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#this is my contribution to their many first kisses
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Moony in your eyes
wolfstar oneshot / rating: teen and up / hogwarts era / fluff
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It was quiet between them for a while. It was like that, sometimes, with Remus. He didn’t need to speak when there was nothing to be said. He always knew exactly when to talk, and exactly when to laugh, and exactly when to be thoughtful. Sirius was not so keen on silences, but would let them linger between them, just to see how far he could go without feeling uncomfortable around Remus.
Their silences would always last a long time if he did so, he found.
Remus made him feel safe.
The spliff was nearly done. Sirius glanced around. The music had changed from vibrant to more subdued, and the fire was out.
Remus’ voice rose next to him. "You’re awfully quiet tonight."
Sirius' cheeks flushed instantly. "Oh, am I? Sorry," he said, fidgeting with the lighter.
Remus snorted. "I was being sarcastic. You’ve never been more talkative, really."
Sirius stiffened slightly. He rolled the spliff between his fingers, pressing gently. "I was just thinking."
Remus tilted his head towards him. "About what?"
"Just-" Sirius swallowed, glanced around. "Do you want to go smoke the rest of this elsewhere? It’s a bit hot in here." He turned to Remus, to see his face change. To see what his eyes said.
Remus was already looking right at him. His lips were curled up into a small smile. His eyes were smiling too, and were now dark and blown out in the dim lighting. "Yeah, let's go."
So, they did.
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gojoshooter · 1 year
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Homesick Husband: Gojo Satoru
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Pairing : unsealed!gojo x wife!y/n
A/N : here's my contribution to the return of our beefy gojo satoru's headcanons! enjoy ^^
WARNINGS : crying, established relationship
Unsealed!Gojo whose first thought after being released is to look for his wife
Unsealed!Gojo who forgets he has powers to teleport, running & stumbling his way home
Wife!y/n who just like the past eighteen days, sits on the dining table resting her head on it as gojo's plate of food get's colder
Unsealed!Gojo who runs his frantic hands all along your body for any sign of hurt or injury
Wife!y/n who mirrors his expression and action with reciprocated feelings
Unsealed!Gojo who pulls you a little too hard towards himself and feels your head bump into his chest
Wife!y/n throwing weak punches anywhere she can on gojo and biting on his biceps
Unsealed!Gojo whispering gentle sorries and promises to never leave again in your ears
Wife!y/n who after a good hour of sobbing into his husband's chest realizes just how buffier his body feels against her
Unsealed!Gojo who realizes his wife has only got skinnier and weaker
Wife!y/n who asks if he'd like his food reheated clearly unable to think how to act in the moment
Unsealed!Gojo who would shake his head with a chuckle as he sits on your seat placing you on his lap instead
Wife!y/n who's still crying so hard she can't chew on her food
Unsealed!Gojo who rubs your back gently and slowly reminding you to take it easy as he offers another spoonful
Wife!y/n refusing to eat anymore of it and burying her face in the crook of the man's neck, taking in the comforting scent she so longed for
Unsealed!Gojo who finishes both their plates with silent tears and a fast asleep wife in his lap
Wife!y/n who unconsciously clutchs the front of his black tshirt as he takes her to their room bridal style
Unsealed!Gojo who puts you and himself in your favourite couple pajamas ready for the bed
Wife!y/n who wakes up crying and shaking profusely in the middle of the night whisper shouting, "please s-satoru, don't be a dream" along her many incoherent words
Unsealed!Gojo who snuggles impossibly close to your fragile figure pressing long assuring kisses on your face and lips knowing they calm you down
Wife!y/n 's futile attempts at scooting away from her husband because this wouldn't have been how he expected her to react
Unsealed!Gojo who only brings your kicking legs together with his thighs, telling you to breathe from your nose before diving in for a particularly long kiss that doesn't end until you're sleep and sound...
A/N : n that's it! hope u liked it ^-^ likes & reblogs are appreciated ♡
Tags : @nanamikentoseyebags @maybekoya @luckimoon
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undreaming-fanfiction · 5 months
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I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...
Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.
They get cast in the new Batman movie.
Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.
He's still very hot.
Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.
The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.
Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".
Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.
Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"
Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"
The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.
And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!
But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.
A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.
The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"
Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."
Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.
Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."
Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE
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oweninadaydream · 25 days
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𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞) || 𝐀.𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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summary : Can anybody blame a young lady for indulging in her deepest desires despite suspecting that the end is imminent?
song inspo: Fortnight by Taylor Swift (ft. Post Malone)
pairing : Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
word count : 1564 words
contains : rake!Anthony, unrequited? love, mentions of alcohol and I think that's it!
a/n : I am not the owner of the gif or the dividers ( I don't possess such talents jakjhakjshda). This will have a second part (already working on it). The next chapter of the Feel the rush series will be posted after my exams, sorry :((( Anyway, enjoy !!!
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The maid finished working on (Y/N)’s makeup and she turned to look at the final product in the mirror. Her  hair was perfectly held at the back of her neck with a chignon. Her grandmother’s diadem added that sophisticated touch the young woman craved. After taking in the breathtaking shade of her dress in the mirror, she started twirling and giggling around her chamber in a fairy manner. Someone could wonder, what on earth was going on inside the girl’s head? The answer was easy, yet so complicated. Lady (Y/L/N) was simply smitten with someone she knew very well, a lifelong friend that seemed interested in her as well. The problem? That man was no other than Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, the most infamous rake of the Ton. 
“Your carriage is ready, miss (Y/L/N)” the butler informed the young lady.
At almost the same time, another voice echoed around the house.
“(Y/N) dear, we must go now. Lady Danbury will not let me hear the end of it if we show up late yet again. I’d also like to chat a bit with Violet, I haven’t seen her since the Featherington ball.” her mother urged her from the hall.
“I’m ready, mother” she answered loud enough for the woman to hear.
On her way to the barouch that would transport them, she realized that the burgundy dahlias that had been planted at the beginning of the summer were finally blooming with the arrival of autumn, contributing to the embellishment of the front garden. She stared at them for a second; her mind was searching for something in them but she couldn’t explain what exactly. She shook her head and she got inside the carriage.
