoke to you but before you could argue back to him, he'd already walked off to the janitor's closet. While you had offered to help him clean up the mess, you didn't feel responsible towards actually doing the task given the way he spoke to you. You carefully stepped around the glass and left the building, trying not to let his words agitate you too much. If luck has it, you'll never have to see that man again.

The day of the barbecue had approached you faster than you'd expected and you looked over at your closet for options on what to wear. You didn't want to appear too overdressed, but you didn't want to wear too little. You grabbed a black tank top and a pair of low-rise shorts, putting them on quickly. A younger version of yourself would've been self conscious of how your pudge appeared on the tank top or the stretch marks that showed on your thighs, but that version of yourself was no longer there and all you felt was pure happiness at seeing yourself.

You did some light makeup you wouldn't sweat off in the sun before heading towards the kitchen, grabbing some of the potato salad you'd made for the barbecue at your brother's request. You arrived at the event half an hour late but everyone was starting to get buzzed, so none of them made any note about it. You set down the tupperware on the table outside, glancing around at who'd arrived at the event.

It was composed of most of your coworkers, given that neither you or your brother tried too hard to make friends, and their kids running around in the backyard. Though you tried not to talk to geneticists at work, you found yourself getting attached to their kids whenever you went to events. Whether it was a form of healing your inner child, of being the mother figure that you never received growing up or if it was just to be the 'cool aunt', you didn't know but you'd grown to enjoy the kids' company more than your coworkers'.

Your eyes widen comedically when you notice the man you'd bumped into a couple days before, talking with your brother like they're the best of friends as he sipped on a Modelo. You viewed him through your peripheral, trying not to be so creepy in your staring as you tried to figure him out. He seemed cold and unappealing to hang out when you had bumped into him, but he was laughing and slapping your brother on the shoulder as they talked. You walked over to the food table, browsing through the options before you settled on getting a beef empanada.

"Do tell me your thoughts on the recipe after you're finished eating," someone's voice behind you snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned around to face the same man. Now that he'd mentioned that he made the empanadas, you were predetermined to hate them just out of spite. You took a bite out of the empanada, the beef and cheese melting perfectly on your tongue. It was savory, neither too salty nor too simple, but your ego couldn't let yourself admit that to him.

"They're alright, at best. I'd say Colombian empanadas are better," you responded with a small shrug, trying to mask your expression the best you could. He rolled his eyes as he watched you take another bite from the empanada, entertained by the way you couldn't help but lick your fingers after you were finished. "I'm Miguel, it's nice to meet you when you're not breaking all my test tubes," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, but your attention was pried away from the man when you felt some light tugging on your shorts.

"Can you come play water balloons with us, pretty please?" A little girl with pig tails asked you, her eyes eerily similar to the man standing in front of you. "Gabriella, what did I say about getting messy?" He spoke up, looking down at the girl as he folds his arms. "Please daddy? I don't wanna be the only one not playing," Gabriella asked him, giving him her best version of puppy eyes. He let out a small grumble, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, looking down at the floor. "Fine, but have this lady here take care of you."

You joined Gabriella with the other kids as they threw water balloons at each other, eager to have some time away from the other adults at the party. You could feel their judgmental stares when you were eating your empanada, from the gap in your front teeth to the way that you ate, but you didn't really say anything since they didn't acknowledge it directly. You looked up to see that Miguel was staring at the two of you though someone was speaking to him at his side, one of the more renowned geneticists at the lab.

"Hey, who's that?" Miguel asked your brother once he got the opportunity to get away from the geneticist who talked his ear off about how the economy's going downhill. He'd tried asking other people at the party but they all offered him vague responses about how you were just a HR worker at Alchemax. "That's my sister, I'm surprised I haven't introduced you to her before. Why do you ask, though?" your brother responded, looking over at where the kids were playing.

"Just curious why a grown woman's playing with a bunch of children," he responded with a small shrug, folding his arms across his chest. "The kids like her, man. I think it's helpful to her since our mom wasn't exactly present in our life, sorta like healing her inner child," your brother responded, looking back over at Miguel before he walked away. Miguel wasn't sure why he was so fascinated by you, given how much of a klutz you could be but he found himself entertained by the idea that you didn't put up with his shit.

The group had aligned for a photo like at most reunions to hang up on the front walls of Alchemax, but you were pulled to the side by the girl taking the picture. "Excuse me but you can't be in the picture. you're all wet," she told you, her nose scrunching up as she looked at you. "Literally all the children are wet, so go ahead and tell me the real reason why you don't want me to be in the picture," you responded, folding your arms as you stared her down. "Well, you're not extremely flattering in this angle. You'd just ruin the picture if you got in there."

Miguel overheard this conversation and reunited everyone that was in the group, standing off to the side in solidarity. He wasn't sure why he felt so protective of you, of having a need to make sure you didn't feel hurt, but he wasn't going to question it too much. "Can you leave? You're kinda killing the vibe here," he spoke up behind you, despite the fact that he had no authority over who came to the party. Her eyes widen as she looked over at Miguel, her cheeks flushed as she tried to sputter an apology out to him. "I believe the person you need to apologize to is right in front of me, no?"

The girl looked at you, a disgusted look on her face like she couldn't believe that she had to be subjected to this. "You know what? I don't wanna hear your apology. Just get the fuck out of my brother's house," you told her before she opened her mouth and she reluctantly left, visibly defeated. Miguel looked down at you, a surprised expression coaxing his features but chose not to say anything. The group reunited once more for the picture and you chose to smile for it, the first smile you've given for the first time in a while in photos.

The party ended up winding down soon after that and you went home after helping your brother clean up the house. You were out on your porch, reading a book on one of the lawn chairs you'd gotten on sale with a cigarette hanging from your mouth. Your attention was diverted from your book as you saw Spider-Man hanging upside down from your porch.

"Don't you know those are bad for you?" He asked you, pointing towards your mouth as he kept his balance with one hand. "And don't you know dropping on your head is also bad for you?" You retorted, watching as he crawled into your lawn, settling down on the lawn chair next to you. You continued to read your book, occasionally taking a moment to look from your peripheral that Spider-Man was staring at you, like you were the most fascinating thing he's seen.

"What?" You decided to break the silence after a while, setting your book down and taking the lit cigarette out of your mouth, putting it out. "This is usually the part where people start to freak out, y'know? start to get excited that Spider-Man recognizes their existence and whatnot," he responded, and your brows furrowed slightly as you laughed. "You're really not that important to me, bug boy. i'll see you around Spider-Man," you told him, retreating back into the house and he was left speechless.

Miguel took notice that you responded nicer to him while he was dress as Spider-Man, even if it was just by the slightest bit, so he decided to check up on you every time that he was done with patrol. He validated his decision to go over to your house by telling himself that he was purely there to collect information about you, about what type of person you were if you were going to be around Gabriella once more.

The more that you spent time with Miguel and Spider-Man, the less time that you spent on Tinder to seek out approval from random men. You decided to delete the app after coming to the realization that you felt more accomplished with Miguel talking to you like you were something more than just a fetish, and you had started to develop some type of feelings for him. The thought of liking him terrified you since you'd built up some emotional walls to keep people out, but he managed to tear through those pretty easily despite how offputting you could get.

He came to your porch one night while you were lighting up a cigarette, dangling it in between the middle of your teeth as you paced around. "What's up with you, my number one fan?" He asked you cheekily and you were visibly startled at seeing him appear from the night. "Didn't think you were showing up so soon, bug boy. Might start to think that you're actually interested in me," you remarked, trying to deflect from the subject at hand.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, sitting down on the lawn chair as he crossed his arms. "You don't have people to save? No one who's just so obsessed with you that they followed you here?" You remarked, sitting down next to him on the chair as you played with the hem of your silk pajama shorts. He stayed quiet, almost like a form of invitation for you to share what you were going through at the moment.

You started to tell him about what was going on at work, with a big audit that's taking place at Alchemax. You noticed that while you were talking, he looked up at you a couple times just to make you believe he was paying attention but his gaze kept returning towards your exposed thighs. "Are you bothered by them or something?" You decided to cut off your story and take out the cigarette from its place, putting it out before putting it in the ash tray.

"No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't make to feel you that way. It's just.. I've had a long day too and your thighs just look so nice smushed together in that chair," he admitted, his voice cracking a little bit like he wasn't expecting to say that himself. Your brows furrowed but you decided to stay shut, unsure of how to react to his remark. "Can I.. just taste you? We don't have to do anything else but I just really need you to wrap those thighs around my face."

Which is how you ended up inviting Spider-Man into your home, the two of you currently in your bedroom. He slid just the mouth part of the mask up to his nose and even though he asked you not to, you couldn't help but examine his features to see if it was somebody you knew. Your thoughts were diverted as his mouth touched yours, surprised that he was initiating some form of foreplay. You brought your hands to the back of his mask, feeling a bit of soft curls from where the mask had been exposed as you kissed him, more needy than you had expected to be.

He brought one hand down to your sleep shorts, his hand tracing small circles on your inner thigh before gently prodding at your folds. You felt your breath escape your lungs as he pushed a finger in, your growing slickness inviting him with each thrust that he took. His mouth went down to your neck, his lips sucking harsh hickeys into your skin. He knew that it was wrong at some degree, but he couldn't wait to see you as Miguel with his marks on you.

His fangs gently grazed at your skin with every kiss that he took and he was almost tempted to paralyze you, to have you be his feast for as long as he needed to, but he decided to file that away for a later time. He pulled his hand away from your cunt once he was done with the attack on your neck, slotting in between your thighs. He rolled the fat in between his hands, doing the best he could to massage them but even with his bigger than average hands, your thighs were just too big to do so.

Your plush thighs closed his head in the spot that he was in and he figured that if he died right now, he'd be a pretty lucky man. He brought his mouth to your folds, slowly starting to prod inside your hole with his tongue as he looked up at you for your every reaction. He couldn't help but get off on the fact that you hated him so much but yet, you'd complied so easily to have him in between your legs.

"Look at you using your friendly neighborhood bug boy to get off. Y'know, you look so much prettier when you're not being to mean to me," he told you, his tongue forming small circles on your inner thigh. If you hadn't built some form of connection with him, you would've worried that he would be thrown off by the stretch marks coaxing your thighs, but if anything, he just seemed to be more enticed by the mere sight of them. "Shut up and just fuck me," you mumbled, thrusting your pelvis closer to his face as you tried to feel his tongue on your cunt again.

"With pleasure," he responded, his hands squeezing your thighs as his tongue went into your hole, tasting every bit of the juices you were releasing. He had no intention of wasting any drop, not when you tasted like the sweetest nectar he'd ever have. His eyes shut to focus on the task at hand, your hand coming down to the back of his mask as your hips moved closer to his face, starting up a steady rhythm to get yourself off. He stopped and tsked, his hands coming to your thighs as he held them in place.