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Pacing around the ethereal gardens of Aubrey Hall, her mind couldn’t help the quick escapades to the first time they kissed. Sitting under the blossoming tree, Anthony and her were watching the sunset taking with itself the traces of winter, welcoming the first of many spring nights. The two of them were abnormally quiet, as if the sight of the moon had bewitched them both. (Y/N)'s spine could still feel violent shivers traveling down her spine when recalling the way the Viscount had lightly brushed his nose against hers before capturing her lips into a slow deep kiss. His chapped and demanding mouth stole a couple more pecks before laughing airly, rising from their hidden spot and offering his hand to help her on her feet. 
That glorious evening marked the beginning of … Well, she couldn’t quite state what it was. The rest of the summer was filled with fleeting glances, embraces away from prying eyes and laughing, lots of laughing. (Y/N) had never been happier; after all, the Viscount was by her side every other night. Still, a series of dark thoughts anxiously floated around her head whenever he walked away to attend the gentlemen’s club, or whenever he tried to avoid her gaze after implying anything that had to do with love or compromise outside his mattress.  Shaking her head and changing the subject usually did the trick, but for the last few days, Anthony had been acting ever so strange. 
(Y/N) was absent in deep thoughts when she felt a familiar touch on her back. 
“Anthony” It was not a  question, but the most confident of statements.
“How did you know it was me so surely?” he said while flashing her with one of his infamous smiles.
She raised her head so her eyes stared at him directly. “I could recognize you by smell, by the prints you leave when you step on the ground on a rainy day or simply by tracing your features with only one finger, eyes completely closed. You are no mystery to me” her answer was sweet and sincere, with a touch of flirting attitude.
He went quiet, very quiet. Every bit of the playful attitude  he had shown earlier had disappeared, now replaced by a hard expression. “You ignore plenty of things about me, so stop acting like my-”
“What has come over you? Your usually particular temperament has worsened these past two weeks. I do not appreciate that you talk to me in such a way” she abruptly interrupted in hopes of obtaining any kind of answer that would help her understand.
“I cannot bear with this any longer. I just feel like we have gone astray from the path we had established for us. I wish for us to be on the same page, and that implies remembering the casual nature of our… deal. Please tell me you understand” his pleading eyes accompanied the request perfectly.
“Forgive me, Anthony but I can’t wrap my head around what you are saying. I thought we were evolving, like our relationship. I know you are not the most kin on marrying or doing this as everyone else does, but after all we’ve been through, don’t you dare tell me that I have been delusionally imagining all these romantic gestures and moments”
“Mademoiselle Parisot is upstairs waiting for me. I would love to continue to discuss this in another time, unless there’s anything that must be told in this exact moment” Was his voice meant to sound confident? (Y/N) could almost feel some sorrow slipping through the cracks of his quick confession. 
The astounded expression on (Y/N)’s face showed that she did in fact not comprehend any of what Anthony was rambling about. A quick sight that denoted shock and upset preceded the lady’s monologue.
“I love you, Anthony, and it’s ruining my life. I can’t keep sighing like a damsel trapped in the highest tower, as I yearn for a future that my eyes will not behold. I can’t keep masquerading my true desires, in hopes that you will choose to stay. I will not continue to morph into whatever kind of woman you fantasize about at the moment, making all those efforts for a man who could never spare a glance at me in such a way, and losing myself in the process. I always thought my worst misery would originate in a forced, loveless marriage with some old earl at best , that would little by little drain every spark of joy within me. But oh, what fool I have been. This senseless affair we have going on has come to distress me more than the worst of husbands ever could. So, go on, run straight into her arms. I do not care, not one bit, my lord. You have shattered my heart a million times throughout the years, I cannot feel it tearing apart anymore.”
His stupidly handsome face showed an evident feeling of distraughtness ; she had never raised her voice like that, nor had she ever used similar words around (or against) him. He quickly shook  his head to wash away the initial shock, substituting it with his typical stoic mask.
“I have never intended to inflict any kind of pain upon yourself, my lady. But, as my dearest friend, you should have known what you were getting yourself into, (y/n).”
His casual condescending  tone made her sick to the stomach and the loudest of silences entered the scene. After a minute or two, a gentle breeze interrupted (y/n)’s pondering. She then raised her head up in a defying manner. After making sure her voice wouldn't give up on her (even though her lower lip was trembling), she decided to voice her thoughts. 
“That's the thing that bothers me so much about infatuation. It makes humans stupid, it makes them believe it can fix anything, even lost causes such as yourself, Viscount Bridgerton. I do not desire to disturb my lord any longer, so excuse me.” And just like that, she was heading back inside the ballroom.
The sound of her heels furiously hitting the floor with every step matched perfectly with the accelerated heartbeat of the man left stranded in the gardens. Without much thought he decided to return to the chambers where his seemingly perfect mistress awaited for him.
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Not very far from the action, a slightly inebriated Benedict was laughing obnoxiously loud with Eloise and Colin. The sight of  (Y/N) crossing the doors so rapidly while trying to contain her sobs and tears made the three Bridgerton siblings turn their heads to follow their friend’s trajectory. 
“Should we-” Benedict was eager to console (Y/N) despite his clouded reasoning.
“I would say that she needs a moment to collect herself, Benedict. Our presence could do more harm to her already poor state.” Colin spoke.
“I will try to approach her later. I wonder what has happened… Wasn’t she talking with Anthony?” Eloise recalled perfectly how Anthony had started to converse with Miss (Y/N) earlier that night, right in front of the thriving gardenias. Everything seemed perfectly normal when she was passing by, but it was obvious that something had happened after she had gone back inside.
Eloise moved rapidly to peek around the corner, followed by the two males whose curiosity was unbearable as well. On the other side of the garden, an obviously tense Anthony was making his way to his chamber with a light emanating from the inside of the room.
Without a second thought, Benedict voiced what the three of them were thinking in that moment.
“I think that is exactly the problem, my dear sister…”
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eevees-hobbies · 16 days
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How the Hashira sleep with you and your 9-month-old between you
Author's Note: I was up at 2 AM last night writing in my notes app because this idea struck me. This is my first time writing headcanons, but as always, I’m inspired by some of the fantastic ideas of other content creators!
Content Warning: You have a child with your partner, and they sleep in bed with you. There is also a brief mention of breastfeeding. This will not be for you if you’re sensitive to those things. This is pure fluff.
How the Hashira sleep with you and your 9-month-old between you
Contains: Rengoku, Uzui, Iguro, Shinazugawa & Tomioka 
Kyojuro Rengoku 
Kyo was meant for this. There’s no reality in which Kyojuro doesn’t want to be a father to as many kids as you’re willing to give him. His arm is always wrapped around you both—having you and the baby in the same room as you all sleep, being able to provide comfort, body heat, and a sense of protection, brings him so much joy. 
Kyojuro wakes up periodically during the night to look at you both as you sleep. He will also pay extra attention to checking on your child, placing a large hand on their small frame and feeling the rise and fall of their chest; he’ll smile to himself—his child is happy, healthy, and safe. 
Rengoku is also great at soothing the baby when they wake up: “Shhh, little one. Let’s let mommy sleep.” 
Nine times out of ten, he’ll be able to put your baby back down to sleep. The one time he can’t, the child will need to be fed, and Rengoku swells with pride as he watches you nurse them.
Once you’re done nursing, he’ll quickly run to get you some water and a small snack because he knows it takes a lot of energy to breastfeed. 
“You’re a good mother,” he says as he strokes your hair, looking over your shoulder at your milk-drunk child. “I can’t wait to do this again and again.”
Tengen Uzui
Tengen is annoyed when you place the child next to you—you didn’t even ask him! You explain that it’s easier for night feedings, and the baby sleeps better between you both. He admits it’s true, and the change drastically improved his own sleep. 
But Tengen HATES giving up the level of intimacy he had with you and many times ponders if kicking the baby out would be the obvious solution. With venom in your tone, you assure him there’s no need to bother his pretty little head with such ridiculous thoughts. He is aghast, but admittedly, he likes that you’re protective of their child, even against him.
Eventually, the child moves to their room, and Tengen has you all back to himself during the night! And, oh, has he missed it.
Obanai Iguro
Obanai really wishes he could get his bed back and is grumpy at first as despite his small stature, he takes up a LOT of space when sleeping. 
But his heart melts as your child always curls up against him, seeking his father’s warmth and comfort. He’ll stare down at them, still unable to believe he contributed to something so beautiful and perfect. 
He’ll plant a kiss on his child’s small tuft of black hair and then on the crown of your head, his arm snaking around his child, and holding your hand while you sleep quietly. So yeah, he’ll start off annoyed, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
When you suggest moving the child out of your shared room, Obanai is taken aback.
“Let’s not be too hasty! They sleep so well with us.”
Sanemi Shinazugawa
Sanemi grew up sleeping in the same room as his family, so he isn’t surprised or put out that the baby sleeps between you both. 
He’d never admit it, but he feels a lot less anxiety at the thought of something happening to you and your child when you’re all sleeping together. 
Sure, sometimes he’ll wake up with a baby foot in his mouth or get woken up by a sleepy yet firm baby smack to his face, but he’ll grumble lovingly and drift back off to sleep, finding comfort in the fact that his family is safe and sound. 
Sometimes, Sanemi has to pull the baby off you at night when it spreads its limbs over your face. 
“Hey, get back here!”
Giyu Tomioka
Giyu is not a fan of a baby sleeping in his bed and will likely never be. He misses cuddling with you, holding your hand as you sleep, and waking up as the little or big spoon to your duo.
It’s hard to be a spoon in a trio—he feels more like a fork.
He’s an amazing father, though, and leads the nighttime routine of bath time, bedtime stories, and gently rocking the small baby in his arms. 
Eventually, he’ll rearrange the futons so that you’re between the baby and himself, which is his way of getting to spoon you again. Clever!
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elixrr · 5 months
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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡
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ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.
ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)
ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭
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✰ xiao ✰
— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.
Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.
Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.
Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)
☆ wriothesley ☆
— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.
Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.
Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.
Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.
Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.
Some day, he might as well do just that.
☆ lyney ☆
— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.
When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.
Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.
Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.
Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.
☆ dan heng☆
— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.
He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.
PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.
In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.
And he likely already has.
☆ argenti ☆
— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.
The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.
Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.
Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.
He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.
☆ blade ☆
— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.
Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.
That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.
The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.
Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.
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chiliyue-archived · 1 year
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Lipstick Smudges
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Includes; Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Malleus Draconia, Silver
Tags; slightly suggestive— but it's all sfw and a lot of smooches 😚
Gender Neutral Reader -> Reader does wear lipstick
Requested ! [Twst M.List] ♡
-
—Riddle Rosehearts
A death wish
If you wish to be berated about public appearances and whatnot, then this is is just the thing for you 😀
On the bright side, the red of the lipstick compliments his red hair and of course, the growing blush on his face
An innocent single kiss to his cheek, which quickly became less seemingly innocent in the form of a dozen pecks. Riddle lost all sense of control at the first kiss, your lips simply soft, gentle, and intoxicating. His chest was burning for oxygen, but he didn't want to pull away - not yet, just a couple more seconds, he reckoned. He was practically drowning in the overflowing feelings amongst the moment.
You pulled away, your face flushed from the heated moment, eyes half lidded as you attempted to catch your breath. Suddenly, your eyes widened, a fit of giggles following from you soon after. Riddle rosed a brow at that, his heart fluttering at the sound of your laughter. " What's so silly my rose?"
" Your face...!" You couldn't stop another chuckle from leaving you as you attempted to calm yourself. Perplexed, Riddle took a quick glance at the mirror perched at the side of his room. Low and behold, the great dorm warden of Heartslabyul— rendered a disheveled mess with flushed cheeks and... lipstick marks over his lips. If it was even possible, his face became many shades redder, placing the roses in the garden to shame.