"Patience, sweetheart. I'll get you off, don't worry," he says before he went back to it, his tongue collecting all the slick from your folds before going back to thrusting in and out of your hole. He felt your hands grip around the back of his mask but he felt some sort of trust in you, that you wouldn't expose him for your benefit. And you didn't, you simply just pulled at the curls on the nape of his neck as he continued his attack on your pussy.

His mouth enclosed around your clit as his hand came down to your pussy, slowly moving a finger inside while you got adjusted to it. He'd done a good job of preparing you beforehand but his fingers were too long and thick for you to just take in one thrust. He started easing his way in until your walls opened to accommodate him, instantly curling to find your g-spot. His tongue flicked around your clit like he was curious to find out what exactly is what made you tick, what would have you dripping in his mouth.

Spider-Man continued with this for a couple minutes, just taking an opportunity to explore what made you writhe against him and what had you moaning out for more. Your fingers were tightly wound as he rolled his tongue around the nub, his pointer finger brushing up against the spongy spot inside of you with every thrust that he took. "Let me taste you, sweetheart. I need you to give it to me," he pleaded, sounding more desperate than you for your orgasm. Your back arched from the bed as you felt the coil inside of you snapping quickly, your orgasm approaching you quickly.

He lapped up all the juices your cunt released around his finger, his mouth coming down to lick at the juices that had leaked out around your folds. He knew he should've been a gentleman and waited until you came down from your orgasm, but he couldn't help the desire he felt towards sucking everything that you would give him.

"Sit on my face," he told you once you came down from your orgasm, laying down on the bed next to you. You knew that he could take on multiple villains at the same time and you could see that he was ripped just by the way his suit clung onto his body, but a part of you couldn't help but feel like you would suffocate the man if you did that. "If you're worried about me, I'll be fine. I just wanna have your thighs squish around my head, mami," he spoke once more, sounding so needy to have you comply with his demand.

You slowly moved up his chest all the way to his face, your thighs enclosing around his face as they held him in place. You gripped onto the headboard for some kind of support as his hands came down to your thighs, helping you in the process. He started off by thrusting his tongue into you, tasting the remnants of your orgasm with every thrust that he took. He brought his nose closer to your clit, the contact of it every time that he moved his head causing a small shudder to run down your back.

He ate you out with such vigor, like he would die if he wasn't able to acquire a taste of you. "Use my face all you want, mami. i'm just here to pleasure you," he spoke up from beneath you, and you slowly started rocking your hips against his body. You kept your rhythm in tandem with the way that his tongue moved, your hands going to your breasts as you kneaded them through your thin shirt. You moved them underneath the shirt, playing with your nipples for extra stimulation as you tugged and pinched them.

His hand started to play with your clit, his fingers working on the nub as he rubbed circles on it. Your pussy clenched around his tongue, coating his mouth with a wave of fresh arousal. He couldn't help but lap it up greedily, working to have you cum on his mouth once more. Your toes curled as you felt that orgasm building up inside of you, your rhythm starting to get sporadic the more that he used his tongue. You came once more, your juices coating his mouth as you got off from him.

He missed the way your thighs wrapped around his head as soon as you got off, but he was consoled by the taste of you overwhelming his senses. He licked his lips and looked over at you, your chest heaving as you tried to get your breathing under control. He knew he should've left at that moment but he couldn't help but hold you in his embrace, his fingertips tracing small circles on your stomach as you started to fall asleep.

Spider-Man continued to make routine visits to your house, though he didn't attempt to have sex with you right away. The day after he ate you out, he came over at around midnight and asked if he could fuck your thighs, that he couldn't stop thinking about them and how inviting they looked. Needless to say, you agreed and soon enough he was on your couch, thrusting into your thighs.

His cock wasn't small by any means, but as he did this, only the tip was visible with every thrust. You slowly grinded your thighs against his cock, emulating what penetrative sex would be like. He came after a couple minutes but he didn't stay the night this time, he simply got dressed and left your house. The next day, he showed up with some minor injuries and asked if he could fuck your tits after you finished patching him up.

He would always be a fan of the way your thighs clenched around his cock, but he couldn't deny that your tits were pretty damn enticing. The way they felt as he was thrusting in and out of them, the way you pushed them together to provide him with the friction that he needed, and the way your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. His cum coated the top of your tits as he came and he could've sworn he could've came again with the way you licked the cum off.

Coincidentally, Miguel had also taken steps to be a better person towards you. He had brought some empanadas as an apology for overreacting when you bumped into him and he started bringing Gabriella to your office when you were on break. You knew that he was doing it more for you than anything else given that Alchemax offered free daycare, and you could admit that you liked to take care of her. She was smart, in a way that wasn't annoying to talk to, but she was capable of having a conversation with you that wasn't about school.

You came home from work after a pretty stressful day of paperwork and filing, wanting to relax and watch something new on tv. Your plans were quickly derailed when you heard a thump in your porch, the sight of Spider-Man on the floor making your heart drop. You'd had some suspicions that he'd been Miguel seeing him hurt made all the blood drain from your face. You walked over to the porch, opening the door to let him stumble inside.

He settled on your couch, holding his stomach in pain as a gash bled through the cracks of his fingers. You got up and went to the bathroom, getting a towel to wrap around the gash so the bleeding would subside. "No smart remarks about how I'm paying for your couch after this?" He joked, his voice coming out cracked from the pain he was in. You scoffed as you wrapped the towel around him to the best of your ability, tightening it up.

"You get hurt and the first thing you want to say to me is some stupid remark about my couch, Miguel?" You scold him, your eyes widening as you gave away the realization of your knowledge. He slid off the mask, his hair messy with some pieces of flesh tangled into the strands as he looked at you apologetically. "I didn't know you cared about me so much to worry this much, corazón. I would be flattered if i wasn't bleeding out," he told you, flashing a grin but it didn't carry the intended effect.

You gave him a towel so he could wash off his hair and the grime coating his body after he finished healing. You were sitting on your bed as you scrolled through your phone, reading through some stupid news article about today's events. You looked up to see Miguel coming into your room with the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and curled at the ends. You could admit that the sight looked inviting, especially with the way that his happy trail poked out from the towel but you didn't want to initiate anything just in case he was still in pain.

Miguel came over to the bed, bunching your night dress in his hands as he looked down at you. "Let me thank you for everything you did for me, mami. I've been thinking about your cunt clenching around me for so long," he suggested and you raised a brow as you looked at him. "You sure you want to do that after an injury?" You asked and he reassured you that he was fine, though he appreciated the concern.

Miguel took off your dress quickly after he got your consent, throwing it to the floor and bent down to kiss your neck and chest. He started to kiss every place that he had access to, treating your body like a masterpiece more than anything else. "You're so pretty, como una obra de arte," he whispered into your skin, nipping at the juncture on your neck. (like a work of art) You'd never felt so turned on with your previous partners and the man hadn't done anything but kiss you.

Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he kissed your lips, tasting your mint toothpaste as his tongue went in your mouth. His fingers were working on your cunt as he opened your cunt to fit around his cock, knowing that it would take some adjustment to get it to fit. He whispered how beautiful you were and how good you tasted in between kisses, each compliment sounding more needy than the last.

He aligned his cock with your cunt, slowly pushing it in as you engulfed his length. You felt a sting forming in between your legs as he bottomed out, the girth of his cock stretching you to your limits. He rubbed small circles on your stomach, his mouth coming down to attach on your breasts. "Don't listen to anybody who says anything about you, you're beautiful. Not just to me," he told you, looking into your eyes as he pulled his cock out. You were about to whine at the loss of contact but he quickly thrust it back in, getting into a steady rhythm.

"Gabriella’s been telling me how nice you are, how she wishes you were her mommy. How badly she wants a sibling," he moaned out in between thrusts, his head hanging low as he looked down at you. "Then make me a mommy, Miguel," you responded, your breasts moving with every thrust that he took. "I'll make you the prettiest mommy Nueva York's ever seen. Toda llena de leche y solo para mí," he responded, his thrusts growing more intense with every passing moment. (all full of milk and just for me)

He brought his mouth to your neck, kissing the skin as he left small marks for every one. "Tan rica que sabes y es tan injusto. You should be my dumb little wife, just available for me any time I want," he told you and you could feel that he was being serious, rather just saying this out of the intensity of the moment. (you taste so good and it’s so unfair) The realization made you want to kiss him, feel even more intimacy despite how close you were to him. It felt like you couldn't get enough of him, of his cock, of everything that he would give you, despite the fact that he was giving you what he could at the moment.

He rubbed your clit with his middle finger, working in tandem with every thrust that he took. Your legs began to shake with the intensity that he was thrusting inside of you, your toes curling and back arching as you felt that coil building up inside of you. Your orgasm washed over you with intensity you'd never faced before, your vision spotting as you tried to come down from the euphoria. Your walls tightened around his cock and you took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist to convey that you were being serious about him breeding you.

He looked down at you before burying his head on your shoulder, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he approached his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around his cock tightly, milking him for every drop of cum that he could offer. He pushed the cum deep inside as he took notice of it start to leak, making sure that it would take. He slid out of you with ease, rolling on his back next to you. Just the picture of your stomach round with his child and your tits full of milk made his cock grow hard once more.

"Let me just make sure that it takes properly, mami," he told you, moving on top of you as he got started to go once more. Needless to say, after each round he convinced you to keep going with him under the pretense that he just wanted to make sure that he'd pumped enough so it'd take.

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vcnillazelda · 1 year

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Hi! ^^ I don't know if you're still taking requests. I'm kind of new around here.