To be honest, you couldn't tell if he was mad or simply surprised, perhaps a mixture of both knowing your boyfriend. As for the boyfriend himself, Riddle couldn't quite place a finger on what he was feeling. He should be angry, really, that if anyone witnessed him this state, it would truly be embarrassing. But it's wasn't that... bad. If anything, it just made his heart thump faster, and palms become fidgety.
But oh- if you thought you were off the hook, then you're horribly mistaken. But for now, he'll let it slide and perhaps get a couple more kisses from you.
-
—Azul Ashengrotto
He's already red at the thought of kissing and now having some very obvious red marking of your kissing(which wasn't really that intimate) ?! He feels like he may explode on the spot
To be honest, if you don't point it out him, he's not going to notice for a while until some poor soul garnered the courage to tell him
It was a goodbye kiss - a goodbye which left a bright red mark on the corner of his mouth. Azul was curious as to why everyone was giving him a lingering gaze, some looking away to chuckle to themselves. We're they teasing him? Did he have anything in his teeth, perhaps?
A quick glance to the mirror answered all those questions, and he was mortified. The first thing he did was seek you out and demand - no, he can't raise his voice at you- nicly question, what caused you to do something so... so scandalous! Why do this to his face? Were you trying to make him have a heart attack?
He was too dumbfounded to even wipe it off, contributing to a very amusing scene to play before your eyes; your boyfriend out of breath, face flushed terribly red and just a tiny bit of your lipstick sticking to his lips.
" Darling, look what you did to my face." He sputtered, his face flushing an embarrassed pink as he pointed to the innocent mark. You giggled slightly at his dramatic antics, earning you a dramatic gasp from his end.
" Sorry Azul, didn't mean to leave a mark."
" Everyone in the school saw, and no one considered telling me." He mumbled out dumbfounded.
"It's really not that bad." You attempted to soothe him, grabbing a tissue to wipe it off. You were surprised when he caught your wrist suddenly, the material just shy from his lips.
Oh?
" Now now, I never say I didn't like it. Just be more cautious, Angelfish. Otherwise, I'll never hear the end of it from the twins."
Oh.
-
—Jade Leech
Really it's you who gets more flustered than he does.
If anything, he looks rather unfazed by the mark. Makes matters worse by teasing you for it, chuckling lightly as you scrambled to save your dignity
"Oh Jade... I got some of my lipstick on your face, " you muttered rather sheepishly, pointing the vibrant red smudge against his mouth as you pulled away. Your lover merely rose a brow at that, for he was already fully aware that it's there! But it presented an opportunity to make a gentle tease at the situation, and given how you're becoming red, it was worth it.
"Oh?" He tilted his head, a smirk already playing on his lips as he examined myself. "Why it seems you have, my dear." He exclaimed with a faux dramatic sigh before giving off a light-hearted chuckle.
Really, Jade paid little mind to the mark - though painfully obvious in contrast to his blue hair. However, people are too afraid of him to make fun of him for it, and besides, he felt entranced by it some way. Marked by his lover in such an innocent and unintentional way? You're really pulling at his heartstrings.
He pointed to the smudge, the pigment rubbing against the corners of his mouth, then he pointed to the other side bare and lipstick-free. Before you could even reciprocate your confusion, Jade suddenly leaned forward, a puff of hot air tickling your cheek. Your gasp of surprise only acted to empathize that smirk of his whilst the pads of his gloved fingers brushed along your spine, ecliting goosebumps along the curves of your body.
" Why don't you leave a couple more, my dear? Mark me as yours, hm?" It's safe to say that you were a little late to your class, your lips noticeably a little puffy and red.
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—Malleus Draconia
Malleus, who doesn't really understand why you're making a big fuss about in the first place. It's just a small little mark, it can be easily wiped off with his sleeve.
He's intrigued by it; however, it wasn't something he can place his finger on but he stared at the smudge with some form of interest in his eyes
Tbh he's too busy kissing you to even pay attention or care 😗
Honestly, Malleus hardly even noticed or felt the texture of the pigment rub against his lips as he chased you for another kiss. He was too intoxicated in the moment, his chest heaving as he pulled another searing kiss that made the tips of his fingers go numb. It's only when you suddenly pulled away, your eyes widening slightly did he consider that something might have been wrong.
" Why are you staring at me like, my treasure?" He inquired with a tilt of his head, scenarios starting to run through his brain. You shyly pointed to his face, a faint red creeping on your cheeks from mild embarrassment. He hummed as his eyes quickly danced over to the nearest mirror, and there it was; a smudge of color against his face.
It was hard to read his expression within that moment, his brows were furrowing slightly but he remained stagnant in his motion. As you started to internally panic, Malleus let out a soft chuckle, his lips spreading in a small smile as he flickers his attention back to you.
" My love, it's just a little smudge. Don't be so concerned." He lightly chastised as his hands snaked around your waist and pulled you a little closer. " I truly pay little mind toward public appearances and if it came from you, then it certainly is worthy to be on my face."
His finger reached out to trail along your bottom lip, effectively accumulating a little more pigment on his fingernail. He chuckles at the reaction it eclicts from you as he leans in, lips brushing against your own. His voice is low as hushed whisper, sending shivers down your skin.
"However, let's conern ourselves with that later. Allow me to enrapture you in some more kisses."
-
—Silver
Literally does not care. He has no qualms with going to class with a smudged face of your lipstick. So what if they point and whisper? He really could hardly care
Really, he's too busy chasing after your lips to really concern himself over it. Why fuss over a small mark when he can kiss you breathless and maybe add a couple more of marks while he's at it?
Soft sighs were the only audible thing that registered in your brain as you felt your chest be knocked out of oxygen for the nth time. The only coherent feeling was Silver's lips on your own, swollen and blemished as he retreats for a quick intake of air before repeating the action. However, before he could lean in for another round of fervish kisses, you propped your hands on his shoulder, halting in him in place.
" Is something wrong?" He mumbled, hot breath pricking your cheek— it took all your willpower to not shudder, even as his fingers brushed along your upper arms. A couple more seconds of silence passed before you spoke; " I- I got some of my lipstick on your face." Your voice was barely audible and he had to strain his ears to hear.
He seemed to consider this for a moment, eyes flickering to the ground as he processed the words. His expression was unreable. You almost started to panic had it not been for the soothing circles he rubbed along your bare skin. Then, before you could ask, he leaned forward to press a chaste peck to your lips, followed by a:" I don't really care."
And with that, your cycle of kissing each other breathless until you're both heaving for air resumed and tenfolded with each passing second, touches becoming rough and impatient as you littered more smudges along Silver's face.
-
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Anon, you didn't specify which fandom, so I went with twist. I hope that was okay ✿
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000-pawz · 19 days
Text
princess treatment (bnd) ˚ · .
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ot6 headcanons , fluff , just bonedo treating u like the princess u r!!! (gn reader)
rest of the members under the cut!
a/n: 2am brainrot takeover hi
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sungho ˚ ⋆。˚
𐙚₊˚ always pulls you into his lap whenever possible!!! loves having you close to him and it gives him an excuse to be a little possessive for a bit...><
𐙚₊˚ gives you random gifts and flowers just because he the smile you give him every time (and the thank you kisses too)!!! you'll wake up to a text from him saying "check your mailbox <3" and boom, there's a brand new necklace in there, all shiny and pretty...(he also asks you to wait to put it on so he can do it himself)
𐙚₊˚ puts on your socks and shoes for you!!! pecks your leg after pulling your socks up because duh.... you are royalty!!! even stops in the middle of the sidewalk to tie your shoes if your laces come undone
𐙚₊˚ cooks for you all the time!!! if you even slightly mention craving something, he's in that kitchen before you can even blink >< he lets you sit on the counter and feeds you little bites to taste test because you're his mini chef!!!
˚ ⋆。˚ riwoo
𐙚₊˚ if you order something and you don't like it, he'll happily trade his food with you <333 he's content just seeing you eating well
𐙚₊˚ sings you to sleep and strokes your hair...and if you've been struggling with sleeping lately, he'll stay up with you until you fall asleep first so you don't get lonely :<
𐙚₊˚ if he sees something that reminds him of you at the store, trust that he'll be buying it in .3 seconds..."oh y/n would like this", "this is y/n's favorite color", "they were thinking about getting one of these"... like he's always thinking of you
𐙚₊˚ "i don't ever want you to be upset, darling. let's talk about this, okay?" like he's so serious about communication. he values your point of view and input over anything and makes sure you always feel seen and heard!!!
jaehyun ˚ ⋆。˚
𐙚₊˚ opens every single door for you because why would his s/o ever have to touch a dirty door handle when he's literally right there???
𐙚₊˚ writes you lengthy handwritten notes and poems...sneaks them in your bag when you aren't looking or leaves them on your side table to wake up to <3
𐙚₊˚ surprises you with a bubble bath and tea when you get home from a stressful day...gives you a massage after and encourages you to vent to him so he can hold some of your burdens for you :((
𐙚₊˚ brags about you!!! he loves sharing your achievements with people, showing you off to everyone he knows because he's so proud of you and so so so lucky that you chose him <3
˚ ⋆。˚ taesan
𐙚₊˚ your personal photographer!!! takes pics of you all the time, whether you ask him to or not (he prides himself in getting the perfect candids for your feed)
𐙚₊˚ notices the super small things... like oh you don't like tomatoes in your food so he picks them all out for you <3 and he knows you always carry chapstick in your bag, so he buys you a bunch so you never run out
𐙚₊˚ buys you so... many... clothes... you're sure more than half of your wardrobe is made up of taesan's contributions... it's not his fault you look good in everything!!! he just has to get everything for you so he can see you in it himself <3 (and mayyyybe show you off to everyone else)
𐙚₊˚ makes you personalized mixtapes and writes love songs about you!!! (for your ears only!!)
leehan ˚ ⋆。˚
𐙚₊˚ "hey beautiful", "you're so gorgeous", "my pretty baby" and any other sappy compliment he can give you at every waking hour of the day
𐙚₊˚ chivalry is not dead for as long as leehan is around!!! he'll give you his coat if you're cold, walks on the outside of the curb to keep you safe, carries your purse/bag for you, pays for all your dates (even if you insist on splitting the bill), etc.
𐙚₊˚ he does all of the planning for trips and he's so intentional and thoughtful about everything so you never have anything to worry about other than being pretty and enjoying yourself <3
𐙚₊˚ loves giving you his clothes to wear like nothing makes him happier than seeing you in his big hoodies and t-shirts!!! he'll even take his hat off and place it on your head simply because "you look cuter with it" like he's so obsessed
˚ ⋆。˚ woonhak
𐙚₊˚ #1 hype man!!! even if you aren't feeling too confident, he'll be showering you in compliments and praise because you're always beautiful to him, no matter what
𐙚₊˚ leaves you a bunch of texts throughout the day just to check in on you, sends you silly selfies, makes sure you've eaten, and if he asks you to recap your day to him, you better type 4 whole paragraphs about every single detail or he won't accept it ><
𐙚₊˚ posts you every. single. day. like it's actually crazy... you'll click on his Instagram story and boom, there's a cute picture of you picking flowers at the park with the caption 'they're the prettiest flower in the world' and it's so so so cheesy but it makes your heart flutter every single time
𐙚₊˚ shares your hobbies!!! if you're into crocheting, he will sit there for 3 hours making a blanket with you...or if you like to do makeup, he'll let you practice on him!!!