So If you can, I'd like to ask for headcanons or a scenario where Ghost / Soap / König has a crush on a recruit girl who is a very skilled sniper, but is constantly underestimated and even excluded by other military personnel for being short and mute?

ghost, soap and könig crushing on mute! recruit! reader

tags: pining, eventual relationship/getting together, confessions, protective! simon, könig’s is really long i’m sorry 😭

johnny and könig under cut

a/n: aaaaa this is adorable

✞———————❖———————✞

ghost

he’s nervous around you ngl

full on like palms sweaty and mild stammering it’s so cute

the fact you’re mute is kind of appealing to him, he likes your company because you don’t bother him like johnny does, you’ll listen if he speaks and offer some communication sometimes albeit his sign language is rusty

the moment he realised he’s in love with you is the first mission you went on. he’s seeking you out, knowing he can’t ask your location because you couldn’t respond. he gets a little anxious due to the lack of communication, it’s what keeps him sane, knowing his colleagues are okay.

he gets you a special radio so you can communicate better, putting an extra button on so you could beep it. one for yes, two for no, three for ‘i’m in danger’, yet simon’s the only one to know about that last one

is extremely impressed by your aim, the moment he saw a sliver of a man in a window you took him down.

back on base, he notices other rookies leaving you out of training, so you’d have no one to train with.

pulls you from that training session and offers private training with him (1. because he wants to help and feels bad you’re being ostracised, 2. because he wants to spend time with you and be close to you).

when he confessed to you and asked if you felt the same he thought it would be the end of everything, but you gave him a kind smile and nodded- simon has never been so happy

he’s nervous about dating, it’s been a long time and he’s not exactly a model lover or a ‘good man’, so you’ll have to be a little patient with him

soon after dating, he sticks around you all the time, hovering in your space whilst you’re practicing longer distance shots

no one dares to leave you out of anything when he’s by your side <3

johnny

he immediately befriends you, happily chatting away- he does enough talking for the both of you

doesnt realise you’re mute at first, he starts to think you don’t like him until you give him a note explaining your situation, he’s so relieved

people leaving you out? not when johnny’s here! he’ll argue with people before pulling you from that training group and into his own- he convinced price pretty easily due to your file being full of good comments from higher ups + your aim was incredible

is literally your best friend when you join 141 and then ghost team, he’s all smiley and talks for you

he doesn’t even need to communicate with you anymore to talk for you, he’s got a sixth sense for that type of thing it’s crazy

the moment he realised he loved you was when he was done arguing with someone about excluding you, then when he walked back to you, you had a sweet smile on your face, thanking him

because you’re short, he’ll 100% use your head as an armrest btw

he confesses in a pretty old-school way, a note, flowers and a sheepish grin on his face

when you hug him tight and nod he’s over the moon, scooping you into a bear hug and kissing your cheek

he’s much more straightforward and quick than simon, so if you feel your relationships moving too fast you’ve got to tell him lol

adores you and always praises your aim on missions

will always stick up for you, no matter what.

will want you to meet his family- and he comes from a large scottish family so be ready for that 😭

will get slightly jealous when you befriend his baby brother, agreeing to play games with him- this wasn’t meant to happen, you two just clicked and now johnny’s stuck between you two

gets all clingy afterwards, asking for your attention back- he’s so childish sometimes aidjdifjdfkdien

loves going out to places with you, so 100% your first date is in a nice restaurant tucked away in a nook in his hometown :)

könig

when he sees you being openly left out of things he genuinely feels for you, considering he was heavily bullied in school

he even gets left out of things now, and he’s one of the top snipers on the force

approaches you, hoping he doesn’t look to intimidating, and asks if you want to train with him

he’s dreading you saying no, but when you smile and accept he’s quite happy

he’s used to training alone, so there’s not much conversation as the two of you work on your aim

eventually, after a few training sessions, he strikes up a few conversations.

gets extremely anxious when you don’t respond, because he’s too busy looking down his scope to look at you, and drops it

you catch on that he’s put off and give him a small note explaining you’re mute

he’s so happy you don’t hate him because deep down he wants to be friends

soon after becoming friends, you don’t care that you’re being left out of things because you just blow them off and go hang out with your extremely tall austrian friend :)

the height difference between you two is very noticeable so some other operators start calling you two ‘big and small’ 😭

you’re the first person he tells his name to, he wants you to trust him and also wants you to know he trusts you

takes time out of his day to learn sign language so the two of you can talk easier, it’s really sweet to peer into his room and see him slowly practicing hand movements

the moment he realised he loved you was when the two of you were in his room, some soft music playing as you wrote something in your journal- you looked perfect in the lamplight and he wanted to kiss you

gets extremely anxious over the idea of liking you more than a friend, he doesn’t want to lose this friendship and has never actually dated anyone before considering he’s such a loner

he asks you out in a completely different way. leaves a note on your bed but isn’t there at all, doesn’t want to face rejection.

it’s easier on him because if you do reject him he can just pretend it never happened because he wasn’t there

when you sign the note saying ‘yes :)’ and leave it on his bed he’s so happy, immediately running to the practice range and hugging you

people ask what happened because it’s so out of character for him to hug someone, and he’ll just state that something good happened

is a very hands on, clingy lover. he’s never been in a relationship before and he didn’t realise at the time how starved he was for any type of affection that wasn’t maternal (he’s a mommas boy come on now)

speaking of which, if you agree to meet his mother he’s gonna kiss you immediately. is so delighted because off base his mother is the most important thing to him

she’s lovely too, never pressures you to talk despite not entirely understanding why you’re mute. gives you plenty of austrian food you’ve probably never had before and gives amazing hugs, she’s so happy her son found a girlfriend :)

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere creation

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

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First Time Crush

Hi. This is from a request that I received a little bit ago - sorry it took a while to get to. I know you asked for a teen!R but I don't feel too comfortable writing for 15/16 yr old teen (especially if it has a romantic component to the story), so just imagine R is 18/19 (adult but still teenager iykwim). I also have tried to be as vague as possible with the description of R's crush so you can tailor it/imagine whoever you want. If your name is Ellie I apologise but I wanted OC to be English and it is literally one of the most common names here. Anyways I hope you like it

Barcelona Femeni x Reader; OC x Reader

Description: R has her first crush

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

It was something that had never really bothered you before. No guys or girls had ever caught your eye in that way. But there she was, with high cheekbones and pouty lips, laughing with a few other girls. She looked about your age, and even more importantly, she wore your England jersey. You hadn't been staring at her – that would be weird – but if your gaze just happened to linger on that part of the stands, you couldn't help it, right?

"Oi, earth to Y/N! Get on with it," Lucy nudged you forward, pulling your attention away from the crowd. "What are you looking at, anyway?" she asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You cleared your throat and shook your head, trying to banish the pretty girl from your mind. "Nothing, nothing. Just … nothing," you tried to hide your blushing cheeks. Lucy thought she might have an idea about what – or who – had captured your interest so intently, but she let it be. You did have a game to play, after all.

It happened again the next home game you had. She was sitting with your England jersey on, and her hair was twisted into an effortless, messy pile on her head. She caught you staring – not staring per se, just … looking for a bit too long – and she smiled, a shy smirk that stretched into a wide grin, and your eyes widened. Yet, you were unable to look away. You had just won a tough match; it was a 3 – 0 win, with your name on the score sheet, but still – they had put up a fight for you. "Let's go and say hi, shall we?" Pina said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards where the girl was waiting. "No, Clau, no." You tried to resist, eventually, you managed to break free of her grasp and turned right into Bruna's open arms. "Aw, thanks for the hug, chica. But let's go and see who you've been staring at, yeh," she laughed as you tried to wiggle against her, but it was useless – her arms tightened and guided you towards the stands.

"Hola," Pina said to the group of girls waiting for you. "Soy Claudia," smiled politely at them. "y yo soy Bruna," there was an awkward pause, clearly meant for you to introduce yourself to them. You couldn't move, let alone introduce yourself to this beautiful stranger. "Esta es Y/N." Claudia took pity on you and spoke slowly like you would when encouraging a small child to speak. "Um, hold on, En-encantada de con-conocerte?" One of the girls tried to reply in Spanish. "Do you want us to speak in English?" Pina asked. "Please," she replied gratefully. It was subtle, but they eventually moved a little further away, leaving you standing helplessly on the pitch with the Beautiful Girl in front of you. "Hi, I'm Ellie," She reached her hand out for you to take. You blinked, looking down at her outstretched hand before back to those warm, soft eyes. "H-hi," you managed to squeak out. Clearly, you weren't going to shake her hand, so she awkwardly let it fall. "Great game out there. You played really well," she smiled at you. Your heart spluttered, and your breath hitched. You were going to die because a pretty girl smiled at you. You looked down at your boots, a very obvious blush blooming across your cheeks. The very awkward, one-sided conversation lasted only a few more painful minutes before your coaches called you inside. "It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. Hopefully, I'll see you at the next home game, yeh?" Ellie said before moving off to her friends.

"Oof, that was painful to watch, amiga," Bruna laughed, shoving you lightly and breaking you out of your trance. "Sí, I've never seen anything so … awful," Pina added, dragging you towards the tunnel. Just as you slipped out of sight, you looked back, hoping to catch a final glimpse of Ellie. To your surprise, she was already staring at you. She lifted her hand and waved gently as she caught your eyes before turning back to walk up the steps. "I don't even know what happened. It was like I couldn't breathe, or move, or … do anything!" You looked between the 2 of them. "You, mi amiga, have a crush," Claudia explained at precisely the wrong time. Alexia, Marta, Lucy, Ingrid, Mapi and Patri had just emerged from the physio rooms.

"Estás enamorada?" Mapi asked, slightly too gleefully. Ingrid – recognising the signs of Mapi's excitement – tapped her not-too-gently on the head. "Aye," Mapi exclaimed as she ducked out of the way of any more 'loving taps'. "Pequeña, estás enamorada?" she asked again, an unrecognisable emotion in her voice. "I … I don't know." You were genuinely perplexed. You had never felt like this before "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" Patri asked exasperatedly. "I don't know," you said again with slightly more anger in your voice. "Well, do you like her or not?" Patri put her hands on her hips and stood in front of you as you sat in your cubby. "I – I don't know. I don't know what I feel." Patri huffed, her arms flinging out in exacerbation. You didn't know what you had done wrong. "Well, cariño, what do you feel when you see her? I'm assuming it's a her." Ingrid asked gently, coming to sit beside you on the bench. "I … I don't know that either," you whispered, ashamed that you didn't understand your own emotions. You were an adult—why couldn't you recognise simple feelings? "That's ok," Alexia said kindly, coming to sit on your other side. "When I first started seeing Olga, I couldn't stop blushing and smiling whenever I thought about her," she paused, allowing you to think about Ellie – you didn't smile, but you definitely felt your cheeks heat up. "And I could hardly function around Ingrid," Mapi said, coming to stand next to Ingrid and caressing her hand across her shoulder. “It's like I didn't know how to be human when she was around me." Ingrid looked up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Not me," Lucy chimed in. "I was cool as a cucumber," that eased the emotion in the room slightly, making everyone laugh. "No, you weren't," Keira and Ona said simultaneously, giving each other a knowing look. "It's ok to not know how you feel," Frido smiled at you from across the room. "About someone or anything else. Not knowing is also an emotion." She winked at you. You nodded sombrely.

Ellie had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks. It was finally another home game, and you were quietly hopeful that you might be able to see her. You couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her warm eyes, her caramel voice. As soon as you stepped onto the pitch, your eyes scanned the crowd, trying to catch sight of the familiar England jersey. Your heart sank a little when you couldn't find her. "Trying to find chica amante, amiga?" Jana asked, smirking at your embarrassed blush—but you didn't stop looking. You really hoped Ellie was here; you wanted to get your name on the score sheet again to impress her. "Cállate," You brushed her off, jogging away to join the older girls for warm-ups.

You still hadn't found Ellie before kick-off, and it was starting to dampen your mood a little. You were no longer quietly radiating excitement, and everyone could tell. "Está bien, penqueña, just because you can't find her doesn't mean she's not here." Irene rubbed your arms as you waited in the tunnel. "Does – does everyone on the team know?" You asked a little dejectedly. "Sí, cariño, todos en el equipo lo saben. Even Jona and the coaching staff." That really didn't help your mood. All of your closest friends knew about your crush; even your boss knew. You wished the ground would swallow you whole.

To say you played poorly would be mean. But you didn't play to your usual standard. You made silly mistakes you never usually made, giving the ball away when your usual passes were precise and accurate. You were unsurprised when your number flashed on the screen, indicating you were being subbed off. You sat down with a huff, Esmee's hand coming to hold yours tightly in hopes of comforting you. Today was most definitely not your day.

When the final whistle went, you tried to bolt straight to the changing rooms, but an immovable Alexia stood in your way. "Ale, por favor. I just want to go have a shower and go to bed. Please." You really were not in the mood to interact with anyone, let alone fans or be anywhere near a camera. "No, penqueña. Vamos a dar una vuelta al estadio, sí?" Her tone left no room for argument. You begrudgingly agreed and let her drag you around, fake smiling and signing things for fans, but it was obvious you didn't really want to be there.

"Vamos, pequeña. Hay alguien que creo que quizás quieras ver." Alexia said as she came to a stop near Ellie's usually stand. "Ale, please. I don't want to-" You started to turn around. "That's a shame" That sweet, silky, soft voice you had memorised cut through your pleas. You spun back around, quickly spotting Ellie, not wearing your England jersey. You felt a slight pang of hurt. That was stupid. It's just a shirt. She doesn't have to wear it. "Do you like my shirt?" Ellie asked, a playful smile teasing her lips. The Barca home jersey was slightly oversized and styled immaculately, tucked into her bra to crop it slightly, exposing a sliver of skin on her torso. You nodded profusely, but no answer was leaving your lips. "De quién es el número que obtuviste?" Alexia stepped in, obviously taking pity on you. "Um … número? Oh, um, number 3." You wore number 3. You blinked and blushed intensely. Alexia nudged you slightly. She sighed and left you alone with Ellie. "You played well," She started. You scoffed. "No, I didn't," You fiddled with your fingers, avoiding her gaze. "Yes, you did. You got an assist. I saw it." She smirked, twisting a loose piece of hair around her fingers and tilting her head. "I let the ball go so many times. I couldn't concentrate." You whispered, wishing the conversation was about anything else. "But you got it back every time, right? It was very impressive," she chuckled quietly at your awkwardness. "Gra-graci, uh, thanks," you stumbled over your words. "You don't do this very often, do you?' Ellie took sympathy on you. You clearly were out of your depth. "Do what?" You finally made eye contact with her. Your breath hitched, and you couldn't decide whether you never wanted to stop looking at them or turn away. "Flirt," she said as if it were obvious. “I've been flirting with you for weeks now," she explained. She was flirting with you? You blinked owlishly at her. "Here," she took the pen out of your hand, reaching for your arm and scrawling on it. It tickled a little, but you couldn't deny you liked having her this close to you … and holding your hand. You studied her as she wrote; her tongue stuck out slightly, and her eyes narrowed as she focused. "That is my number. You better use it. Otherwise, I will be very sad." She grinned cheekily at you. You nodded, cheeks crimson and unable to move. "Good," she said softly. "Now, you better go," she gently squeezed your chin. "Alexia and Ingrid look like they're waiting for you," she nodded behind you. You wanted to turn but couldn't. Not when she was so close to you. She wiggled her eyebrows, pointed at her number on your arm and shouted, "Use it," as she sauntered away.

"El bebe tiene novia," Alexia sang out as you joined them, her hands coming to ruffle your hair and pinch your bright red cheeks. "Ingrid," you whined, burying your face against her arm. "Make her stop." She laughed brightly. "Kjæreste, this is nothing compared to what is waiting for you with the others," Ingrid laughed as you pushed yourself further into her chest, dreading what awaited you in the changing rooms. But the more you thought about it, the less bothered you were.

Because you got the beautiful stranger's number.

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 1 month

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SUMMARY : In which you let your husband take your virginity on your wedding night.

PAIRINGS: Dilf Taehyung x virgin reader

WORD COUNT :2K

SMUT WARNINGS: Unprotected sex (off course) ,cum eating, oral f. Eating out over panties, fingering, squirting, mention of blood (her cherry popped)! Titty sucking, aftercare ladies <3

A/N: A little something as I’ve reached 1k heheh thank you so much lovelies and i hope you liked this one and thank you my love 💖 @jj-one who helped me with this one and also @kingofbodyrolls who made this sexy banner💖

The beach was filled with fragrant blooms, an array of white and pink tulips adorned the set up, a gentle breeze softly tickles the groom's hair and he smiles looking at you walking hand in hand with your father holding a small bouquet of lilies.

Your wedding veil cascades down your back, complementing the silk lace and pearls embroiled on the dress, making you feel like a fairy princess. Nervously walking down the aisle with your father you blush the moment you see your husband, soft music and doting cheers follows in the background the moment you took each step.

Soon reaching upon you face the love of your life Kim Taehyung, your dad places your hand on your husband’s and some tears brim his eyes, asking him to always protect you and keep you happy forever. He chuckling upon his request, promising to keep you happy for the rest of his life while kissing the back of your palm and whispers "you look so beautiful my love." You visibly chuckle and mutter him a small "thanks, you look handsome as well".

You never thought you would end up with your casual fling that you met from an app, remembering it was one of your friends who had signed you up on the app after you broke up with your toxic ex. On the other side, Taehyung's friend, Jungkook, had signed him up when divorced his wife, thinking it was a good idea to get out of the grief and have some fun.

Your interests he was afraid if he came clean about his son you would leave.

He was sure he had fallen in love with you over the past year from just chatting and calling each other daily. It made him feel like he was a young man again and not a 38-year-old man who had a kid who would depend on for a few more years.

Taehyung was also afraid of the 16-year-old age gap, thinking it was too soon for you to commit to a lifelong relationship which included a child.

He had enough of it when he finally decided to take you on a date and coming clean about it. He came fully prepared to tell you about his son and break this situation you were in, he liked (read: Loves) you, but he didn't want you to live with the pressure of living with a child as you were young, and you had so much to experience.

In the cozy coffee shop, soft jazz played in the background while you nervously fidget on the chair, summing up the courage to tell him that you had started liking him and can see a future together. The man in front of you gave a crooked smile, continuing to surf through the menu.

"What will you have Y/n?" Taehyung asks as he skims each and every item written on the menu, his leg bouncing under the table due to anxiety.

"I love you Taehyung," you say at the same time as he began talking, he goes blank, the menu dropping from his hands while you mentally facepalm at yourselves. "Fuck I shouldn't have dropped this bomb this early.”

"What?" Taehyung gasps and then visibly gulps, and you return a crooked smile back. "Yes tae, I love you I've been loving you for a while now.." you confess once again, and he shutters "We-ll y/n m-e too" he says as if he's exclaiming, and you smile wide.

"But wait y/n, before I properly confess I want to tell you something," Taehyung nervously adds, becoming restless. Observing his moments you grab his spare hand which rested on the table and tell him to calm down.

"Y/n, you know I’m divorced, right? But I'm sorry I have hidden something very big from you, I have a five-year-old son Yi-hyun" he says, and you gasp "Oh my god, tae why did you hide this for so long?" you question, he fiddles with his fingers and explains his insecurities and chances of you leaving him.

"No tae, I would never, in fact, I love children and I would really love to spend my whole life with you." You blush as those words come out and Taehyung giggles, "I'll be more than glad and feel honored to stay with you for the rest of my life."

Taehyung gazes into your eyes, his eyes full of love and promises, the gentle breeze makes the few whips of your flix fly, and he thinks you look so pretty, soon the calm breeze carries out your wedding vows and seals all the promises of this lifetime commitment.

Yi-hyun stands right in the middle of you and Taehyung's parents, an uproar of cheers and claps filled the atmosphere when you exchange your rings. Glancing at him, you give a flying kiss and he acts to catch it, your husband won't stop at looking you with heart eyes.

It was soon evening while you and your husband basked in the warmth of newly wed love, surrounded by all your supporting family and friends. He occasionally steals a few kisses from you when you both slow danced and enjoyed the dance until it was time to make your grand exit and walk hand in hand till you reached your car.Your parents insisted on keeping your son for a couple of days until you come back from the honeymoon.

"Yi- hyun, don't trouble your grandparents okay baby? Be a good boy for me and your mom okay?" Your husband tells your son and he nods , he kisses yours and his father's and climbs down from his grasp and tells you both a "goodbye".

"Let's go baby been waiting for this day ever since I met you, gonna fuck you hard," Taehyung says with lust-filled eyes, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He lays a few soft pecks, soliciting a gasp from you, letting out the smallest whimper of his name.

The ride to your house was short, your husband helped to get you out of the car and quickly thanked the driver, not even a minute later your back meets the door of your penthouse as your husband starts to devour your mouth with his, heavy kisses full of spit coats your lips.

You were taken aback for a few seconds until your mind processes his action, kissing your lover back with the same burning passion, you struggle a bit until you get the keys from the back pocket of Taehyung's pants.

"One Sec baby, let me just open this, and we can go inside," you say almost breathlessly in between kisses, turning around. Once inside, both you and his clothes join the ground soon. "I'll go slow baby okay? It's your first time, right? Gonna savour every last moment of this." Taehyung assures you, and you nod.

Never in your twenty-two years of living did you have sex with your boyfriend. Sex was a whole different thing you’ve yet to experience but you weren't a saint when it came to it either, the curious teen in you would look up porn and even tried masturbating before, but you just didn’t feel anything from it, you thought you were doing something wrong.

Taehyung helped you to get comfortable in the bed whilst he removes the last piece of his clothing, his boxers, while you had kept your panties on, feeling your cunt coating the plumpness of his lips with your slick. You moan at the movement as he hovers above you, "ready baby?" your husband sweetly asks, you nod and voice a simple "yes.”

Soft, gentle kisses are first felt on your neck and the light touch of his fingertips tickles your lower belly, coming dangerously close to your core. His nimble fingers nudge the bow on your lace panties, sucking in your breath when he slowly goes down to explore the rest of your body, sucking on your skin lightly as he trails his way down. Soon purple hues are decorated all over you.

Once he faces your core, his hot breath leaves you tingly inside, whimpering out his name as he slowly licks a wet strip of over the fabric of your panties and sucks on the ball of your clit, repeating his languid motion again and again, his eyes watching you above him. You’re left nothing short of a moaning mess, "fuck feels so good tae, just like that baby.." you express him how good he’s making you feel when he sucks and licks you over your panties, this new sensation was like no other.

Soon after a while he completely removes them off your body, groaning at the mess you made and his fingers rub over it so he could have some of you on his fingers. "Open baby" he affirms, you ecstatically take them in your mouth sucking off each finger one by one, he chuckles and bites back a moan. He thinks you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen.

"Gonna finger you baby, stay calm okay? I promise it's gonna soon feel okay." He assures and slowly inserts one of his fingers, you moan out loud as it feels different from what you felt while playing with yourself.