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reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3
masterlist
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vikdelrey · 10 months
Text
SOFT
ft. roronoa zoro
summary. unlike what many people think, zoro prefers sweet, reassuring sex by the woman he loves. wc. 750
cw / tw. fem!reader, soft!zoro, somewhat dom!reader unprotected sex, pet names (ex. sweet girl, sweet thing, baby) soft sex, riding, mdni 18+ readers.
an. this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, i hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs are appreciated :) (also we need more one piece writers ugh)
most people who knew, or knew of zoro we’re always surprised to see him with such a sweet and compassionate girl. even the sheer size difference made others uneasy with their own thoughts. “god she’s strong for taking all.. that.” the voice came from a few blonde girls who were giggling behind you two. oh, how wrong they were.
zoro wasn’t a very romantic man, to say the least, but he knew how to be gentle with you. he made sure to watch the way your body moved when he touched you. the sounds you made when he did something you liked. he could be rough on occasion, but never without your consent. “what ya lookin’ at sweet girl?”
you were lost in thoughts about what those girls were talking about when zoro sleeping on your shared bed caught your eye, until he caught you stealing a glance. “oh just admiring you.” the tips of his ears immediately flushed a cute shade of pink. “not much to admire these days.” your smile dropped as he turned his head away from you.
it was the scars. zoro didn’t know if you still found him as attractive after being apart for so long. you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by bringing it up so you never did, which also contributed to the newfound insecurity. “don’t say things like that zo. i think you’re perfect.” it wasn’t long before you were placing yourself into his lap. “in fact, i think you look so handsome right now.”
there it is, that playful smirk on his face as you ran your fingers through his green hair. “yeah baby?” you replied with a quiet ‘mhm’ followed by a peck on his lips. “i can show you just how handsome i think you are hm?” you pulled away to trace the scar over his eye, giving it a quick peck before your thumb traced his lips.
zoros lips parted as your hips lightly rocked against his own, pulling low gasps and groans from your him. your small fingers rushed to rid the swordsman of his pants, aching to see him. “someone excited.” he chuckled at your antics. his rough hands began to kneed at your nightgown, slowly lifting the thin fabric to reveal your plush thighs spread over his. your lack of panties made his mouth go dry.
“lift your hips zo.” he followed your command and watched as you tugged his pants and boxers down his hips. zoro had never seen you so eager to jump his bones before and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t slightly boost his ego and turn him on. you wasted no time crawling up further on his cock making him hiss.
he felt your small fingers wrap around the base of his cock, quickly tugging as you kissed along his jaw. nothing could compare to this feeling. “slow down sweet thing you’re g’na give me whiplash.” you giggled against his tan skin, pulling away to face your lover. “i love you zoro.” his name came out as a whine as you lifted your hips and began to sink down onto his throbbing cock. “ngh fuck baby s’tight.”
the erotic noises he made couldn’t be contained anymore. your hand began to wonder his skin and you stared down at him with so much love and affection. “i love you so much yn. s’much mm-.” your hips kept a steady pace, keeping him in between calm and cumming. “you look so beautiful right now zoro.” his hips stuttered as he let out a breathy moan at the compliment. “could look at my sweet boy forever.”
it sent him over the edge within seconds. the featherlight touches, the compliments, the tightness of your warm walls around him. “m’cumming god! shit m’fuckin’ cumming!” the sight below you had your head spinning. your big strong man, trembling under you. “just a little more baby.”
he was trying so hard for you. his legs trembled, noises were escaping his throat that he had no idea he was capable of making. “mmh so close, just- ngh.” tears began gathering on his lash line, the overstimulation making his back arch ever so slightly. “yes m’cummin’ baby!” his arms caged your body into his, panting softly into your ear as you rode out your high. his body finally became calm, his soft snores filling your ears. all you could do was admire him, his watery eyelashes, and flushed face. you couldn’t have asked for more than this.
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helen-with-an-a · 3 months
Text
Embarrassing Moments
Hi. So this is my first real fic I've written but yeh. This is inspired by mine and @lyak12 's ramblings and daydreamings hehe.
Anyways, I don't think there are any warnings - it gets a little suggestive but no outright smut (if you get me) anyways here it is
Lucy Bronze x reader
TW: Suggestive (no outright smut - lead up to it)
Word count: 3.3k
Description: Lucy wants to break your record after the Champions League final
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You had done it. Champions of Europe. You felt bodies land on you, causing you to stagger forwards. It hadn’t sunk in yet, and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to. This daze, this elation. You finally understood was Lucy was talking about, you wanted it again. She had always said as soon as she won something it was onto the next thing. And she was right. You had missed out on the Euros through injury, but you knew you wanted this feeling to never stop and to replicated it in a few months with the 3 Lions on your chest. Missing out on the Euros was saddening but getting to watch the entire tournament as a fan was an experience you hadn’t been able to do for a long time. But this joy was something else. Knowing that it was you that helped drag your team over the finish line. Knowing that you contributed to this win.
‘Oh, my fucking god!’ Keira screamed, arms wrapping round your shoulders.
‘Oh, my fucking god!’ You laughed, finally coming down to earth a little bit – at least enough to soak up the moment.
You were passed around from person to person. Sweaty hugs, sloppy kisses planted on cheeks, laughter and shouts coming from all directions. It wasn’t until familiar strong arms gripped you tightly that your head finally came out of the clouds.
‘Campeones de Europa,’ you said softly as you grinned up at her. ‘What’s this title? Number 4?’ She laughed
‘Eh. This one’s the most special.’ She replied. You furrowed your eyebrows at her, cocking your head to the side. ‘I’ve got you to celebrate with me’.
‘Oh, dear lord, Luce. So bloody cheesy’.
‘What can I say? I’ve got a trophy. And another champions league medal’. You rolled your eyes. She was always joking that out of all the medals and titles she’d won, you were her best prize.
You stood side by side as you clapped for Wolfsburg. Despite not knowing many of them personally, you knew how hard this would be for them. You didn’t doubt they would be back with a vengeance next year. Suddenly, it was your turn. Aitana was in front of you, beaming away and prattling something in Catalan. You couldn’t understand it, but you didn’t care. She was happy and that’s all that mattered.
Lucy was behind you – a hand dangerously low on your waist as she gently pushed you towards the officials. ‘Gracias,’ you murmured as a medal was slipped round your neck. You felt so much pride as you stepped up to kiss the trophy. Barcelona’s trophy. Your trophy. You took your place on the podium and pressed yourself into Lucy’s side. More shouts and cheers rang out as confetti rained down.