One finger soon turned into two and you felt something weird coming out, "Taehyung stop-stop, something's coming out," you breathlessly warn but he tells you to go on and doesn’t stop fingering you, only upping his pace. Liquid soon gushes out, "fuck baby, pretty girl" never failing to fluster you and make you blush, shying away and looking everywhere but his eyes.

His frame hovers above yours and tells you to rest properly, "Baby, is it okay?" He asks before continuing. His hard cock brushing over your soaked pussy lips, itching to be inside your warm cunt, his fingers part your lips while you involuntarily twitch, feeling weightless as his thumb rubs gentle circles along your sensitive clit. "Ready y/n? Look we don't have to do it tonight you can always back out baby" he says while you whimper at the loss. "N-no want it so bad I can take it" you eagerly said, leaning in to kiss his lips. "It might hurt at first, but then it's going to be okay, I promise my darling." With that, he slowly aligns himself with you and enters inside, causing you to both moan in unison.

Kissing your forehead to calm you down when he sees faint tears brimming your eyes, he pulls out just enough so he can spit in between you two to make the slide much easier. He notices some blood as you were still a virgin— up until now, beads of sweat drip from the sides of him and some of it lands onto your boobs. He attached his lips to suckle them, seeing your pretty mouth open wide and decides to slip his finger in, your body rises a bit when he tells you to see the bloody mess and you whimper while he pets your head with his other hand.

"Calm down baby you’re gripping me so hard.." he groans from the way you’re sucking him up and you try your best to relax your muscles and try to enjoy this feeling while occasionally kissing him, moaning at his touches. He rests his forehead on top of yours and soon he cums inside, gasping from his overwhelming orgasm, he slowly pushes himself up and removes his now softened cock. You feel the cum dripping down to your ass. “Wait up baby, I'm gonna get something to clean you up.” He smiles dotingly and you nod back at him.

Soon he cleans you both up and brings you a glass of water to drink, he’s cuddling with you as his fingers lace with yours. Soft kisses resound the room until you both knock down in each other's embrace.

You decide to wake him up with a good, morning blow job but who knew it would be him to be waking you up instead.

#Taehyung smut #kim taehyung #kim Taehyung smut #kim Taehyung fanfiction #Kim Taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #Taehyung fluff #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #v smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #Dilf Taehyung #Virgin reader #cherry prick #bts v #Bts #bts fanfic bts smut

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kikohao · 2 months

Text

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. operation: one bed

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; agent!jeonghan x agent!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; you and jeonghan were assigned a case together, you both played the roles of an engaged couple. why is it that you had to share a bed to sell the act? ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; spy au, one bed trope. fluff, mentions of seungcheol, soonyoung, and joshua ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing, kissing, slight jealousy, use of nicknames ("babe") ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 2k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; one bed trope with jeonghan has been rotting my mind for almost a week omg im really happy i was able to finish it on time! i've never really wrote a "kissing" scene before so im really sorry if its weird bye 😭 requests are always open! (texts, ot13 scenarios, drabbles, fics, mtls, etc) send an ask to be added to my taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated! <3

"Agent Kim, do you hear me?" You try to maintain a formal persona, as you talk into your built-in earphones as you make your way to the grand venue.

"Loud and clear. Make sure your earpiece is switched on at all times." A tuneless voice followed.

Upon entering the hotel, you and Jeonghan were greeted by the expansive lobby that screamed elegance and sophistication.

"They must be bloody rich," Jeonghan muttered quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. He was right though, there were multiple marble chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow upon all the guests.

It was extraordinarily exquisite.

"Pass the details," Jeonghan spoke into his earpiece as we moved to a certain corner of the corridors, hoping to maintain a low profile throughout the whole party.

After a few shufflings of his notes, he responded.

"Agent Yoon, you're Jacob Choi, son of the most prestigious Grand Celestial Palace. I'm pretty sure no one would go into more detail about you, but make sure they buy the act. We can't risk anything. Agent Y/N, you're Ana Wang, Jacob's fiancee, I'll get back to both of you with more details on the individuals. For now, you both are an engaged couple, seemingly having an Alliance with Mr. Lin."

"Got it."

You and Jeonghan made your way towards the reception to mark you both in now that you've got your "personal" details. By doing so, you both were accompanied by a middle-aged man, possibly someone who worked there. He wore a black suit and bow, around 5'8?

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," Agent Kim spoke from the earpiece.

"Why are you so tense?" Jeonghan muttered, "I'm not." You replied swiftly with a scoff earning nothing but a soft chuckle from him that kept on making my ears ring.

Why did your stomach suddenly start to churn? You disregarded it, possibly assuming it was hunger or thirst. Your train of thought was interrupted by a man who made his way towards us. He looked old, although, his rosy cheeks and flawless demeanor said otherwise. Guess he was the well-known, Mr. Lin.

"Oh, Mr. Choi!" He exclaimed out loud for everyone to hear, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and shaking it vigorously.

You tried extremely hard to keep in the giggles that were trying to escape your mouth as you looked at Jeonghan's reaction to the sudden interaction from the man. You forcibly had to look away because you knew you'd fuck things up the second you made eye contact with him.

"It's been so long! How're you and your fiancee? Ms. Wang ain't it?" He questioned, looking towards you. Maybe it was just you and your overthinking capabilities, but you swore something was off about how he looked at you compared to how he looked at Jeonghan, but you decided to brush it off.

"We're doing quite well, thank you." Jeonghan put out, maintaining a calm composure that very well contrasted with his normal personality.

"How's your mom doing? I'm so sorry that happened to her," continued the man. You and Jeonghan shared a quick glance at each other, one that said -- "Oh we're so fucked if we mess this up."

"Mom is doing quite well, thanks for asking. She's doing much better." You replied, noticing the intense tension that followed. Seems like staying here for too long may be risky.

"Babe, why don't we get something to eat? I'm starving." You shared teasingly, looking at Jeonghan, enjoying the flushed expression that lay on his face as you managed to throw in a pout to make it seem more genuine. You both needed to instantly get away for a while to ask Agent Kim about the next plan, and this was the only resort.

Jeonghan excused himself as walked towards one of the empty tables, hand in hand. As soon as we took our seats, Jeonghan voiced through his earpiece, "What do we do next?"

"So far, we haven't found anything. And, I'm guessing neither have the two of you. I checked with Agent Kwon regarding the party details. Seems like everyone attending is encouraged to stay the night, I'm pretty sure it's just for them to make more affiliates, either that or just to show off how rich they are. Either way, I and the crew think it would be beneficial if you did so, in order to uncover more details on Mr. Lin, it would also help in selling your facade since I'm pretty sure he's catching up with suspicions of his."

"Are you sure about that?" You spoke softly into the earpiece, observing the surrounding area, "It sounds quite risky,"

"It is, indeed, but it's your call on whether you want to."

You look at Jeonghan, he seems to have similar thoughts as you do -- he doesn't seem too fond of the idea.

"What do you 'reckon?" you ask him, simultaneously taking a sip of the non-alcoholic wine they'd provided all the attendees.

"Well, it is pretty risky. But, we'd better do as per Mr. Kim and Mr. Kwon since we'd have to put up with these titles until we get the requirements. It'd help sell the act." He finally spoke.

It was unusual. It was unusual how he seemed calm and collected amidst something like this. You'd imagined him to be some kind of reckless person like the persona he usually played so you weren't quite fond of going with him.

You nodded -- he had a point. The faster Mr. Lin believed us, possibly the quicker we could get this case over with.

And, this was it.

Jeonghan hurried towards the hotel management before it was too late to get a room while you sat at your spot, gazing at everyone who attended such a social gathering.

Guess you realized you zoned out when a young man, maybe in his 20s, sat next to you and started up a conversation like good old friends.

"No way, Ana? Is that you?" He put up a question, his face in awe.

"Oh, yes, hello." you manage to spit out, giving off a small smile as you gaze at Jeonghan, his back facing towards you as he converses with the management team.

Guess I'm fucked.

"You were never the one for these kinda parties, you always mentioned that they were too crowded. Guess you grew out of your phase?" He smiled cheekily avoiding the fact that he most possibly just insulted you, or at least the role you're currently playing.

Is this gaslighting?

A phase? How is not wanting to go out and talk with people a phase? You didn't know who Ana was nor did you ever meet her, but you most certainly didn't like someone like him straight up insulting someone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, maintaining a small smile. The last thing you wanted was your cover to get blown.

"Oh, Nothing. How's Jacob? He be treating you well?" He continued as he took a small sip from his cocktail drink.

You nodded, glancing every now and then at your so-called "companion" who's left you to talk to some guy who supposedly knows you. It made you laugh how he thinks he's all that -- you could easily spot how the guy was wearing a worn-out suit and tie, most probably already used, and how he just seemed sketchy.

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight,"

He did seem quite sketchy.

You spotted Jeonghan making his way back, guess God did hear your prayers after all. As soon as the guy spotted "Jacob" making his way towards us, he excused himself and left. Possibly to get another drink.

"Guess who managed to get us a room with my good looks," he winked at you, holding the keys high up. You couldn't help but chuckle.

Cute, you thought. Instantly regretting it when Jeonghan pointed out who flushed your face looked.

"Oh shut it, Yoon. Look, now you've ruined the mood." You shot back before he got a chance to say something sly.

His smile didn't last long though. "Oh and, who was that?" He asked, most likely mentioning the guy who'd been talking with you while he went to get the keys.

"Some guy who knows Ana. No clue, but he seemed sketchy." You replied, taking the keys from him.

A few hours passed with nothing but talking with the other participants, drinking, eating, talking again, drinking, talking...

"Huge thanks to everyone who was able to attend today. I wish all those returning back home a safe ride. Everyone who's staying for the night, you may make your way towards your rooms. Have a wonderful night!" Mr. Lin spoke out after clinking his wine glass, attaining attention from everyone present in the hall.

You followed Jeonghan as you made your way toward your room, slightly gazing in awe at all the picturesque art on the walls.

As soon as we entered our rooms, we both noticed the same exact thing.

There was only one bed.

One bed.

Anyone would expect Jeonghan to take up the sofa that was present in the room. Well, guess what? You were wrong.

There was a minute of silence before Jeonghan spoke out loud. "I'm taking the bed. You can take the bed if you want, but I'm not taking the sofa if that's what you're thinking." He smirked as he took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack before heading towards the bed.

Well, what did you expect?

That Jeonghan would give up the bed?

No chance and not at all surprising.

"You're such a gentleman aren't you?" You placed your shoes alongside him, making your way to the bed, not ready to give it up either. "They should've sent Joshua with me," You sighed out loud for him to hear.

"Joshua?"

"Well, anyone taking a good look at us would know that we're meant to be," You reasoned, followed by a breathy scoff from Jeonghan. You cooed at his reaction, "Aw, babe, didn't know you were the jealous type," you added, teasingly. You hated to admit it but playing Ana was fun.

"Yeah, right."

We both had got into bed by the time it was 11. You switched the lamp that was present in your dimly lit room.