‘Hey.’ Lucy called to get your attention. You were trying to find your family – you had seen them briefly yesterday but, like all match days didn’t look for them in the crowd before the game. You turned, smiling when you realised just how close you were to her body. Hard muscles, soft skin, and that unique Lucy scent – a little sweaty, floral undertones from her shampoo and body wash and something undeniably Lucy. It was intoxicating. ‘I’m going to kiss you now. Okay?’ You think it was a question but the way she said it was a statement. Her hands threaded through you hair. The slightest nod was all she allowed before her lips were on yours. You heard cheers from the crowd and teammates alike and fervent camera clicks.
‘That’s…’ you breathed out when you parted. ‘That’s ... we're gonna break the internet.’ You weren’t really concerned. You had never hidden your 3-year relationship, but you had never been a fan of PDA, especially during a game.
 ‘Good.’ She smiled that breath-taking grin, pressing another kiss to your lips, before whisking you off to find your families.
‘You know …’ Lucy trailed off a little while later. You were back in the hotel lobby. Her arms wrapped around you as her fingers dipped below the waistband of your shorts. ‘I’ve been thinking’. You could tell exactly what she was thinking about. Her eyes had been slowly darkening since the dressing room. You had taken off your shirt (the sweaty material was sticking to you in a way that was slowly becoming too much) and danced around with Patri and Pina, screaming Spanish lyrics you only half understood – alcohol working wonders to slowly take away your inhibitions and reservations.
‘Oh no, that’s never good.’ You joked. You had eased up on the alcohol after the changing rooms. You didn’t want to be too drunk that you couldn’t experience the celebrations. Lucy was still nursing a beer, but you knew she was nowhere near drunk.
‘Ha ha,’ She said sarcastically. She readjusted the pair of you, your hands moving to fiddle with the loose hairs at the nape of her neck. ‘I was thinking we should set a new record…’ She waited for you to get what she meant. You looked confused for a moment, her eyebrow raising in response. It clicked. She wanted to beat your previous orgasm record. After the Euros you had gone, round after round, until you finally tapped out at 5 am. ‘It was seven for you after the Euros, right? Combined total of 11? I don’t think we’ve beaten that since then. But I have a feeling… tonight is the night. We’re going for 8… maybe even 9.’ The way she was talking so casually about your previous sex-capades had you blushing scarlet. You weren’t a prude per say but you weren’t as open as Lucy - never really spilling your secrets to your friends, often sporting a bright blush on your cheeks as stories were swapped across the changing rooms. You looked around, but no one was paying attention. Alexia had already dragged Olga off, and it looked like Mapi and Ingrid weren’t too far away either. You could see a hint of lime green disappearing around a corner, so you assumed Jill and Jana were making themselves scarce.
You couldn’t wait any longer. You pushed yourself up onto your toes and smashed your lips into Lucy’s. It wasn’t a pretty kiss. It was intense. Tongues and teeth clashing. Incredibly indecent and not at all appropriate for a public space. But you couldn’t find it in you to care.
‘Take me to bed’. You whispered. You were surprised she heard you – the music was loud and the conversations even louder.
‘Your wish is my command, princess’. The honorific had you clenching you thighs in anticipation of what was to come. The lift was torturous, the walk back to your room agonising, the wait as she fiddled with the key card was unbearable. But finally … finally, you were in your room.
You saw the intensity in Lucy’s eyes as you made your way passed her. It was a little overwhelming you, so to avoid her gaze, you played with the medal that was still swinging around your neck. ‘Your first Champions League title.’ You smiled, quietly proud of the achievement. You had come to Barcelona from your childhood club, Man City, as part of the exodus of players that left the club in the summer. You had never been the receiver of individual awards – not like Lucy who had probably hundreds of accolades to her name. But this felt special. Yes, it was a team award, but you were coming off of an injury that had prevented you from having the euro call up. The Spanish media had started calling you ‘la creadora de juego. ‘The playmaker’. You had been instrumental in most goals this season, either direct assists or making initial runs and occasionally tapping them in yourself. This felt like your medal.
‘I am so proud of you’. Lucy snapped you out of your daze with a gentle hand on your cheek. Whilst you were zoning out, she had stripped out of her top and shorts. It was a sight to see. It had you dizzy at the thought out what that body would do to you and what you could do to it. Thick thighs you could get yourself off on. Defined abs that would clench as you sent her flying over the edge. Strong arms that would hold you to her as she caught her breath again. Rough but soft hands that could have you teetering on the precipice in mere moments.
‘Te voy a follar hasta que veas estrellas.’ That had your head spinning even more. She was well aware of what her use of Spanish did to you and frequently used it to her advantage. I’m going to fuck you until you see stars. God, you hoped so. You let out a shaky breath. ‘Traffic lights?’ She asked, an eyebrow raised in expectation. You cleared your throat. You knew you had to be confident when you told her what the system meant.
‘Green means I’m good. Yellow means slow down. Red means stop’. Your voice was a little shaky.
‘Good girl’. Your heart fluttered as she leant down.
‘I’m not going to hold back.’ She reminded you. Her lips working on your neck leaving dark marks in their wake.
‘I don’t want you too’ You replied as you settle against the pillows. You could feel a smile against your naval as she descended down your body.
The sun is what awoke you the next morning. You were on your front, arms thrown over Lucy as your head rested on her outstretched arm. Her face was turned away from you, but you could already see the damage you had done to her neck. The crisp white sheet contrasted greatly against her tanned skin, but even though it covered her from her waist, you could still see the darkening splotches that you had bitten and sucked into her skin. You doubt you looked much better. You tried to shift so you could shower away the stickiness on your skin, but you couldn’t move. Lucy was facing away from you, her other hand resting on her stomach, so she couldn’t be blamed for whatever was keeping you hostage.