4 AM.

He stared right at me, with his dusk-brown eyes. But, it wasn't a normal stare. But a stare that held desire within. You both faced towards each other, the middle barrier made of pillows long gone.

"What?" You slurred slightly, still half-asleep, heart, leaping in your chest.

It was now that you realized that you failed to realize how ethereal he looked. His tired eyes bore into yours, as his bangs lay lazily on his face.

He leaned in slightly, reducing the gap between us.

"Your eyes are really pretty," He muttered. It always amazed you how he didn't have much of a deep voice like other men, but still seemed dominant without it.

That was a stab to the heart. Not in a bad way though. In a way that made you want to kiss him. You wanted to hold him.

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but you swore you couldn't breathe as soon as he gently placed his lips, carefully molded into a heart, onto yours, locking it in place for a swift second before pulling away.

It lasted like a second or two, but your face looked as if you'd just run a marathon.

"Yoon, are you drunk?" you finally spoke out, not believing what just happened. You thoroughly enjoyed it, but how could he kiss you just like that?

"Yoon doesn't sit right with me, 'Babe' sounds much better."

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

Olá, adorei sua escrita, peço desculpas por quaisquer erros de digitação (inglês não é minha primeira língua).

Gostaria de solicitar algo com poly!marauders reagindo a eles no meio de alguma discussão, e quando levantam a voz ou fazem alguma movimento repentino ela apenas se encolhe de medo

(só escreva se você se sentir confortável com isso, peço desculpas se for um assunto delicado)

No worries, sweetness! I worry I don't communicate this very well on my requests page, but so long as any abuse is in the past and not still happening while the story takes place, I'm totally good! Thank you so much for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

cw: implied past abuse

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your face is burning hot, and you’re hoping no one can tell it’s from how hard you’re working to hold back tears.

“I’m telling you,” James says with a severity that doesn’t suit him, “they’re not good for you. You need to stop hanging around them.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wave him off, relieved that your voice comes out as even as it does. “They’re my friends.”

“They don’t fucking act like your friends.” Sirius is looking at you like you’re stupid, and you try not to tremble in the face of his anger. Every muscle in your body had tensed at the first show of frustration, an exasperated huff from Remus nearly ten minutes ago, and it’s only gotten worse since. You know, logically, that this situation doesn’t call for fight-or-flight, but there’s no telling your nervous system that. “They left you drunk and completely alone in the middle of the night. They’re assholes.”

“What, just because you don't like them?” You glower at Sirius from across the room, and James shakes his head disappointedly from the couch. “You don’t get to dictate who I hang out with!”

“You’re completely blind to it!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“That’s enough!” Remus roars, and everything else ceases to matter.

Your shoulders hunch in to protect your middle, one hand coming up in front of your face instinctively as your eyes squeeze shut.

It’s only an instant of terror, shooting through your nerves like a lightning strike, and then your heart starts beating again, now at double time. You raise your head to find Remus looking cracked open, mouth parted in silent shock and anguish.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, holding up your hands as if to ward off the effects of what you’ve just done. You’re trembling all over. “I’m sorry, that was—I didn’t mean to.”

“Sweetheart.” James starts to reach for you, then stops, wrapping his arms around his torso like he’ll lunge for you if not restrained. His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over your own heartbeat. “Don’t apologize, please. Are you okay?”

You nod, fighting the urge to shake out the adrenaline still working its way through your body. “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to react like that. It wasn’t you guys, I’m sorry.” A traitorous tear skids down your face. You brush it away.

“No.” The word sounds like it’s hooked from inside Remus’ throat and scraped forcibly out. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m so sorry.” He looks at you, eyes imploring. “Do you wanna sit down?”

“I’m fine,” you say again.

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows come together in pity. “You’re shaking all over. Come sit, we don’t have to fight anymore.”

You blow out a frustrated breath, ignoring the warm wetness on your cheeks as more tears escape. “I’m not—I don’t want to stop fighting just because of this. I feel like I’m manipulating you,” you say, tone edged with bitterness. “I’m not trying to, though. Can we just forget that happened?”

“Hey,” Sirius says, uncharacteristically firm, “stop that.” You’d been afraid to make eye contact with him before, but now you turn to find he’s looking at you like you’ve clawed his heart right out. You’re all the more miserable for it, for the pain you know you’re dredging up for him. You both have experience with raised voices and forceful gesturing. Both harbor old and unreliable notions about what those lead to, instincts you can’t shed. “You can’t manipulate us by accident, understand? You don’t always have control over reactions to things like that. Just…” His forehead creases with a helplessness you recognize. “Just take a breath.”

He waits, eyes boring into yours, until you do. It shakes on the way out, but it feels good.

“Okay. Do you want a hug?”

Your throat clogs so no words can pass through, but you nod, and Sirius steps toward you. His arms come around you slow but solid, feeling out how much you want. You press your face the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, hands clutching at his back, and he tightens his grip on you. Under your hand, you can feel his heart beating almost as desperately as yours.

Sirius doesn’t quite release you as he walks the both of you to the couch, folding you into his lap, but you pull away once your tremors ease. James looks miserable with worry, and you take his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you say. It’s as close to an apology as you expect they’ll allow you.

“Don’t worry about that,” Remus insists. “I mean it, I shouldn’t have raised my voice that way. Regardless of your history, it was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

You give him the best smile you can offer at the moment. “It’s okay, really.”

“You’re not manipulating anyone,” Sirius says, hand still tight around your waist, “but let’s save the rest of that conversation for another time, yeah?”

You nod reluctantly, and James gives Sirius a pleading look until he lets you go, nudging you into James' side. “I’m fine,” you insist again as he presses his lips to the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm. “Don’t worry about me.”

He scoffs lightly, kissing downward to your forehead, the tip of your nose. “I always worry about you. Nothing you can do about that.”

Some of the tension clears from Remus’ countenance as he watches you. “I agree, let’s pick that discussion back up when we all have clearer heads. Dovey, can I make you some tea?”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” you argue as James moves his attentions to your cheek.

“Oh, let him,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes, “it’ll make him feel better. You can make me some tea, Moony.”

“I’ll take some, too,” James says. “If it’ll help, of course. Actually, do we have any biscuits?”

You laugh as Remus sets off happily for the kitchen.

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amomentsescape · 2 months

Note

hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)

I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.

(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)

Slashers with Mermaid! Reader

Yandere! Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).

Freddy Krueger

Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life

He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death

You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world

Your dynamic is pretty ideal too

Whenever you sleep, you can visit him

And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi

He does this quite often, in fact

He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried

You're his

He doesn't trust anyone being around you

Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately

He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world

He can create the perfect environment for you

Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires

Which hopefully it does

Since he isn't willing to wait much longer

Michael Myers

He never thought creatures like you actually existed

But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment

He visits more often then you think

He's always around, watching

You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from

He enjoys watching you swim and just relax

But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you

There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill

But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy

He hates seeing you touch other people

And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise

He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times

You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason

But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear

He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before

He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current

But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness

He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories

But he knows that's nearly impossible

He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest

You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job

He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you

He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?

Thomas Hewitt

In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you

But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten

And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others

He was kind to you

And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can

You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells

He wears every single one of them

Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you

But Thomas can only take so much

Why can't you be closer?

He knows the family would love you

And he could make you so happy

His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it

He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you

He's just got to be patient

Bubba Sawyer

His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days

But he just couldn't help it

You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side

He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it

He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else

That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!

That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again

He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it

This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else

You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty

And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same

He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it

Brahms Heelshire

He hates this dynamic between you two

He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else

No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him

He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop

He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does

It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times

He wants that too, so desperately

Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days

Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you

He insists it's to keep you safe

In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while

And you can thank Brahms for that

The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them

He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him

Norman Bates

It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real

He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream

He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters

But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once

He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster

Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7

He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you

He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times

He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together

Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough

Billy Loomis

Doesn't tell a single soul about you

Not even Stu

And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people

He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you

Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water

Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales

He just thinks you're all around incredible

But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation

He wants to walk around town with you, show you off

He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be

And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times

He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general

He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him

He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him

Stu Macher

He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death

And Stu was immediately enamored

He comes to see you whenever he can

He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you

He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him

You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him

He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people

How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list

He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before

He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you

And if you argue against it, he will shut down

The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker

Vincent Sinclair

Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made

You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7

He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell

He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him

He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to

But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him

Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil

Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people

The only one who should be receiving that attention is him

Barely sleeps at night

He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes

Is overall obsessed even more than you know

Bo Sinclair

If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush

The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly

You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life

He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you

He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live

But little do you know of his darker nature

He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them

He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him

And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you

You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted

You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea

It will be a great surprise

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

(Be)Longing

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Mutual rescue, mutual jealousy, longing and belonging.

Warnings: None, really. Angst, jealousy, fluff. Shyness and insecurities. Minor character injuries. Time jumps.

Word Count: 5.2k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill here (request: Benedict x shy!insecure reader, with some angst, jealousy fluff, and all the good stuff. Happy ending, of course.). Sorry it took so long to get to this Nonny; I have no idea if this is what you wanted, and I'm really not sure about it, but I hope you enjoy <3

I: Saved

“Unhand her at once!”

The smooth, confident, older voice rings out across the village green, and suddenly the pack of nasty bullies who have your arms in a grip seem to melt away from around you.

You don’t even think to pause and thank the person who broke up the mob. No, your fight-or-flight response is in full-on flight mode. The minute your arms are released, and you see the break in the circle, you run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. Bolting down the road and into the safety of the churchyard near your house. You do not want to run home upset and worry your mother, so you do the next best thing, the thing you are becoming increasingly good at, hiding. You climb a crabapple tree. And then you let the tears flow—just flooding down your cheeks.

You hate this new village your parents have moved you to. Your father, a doctor, had been offered the position as village physician, and now here you are, moved from Surrey to Kent, but it might as well be the other side of the world. You miss your friends. You miss your old village. You are not the most outgoing of people, and the upheaval in your life has been immense. You yearn to be back in your old, familiar, comfortable home.

You are sniffling, taking deep breaths, angrily wiping tears, and preparing to face your family when he appears.

“Are you alright?”

You startle. Beneath you, squinting up into the tree, is the owner of the voice who rescued you. Seeing him now, you feel an odd warmth in your ribs. He looks older, maybe fifteen, if you had to guess. He seems benign with a calm face, and his expression is one of sympathy and concern.

“Yes,” you squeak quietly.

“It is safe for you to come down,” he says gently, “should you wish.”

“Are they gone?” you query, wishing you could hide the tremble in your voice.

“They will not bother you again; I can assure you,” he states with absolute certainty.

Your eyes go wide, “What did you do? I don't want to make it worse for my brother,” you fret.

“I told them if they mess with you again, they will have the Bridgerton brothers to contend with,” he nods, with an air that suggests the name is of some local import.

“Is that you?” you ask timidly, not wanting to get down from the tree just yet.

He chuckles. “You must be new here?”

“Yes… we just moved here two weeks ago. Those boys have been tormenting my brother since his first day at school. They appear to have chosen me to pick on as he is not around,” you frown, dusting a twig from your skirt.

“Well, that ends now. Now, do you need help down?” he asks.

“No,” you sniffle, “I am capable.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” he nods politely and steps aside to allow you space to jump down.

With a quick swing, you do so, landing neatly on your little brown boots. You unfurl to your full standing height, but even then, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Very impressive,” he smiles warmly. “I am Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Welcome to Kent.” he thrusts out a hand to shake and, bemused at the formality, you take it and shake as if a businessman, not a ten-year-old girl.

“Thank you, Benedict. I am y/n y/l/n. My father is the new physician,” you gesture vaguely over the church wall towards your home next to the rectory.

“Ahhh,” he nods in understanding.

“And thank you,” you curtsy.

“Whatever for?” he frowns.

“For rescuing me,” you clarify.

“Oh please, that was nothing,” he waves dismissively. “I cannot abide bullies. Or any injustice really,” his eyes appear briefly unfixed, and he looks thoughtful, as if what he said just occurred to him as truth. Then he shakes his head and brings his attention back to you. “You are alright, though, correct? Able to get home?”

“Yes,” you confirm shyly.

“Then I shall be on my way” he tips an imaginary cap at you that makes you giggle, and he smiles goofily before turning away and walking out of the churchyard.

A little part of your heart yearns to follow him, the boy with the hazy, kind eyes and the pleasing smile, who just made your transition into life in the area much more bearable.

You and your brother are never bothered by that gang of boys again.

II: Envy

“Y/n, this is Miss Clarissa Worthing.”

Benedict introduces you to the willowy blonde whose hand is looped through the crook of his arm.

“Clarissa, this is Miss y/n y/l/n. She will beat half of my family at Pall Mall once you can coax her out of her shell,” he teases delicately with a friendly glint in his eye that makes your heart flutter against your ribcage.

Clarissa nods in cool acknowledgement, then cranes her neck to whisper something, her lips brushing his earlobe, her regard for you already gone. You curtsy politely, smile weakly and scurry away, feeling clumsy and out of place, unsure of what else to say to this swan-like beauty.

It's the summer after your fifteenth birthday, and he is back from his second year of university. It doesn't take much to deduce that this is the lady he is currently courting, accompanying him as she is to a garden party at Aubrey Hall. Jealousy clings to your skin like an invisible oily substance and taints your every thought.

Ever since that fateful day when he chased away your bullies, you have carried a torch for Benedict. The year after that incident, you sadly have to attend his father's funeral. Your own father unable to save the Viscount’s life. The forlornness on Benedict’s face as he stood there in the chilly church made your chest ache. You didn’t fully understand why at the time, but your impulse was to go up and wordlessly hold his hand. He looked so utterly unmoored and sad. You didn't, of course; you would never be so bold, but the impulse was so strong, a tingle on your palm that needed to touch him. It was all you could think about for days.

Over the intervening years, your soft spot for him grew with every encounter, the childish admiration morphing into something stronger, a deep-rooted longing. He always seemed to be the one who cared the most—about his siblings, his mum, and even the problems of the wider world. And as your body started to change and you began to feel differently about boys, your feelings for him had another layer of confusing complexity. His was the first face that popped into your head when your friends giggled about boys and talked of marriage.

Even now, it seems ridiculous to entertain that he would ever pursue you… you are stuck in small village life, the daughter of a doctor, not from a noble family, and he is off in the world, experiencing things you have no notion of. And yet he is the only man you have ever met who intrigues you that way. The idea of marriage not being entirely abhorrent, provided it is to him.

And so you just watch—the perpetual wallflower. Watch as Benedict and Clarissa make the circuit of the party. Effortlessly chatting among various members of the Ton, looking like the picture-perfect young couple.

“Makes you sick, doesn't it?” Eloise’s dry tone pops over your shoulder.

You smile at Benedict's little sister, just a couple of years younger than you and a kindred spirit at these events, mostly wanting nothing to do with them.

“She is very beautiful,” you offer politely, sipping your lemonade.

“She steals,” Eloise states plainly, making you splutter your drink all over your face and dress, the little immediate crowd of attention it draws to you mortifying. Luckily Benefict is far enough away and otherwise engaged that he does not see it. You are not sure you could live that down.

“That's a scandalous thing to say,” you hiss softly as you blush under the attention of a few strangers and furtively clean yourself with a serviette as best you can.

“Tell that to mother’s silk gloves,” Eloise volleys back, her disgust evident. Apparently oblivious to your embarrassing predicament or perhaps just uncaring of what others think. “She will be gone before the weekend is out, mark my words.”

You don't doubt it, knowing how spirited Eloise is. And how well she has her brother's ear. You know he will instinctively trust what she says as truth. As she marches up to grab his arm and pull him away, mostly, you wish you had more of her bravado, her fearlessness. While you agree with her outlook on many things, you are not built of the mettle she is—not one who draws attention. Still, you watch with a twisted, guilty, but victorious smile as Eloise pulls Benedict aside and has words with him.

You never hear of Miss Clarissa Worthing again.

III: Jealousy

“Lord Boswell would be a wonderful match, my dear,” your mother smiles encouragingly, handing you a slice of lemon drizzle cake.

You can't hide the curl of your lip at the mere thought.

It's the morning after the first ball of the season, just after your twentieth birthday, and you are in the London townhouse your parents have rented for the season, awaiting any suitors to call. Less than three days into your first season, you want the merry-go-round to stop. A dizzying whirl of social engagements you feel unequipped to deal with, wanting nothing more than to be back in Kent, stealing into the grounds of Aubrey Hall with a good book. Perhaps even spend time with Benedict.

Just the very thought of him causes a flare in your belly. Since his return from his studies in Cambridge, he has seemingly moved to Aubrey Hall full-time, spending his days painting the Kentish countryside with hopes of establishing himself as an artist. You have spent more time together in the last year or so than ever before, often finding yourself reading quietly in the shade with Eloise as he paints nearby, his company always somehow a balm as much as a thrill. And it feels as if there has been a subtle shift in how he regards you, giving you the unbearable lightness of hope. Perhaps he sees you in a different light now that you have come of age, no longer the child you were. There have been some moments where he has looked at you and felt it, like a weight on your skin; even as you doubt many other things about yourself, you don't doubt there is something there—a most wondrous and perplexing development.

Your butler bustles in and announces something that makes your heart leap into your throat.

“Mr Benedict Bridgerton has arrived.”

Your mother's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, giving you a sideways glance. A Bridgerton, even if not the Viscount, would be more than sufficient in her eyes. Especially one known so well to your family.

“To call on Miss y/l/n?” your mother asks, excitement evident in the breathy question.

“Oh no, ma’am, apologies. To see your husband. His brother, the Viscount, has dispatched him here to talk about some business in Kent,” your butler explains, somewhat apologetic as he realises the misconstrued intent.

Your mother’s disappointed face is only a match for your roiling stomach.

Your father folds his newspaper and jumps up. “I shall meet with him in my study, Jenkins. Please show him there,” and with a nod to you both, he leaves.

It has been just two days since your presentation to the Queen. That had been a waking nightmare. Parading down a long hallway at the Palace to be presented to her majesty filled you with utter dread. All eyes upon you, your every move and inch of appearance judged, and you are certain you were found lacking. Your status is unknown in the Ton; your parents pushing you into the season, hoping for an advantageous match. But you feel they could tell from one look where you belonged—almost invisible, on the periphery, a wallflower. Quiet, reserved, bookish, watching more than participating.

“Lord Boswell is here,” your butler reenters the room moments later.

Your stomach clenches. Your mother can barely contain her glee. You are so confused; you barely spoke two words to the man as you danced the previous night. Your conversation skills were utterly lacking, and he seemingly could not find an engaging topic to broach. You were keen for the music to end so you could return to standing and observing. You cannot believe that awkward interaction would be enough to propel the man to call on you, having said so little to each other just a few hours earlier. And yet here he is, a bunch of flowers in hand and a slightly vacant smile. The fleeting thought of marrying such a dull person makes you mildly nauseated.

Your mother hurries to the other side of the parlour and leaves you to converse, wearing a happy, hopeful expression that you hate to dash. And so you stumble the best you can through small talk. He talks of the weather, his property, and his interests but never asks anything about you—as if he is a candidate for a job you are interviewing for. In some ways, that is perhaps accurate, but part of you yearns for him to show interest in you, not just talk incessantly of himself.

Just as you give up hope of escaping anytime soon, you startle as he lays a hand on yours on the sofa between you. You don't even hear what he is saying anymore, just staring at where his glove covers yours, not liking the sensation, wanting to claw yourself away and withdraw.

Motion in the doorway makes you look up; Benedict is with your father. And suddenly, your heart is racing. Benedict looks taken aback; something sour in his expression you have never seen before makes you want to run to him and ask what is wrong. But you don't. You do the polite, reserved thing and smile.

“Mrs y/l/n, Lord Boswell,” he greets politely. “Miss y/l/n,” he adds, and you could swear he uses a different, lower register. Something inside you turns pulpy and ripe, blossoming just for him.

Before you know it, he has taken a seat on the sofa facing yours, shooting you the tiniest of winks that could be an eye twitch, but you know him better than that—seeing the sparkle of mischief in his eye. Your parents seem to exchange nonplussed glances, uncertain why he has chosen to stay.

“Boswell,” Benedict begins, shooting the man his most impervious glance. “What of your qualities make you an ideal suitor for Miss y/l/n here?” he questions.

Boswell splutters and seems taken aback, clearly not expecting such an interrogation, especially from a man who isn't your father or brother. Benedict’s eyes are back on you as the man stumbles through an inadequate and entirely uninteresting response that you do not even listen to. Your whole focus is on Benedict, feeling unable to breathe.

“Hmmm,” Benedict hums as he ends, “and what have you to say about Miss y/l/n’s interests? Are they perhaps complimentary to yours?”

“I… I did not think to ask,” Boswell falters, his cheeks reddening at the faux pas.

Benedict looks almost disgusted.

“You claim to be interested in providing your suit but ask nothing of what makes her the wonderful person she is?” he scolds, and your mouth opens into a little O of surprise. “Have you not asked her about her excellent marksmanship? How she can shoot an archery target better than anyone else within ten miles of Aubrey Hall? Have you not asked after her artistic skills? You see that cushion you sit next to? That is the work of her fair hand.”

You barely register as Boswell twists to look at the item and then at you; you have eyes for no one but Benedict as he continues, his voice loud and clear even over the sound of your heart pounding hard in your ears.

“Have you asked her about her love for literature and poetry? How she will correct you that it was, in fact, Guildenstern, not Rosencrantz, who enters first in the first folio version of Hamlet?”

You duck your head and blush. That is precisely what you did to him last year, surprising even yourself with your boldness. And he remembers.

He continues. “Have you asked about her love of animals? Perhaps you need to hear the tale of Mr Whiskers and how she was able to nurse the beloved cat of my sister Hyacinth back to health. You have not asked her of any such things?!?” his tone incredulous.

Even from the corner of your eye, you can tell that your parents’ faces are as shocked as Boswell’s. And suddenly, you recognise this as a Benedict Bridgerton you have seen before. It’s the one that comes out when defending those he loves against injustice or an unworthy opponent—the staunch guardian.

“If you cannot find it in yourself to show such interest, I would hope she will entertain better suitors,” Benedict sniffs dismissively. “As a long-term friend, I cannot in all good conscience allow this young woman to be pursued by anyone unworthy of her,” he concludes cuttingly, his nostrils flare, and his lip curls just a fraction as his eyes flit to where Boswell’s hand still rests upon yours.

Even as you struggle through your jumble of thoughts about everything he has said, one question so singular strikes you. Is this is Benedict….. jealous?? Jealous of your suitor? Finding ways to cut into him with his precise knowledge about you? The thought seems so fanciful that you want to dismiss it, but the sliver of possibility it offers is exhilarating. Just the chance of it being true has you utterly undone.

You barely even listen as your father jumps up and, with some belated sense of defence, agrees with Mr Bridgerton and asks Boswell if perhaps he should take his leave and return another day when he has thought of more engaging things to ask of you. Every fibre of your being yearns to talk to Benedict somewhere private, but he gives excuses to leave as quickly as your chastised suitor is dispatched.

Boswell never darkens your door again.

IV: Rescue

“Penny, for your thoughts,” Eloise smirks as she catches you staring into space on the terrace. Your cheeks blush, and you do not admit to where your thoughts had wandered—to her older brother.

“Will you come with me for a walk?” you ask, feeling the need to get away before you cross paths with the man who has occupied your thoughts more often than not of late.

It’s the week of the midsummer Hearts & Flowers ball at Aubrey Hall, and you are glad to have escaped the hubbub of the London scene and to be back in Kent for a few days' respite.

“No, I would prefer the company of Mary Shelley this afternoon,” she states airily, waving a book she holds.

So you set off alone, walking the grounds you now know so well. You are half an hour into your stroll, admiring the wildflowers along the eastern fringes of the grounds, not far from the village, when you see him approaching in the distance.

Benedict is riding his trusty horse and looks so majestic your chest constricts. Clothed in just a billowing white shirt and beige britches, you have rarely seen him look so informal. Or so very, very attractive. Your palms feel sweaty, and something stirs deep inside your body as you slink slightly into the treeline, hoping to remain unseen. A chance to merely observe this beautiful man, even knowing it is wrong to do so. To spy on him as such. Just as he draws close enough that you can see the flex of his leg muscles under the material, which causes all sorts of sensations in your body, a startled deer darts across the path and spooks his horse.

Time seems to slow as you watch his horse rear up and make the most terrible whinny of fear.

And then your heart is in your throat as you watch horrified as Benedict loses his grip on the reins in surprise and is thrown violently backwards to the ground.

Bile rises in your throat as you see how his body hits the dirt path, unable to brace for impact. The air fills with a blood-curdling scream that you belatedly realise is your own, and before you know it, you are sprinting. Sprinting towards him. Your whole focus narrows to his body splayed on the ground, worryingly still, as his horse bolts away. Heart pumping wildly and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pull up to him and skid to your knees.

He is still conscious but barely. Moaning slightly.

“Do not move!” You bark, and even in his woozy state, he appears taken aback by your ferocity. “I mean it, Benedict!” you bite out as he attempts to move his arm.

He seems to mumble a noise of ascent as you try your best to assess any injuries, having learned some things from observing your father over the years, but you realise he needs proper medical attention. Where you are on the grounds, it’s closer to your home than Aubrey Hall.

“I am going to get my father,” you explain as calmly as you can, “for the love of God, Benedict, do NOT attempt to move until he gets here.”

A wan smile spreads across his face even as he winces in pain. “Hmm, fine. I promise to stay still,” he sighs, “....prefer to do it for the love of you…,” he mutters slurringly before he appears to pass out.

Knowing he has likely struck his head, you try your darndest to put what he said out of your mind. A head injury would be the only way to explain such a comment, even as you are praying he doesn't have one.

Heart still beating out of control, and not knowing what possesses you, you lean over and press the quickest shyest of kisses onto his lips—pulling back a few inches before he can even acknowledge it happened.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere on me, Benedict Bridgerton,” you whisper fiercely, just in time to see his eyes pop open, hazy and clouded with something you have never seen before. It’s not the pain he is in, though. And it’s not confusion, amusement or even irritation. It’s something else, so blisteringly intense your legs want to turn to jelly.

“I won’t, I promise,” he attests, his tone rough, ragged.

There are a couple of seconds where all you do is stare wildly at each other, and then, with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, you take off running. You have never run so far and so fast in your life; fear makes your muscles work harder than they ever have before. It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime.

Your parents almost burst out of their skins in shock as you barrel into the house, panting wildly, wordlessly grabbing your father's medicine bag, and he reflexively springs into action.

You run to the stables and hurriedly hook up the long cart he uses when he needs to transport patients, and the look he shoots you is filled with concern.

“Who is it?” he asks as you climb aboard and direct him.

“Benedict,” you tremble, and there is a world of understanding in your father's eyes as he cracks the whip, and the horse jolts faster.

Perhaps your adoration is less concealed than you like to believe, but at this moment, you only care about getting him the help he needs. You are grateful your father doesn’t ask questions as you speed along.

And it becomes a blur as you reach the site, grateful Benedict laid still as you requested. Your father examines him and fires questions that are answered lucidly, tending to some immediate wounds and bandaging in places. Before you know it, you are helping your father with a canvas stretcher and insisting on sitting with Benedict in the back of the cart as your father takes the patient back to Aubrey Hall.

Never addressing the fact that you grip each other's hands so tight that both of your knuckles go white.

V: Belonging

“You can come in.”

Benedict’s voice calls out, bemused as you vacillate in the doorway, not realising that he can see you in a mirror reflection.

So at his invitation, you blush and scuttle into his room. Awkward, unsure what to do after your bold, daring, downright impertinent behaviour when he sustained his injuries. Part of you is hopeful he does not remember it.

It’s been two days, and he has made excellent progress under your father's watchful eye. The minute your father had pulled up at the house, you dropped your hold on his hand. And as word spread, it was a frenzy of activity that you found yourself superfluous to. The last you had seen was Benedict being carried inside for a more thorough examination.

Luckily, it turns out he has no lasting damage; his head was uninjured beyond a mild concussion. He is bruised all over, likely has some cracked ribs and has a sprained wrist, but he will be fine after some rest.

“H.. how are you?” your ask quietly, stilted, fiddling with your dress nervously.

“Much better,” his tone soft, “only because of you.”

You look up and meet his gentle gaze. “I merely did what anyone would have done,” you demure.

“Nonsense,” he counters, “you ordered me to stay still and await the doctor. If you weren’t there, I likely would have done myself additional injury being stubborn,” he points out dryly.

You don’t know what to say in response, so you change tack. “Is your horse alright?”

“Yes. Colin found him wandering around the wildflower meadow, munching on all manner of grasses. Never happier, completely uninjured,” he assures.

You nod, glad to hear the news. Then you allow the room to lapse into silence, unsure how to commence your profuse apology.

“I am very sor….”

He stops you with a bandaged hand held up.

“If you even begin to apologise for saving me, well then I shall be most vexed,” he chides, but there is no heat there, a lopsided grin tugging at his handsome features. “Besides, the more pertinent point of discussion is the fearless woman you can be when needed. The person you are becoming, when you allow yourself to, is quite something,” you bow your head as your cheeks heat at his praise. “I would have injured myself months before now had I known I would meet the creature who sits behind that cloud of shyness. Just look at what you did, taking change so very effectively,” he flatters then there is a pause. “Hell, even being brave enough to kiss me.”

Your head shoots up, and your mouth falls open.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles, “don’t think I forgot that part,” His voice has lowered to a pitch that buzzes right through your being.

“I… I was worried I… I was going to lose you,” you stutter, “and I-I’m sorry that was terrible of me to take liberties like that. Please, please forgive me?” you beseech.

“It was not in any sense of the word terrible,” he disputes, “the exact opposite. There is nothing to forgive. But there is one way you can make it up to me…?” he hedges.

“Anything, please,” you beg, so hopeful of absolution.

He holds out his hands and gestures for you to perch on the bed beside him. Almost without thought, you do so, even as you feel your pulse speeding up. You have rarely been this close, and now you are transfixed by all the tiny flecks of colour in his iris and the hints of stubble around his jaw.

“Kiss me again,” he requests; a finger trails lightly over the back of your hand. “But properly this time. Give me a chance to kiss you back.”

You just gawp at him in utter shock, heart pounding again, just like it was that day. You don't move away. You can't. Rooted to the spot. Unable to stop staring at his plush bottom lip.

“You cannot mean it…” you stutter when you finally find your tongue, disbelieving.

“Does this seem like I do not mean it?” he argues ardently, and before you know it, he is sitting up and leaning in.

And then warm lips touch yours, and fireworks explode inside your chest.

You feel like you are drowning in the very best way as your lips move together gently. Everything about the moment is sweet and light, but promising more, something tart that makes you want to climb atop him and crush yourself against him. Just as you feel the instinct to open your mouth to him, he pulls back, looking lost and found all at once.

“I need you to know something,” he begins, grabbing both your hands and placing them between his. “It pains me to see you ever doubting yourself or if you belong. You belong. Everywhere you go. You have so much to give to the world,” he states passionately.

“I… “ you falter, wanting to believe him, the version of you he sees.

“You do. Hell, you give me a reason to get up every day. To try. To be better. I would not be the artist I am now were it not for your words of encouragement as I painted all those afternoons.”

You are dumbstruck. You honestly didn't believe he was taking on board what you said. Mostly just encouraging him to follow his instincts when he seemed to doubt them.

“And now it’s time someone did the same for you. Be the encouragement you need. You deserve everything, y/n. And it would be my greatest honour to try to give it to you?” he adds, a gently loving smile lighting up his face.

Your heart sings as you realise this is the declaration you have been waiting half of your life to hear. Before you can stop yourself, you launch yourself at him, this time being the one to demand a kiss that he happily obliges.

“I have a question,” you state as your lips part, your boldness growing with every moment. “Mr Bridgerton, were you jealous when I had a suitor?” you tease, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles and nuzzles your cheek. “My god, you have no idea.” You cant help the victorious giggle, basking in the fizz in your veins.

“I suppose it was payback for Ms Worthing. She of the ironic name. She was never worthy of you,” you state passionately.

He laughs with a headshake. “Perhaps it is our ability to rescue each other that makes us so best suited,” he opines. “I do believe we may belong together,” he adds.

And you couldn't agree more.

In fact, you are never alone again from that day on.

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