It was then, when you had become more aware of your body, just had much you ached. You had beaten you previous record last night. In fact, you had absolutely demolished your score. She had pulled 10 from you last night. And you had given her 6. You couldn’t imagine what it would take for you to beat this record – maybe the winning World Cup? ‘Luce,’ you called out. Your voice was raspy and deep. This was new – you knew you were loud in bed – you could no longer look at some of your City ex-teammates without being reminded of the amount of teasing you had received after an away win and Lucy’s return to games following an injury – but you’ve never lost your voice from sex before. You cleared your throat at tried again. ‘Luce?’ It was a little better – still undeniably overused but hopefully you could pass it off as from the match and pitch-side celebrations. It was clear that Lucy was still dead to the world, she always had been a deep sleeper, so with a monumental effort, you peeled yourself away from the warmth of her body and shuffled to the edge of the bed. It took more effort and a lot longer than you anticipated but you managed it. You could feel how weak you were, and you knew you couldn’t stand up without help.
‘Hmm, no. Come back.’ A deep, sleep-laced voiced complained from behind you.
‘I need help’. That got Lucy sitting up.
‘What’s wrong?’ She asked quickly, the panic evident in her voice.
‘I can’t stand up’
‘What do you mean you can’t stand …’ she trailed off. ‘Ohhhhh. Fucked you that good, did I?’ You could hear the smugness in her voice. ‘Did such a good job you can’t stand up’.
‘Please, Luce. We need to shower and get breakfast. It’s already past 10’.
‘Alright, alright. I’m here.’ You felt the bed moving before Lucy appeared in front of you. She offered you a hand which you took gratefully. You went to stand again but it was clear that Lucy would need to give more than just a hand. She chuckled a little at your gentle blush but hooked an arm under your elbow and helped you to the shower. You eyed her sceptically as she moved to get in with you.
‘You can barely stand,’ She protested, ‘I’m not about to let you try and shower alone’.
‘Ok but no funny business,’ you warned. She chucked and pressed a sweet kiss to your hairline.
The walk down to breakfast was a slight struggle. After showering you did feel a lot better. Lucy had rubbed the soap into your skin, giving a light a light massage as she went. But you still couldn’t stand up without assistance – once you were standing you were fine, when you were sitting you were fine, the moving in between was the issue. You also had a slight limp in your step and your voice was still raspy. Even after drinking 2 full bottles of water.
‘Hola Y/N. Hola Lucy’. Vicky called from where she was sat. Fuck! You had forgotten the B team had come to watch the match yesterday.
‘H – Hey Vicky’ You cleared your throat and smiled at the 16-year-old as Lucy deposited you next to her. You watched as her face furrowed in confusion and concern – the site of you limping and sounding so rough was not nice for her.
‘What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself in the match?’ Oh, she was so innocent.
‘Yeah, Y/N, did you get hurt last night?’ Mapi looked with faux concern as she sat down at your table. Your jaw tightened as you glared at her.
‘No, no. I’m alright Vicky. I probably just celebrated a little too hard’. You tried to reassure her. Martina looked a little suspicious of you, but the rest of the B team nodded, seeming to accept your answer.
‘Is that right? Partied too hard, did you?’ Alexia sniggered. ‘Or was it another type of celebration that’s got you like this?’ She whispered as she took a seat on your left. You shot her a look.
A plate with a selection of breakfast foods was put in front of you as Lucy slotted in on your right. ‘Thanks, darling’ you said as a kiss was dropped on your head. ‘I don’t think that’s the only name you go by, is it Lucy?’ Patri laughed. You could feel your cheeks beginning to flare pink. Lucy just laughed along, not really minding the light-hearted teasing.
‘Also, Y/N you owe me several coffees. Because of you, I’d didn’t get any sleep,’ Pina added on. Your eyes widened at her comment.
‘Hey. We were celebrating what, can I say?’ Lucy shrugs as she sips on her coffee
‘There’s celebrating and then there’s whatever you guys were doing’ Ana giggled
‘Hey it’s perfectly natural. We’re all human and every human has needs,’ Lucy commented, nonchalantly.
‘Not everyone needs to know what happens behind closed doors, Luce’ You tried to sound joking and confident, but you knew you failed
‘You made it our business by being so loud,’ Salma chuckles.
‘Ok but surely your needs were met by round 3 or 4?’ Laia added in. Lucy just smiled in response and kissed your cheek, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
With every comment thrown your way about your evening with Lucy your cheeks got more and more scarlet. If you could stand up on your own, you would have left to go back to your room by now. It’s not that you necessarily minded the comments thrown your way, it was more that you didn’t like to have all the jokes be at your expense. Due to Lucy’s lack of reaction are your significant and obvious one, you were an easy target. It wasn’t until a comment by Mapi that Lucy intervenes.
‘Hey, Lucy. Do you mind giving me tips? Ingrid’s record is 4 but our anniversary is coming up and based what we all heard last night, I think you might have some.’ That set everyone off on another round of loud laughter. Even Paños and Marta joined in this time– usually they don’t entertain childish comments from some members of the squad.
‘Guys…’ you said weakly. Sure, Lucy liked having a joke around, a little giggle at her, or your, expense was ok every now and then. But she could see this was really beginning to affect you. Your head was bowed down, attempting to hide the worst of the blush. You looked seconds away from crying.
‘Alright, alright. Sorry, I kept you guys up. But let’s move it along, shall we?’ Lucy tried to steer the conversation away from your sex lives without disrupting the joking atmosphere.
‘It’s not you that kept us up.’ Bruna responded.
‘Suficiente’. Lucy said, firmer this time, in that voice that does things to you but everyone else knows she means business. And in Spanish. She knew that would get everyone’s attention – including yours. How could you still be horny after last night? You didn’t have an answer, but you knew it was all down to the woman sitting next you, her hand splayed wide, rubbing comforting circles on your lower back.
‘So, what’s everyone’s plans before the international break or pre-season?’ Ingrid asked. It was an obvious subject change, but you were grateful, nonetheless.
‘Hey, I’m sorry we took it too far,’ Alexia murmured as the attention shifted onto holiday plans. ‘We’re not judging you or anything. Personally, I’m very impressed. My record with Olga is 6 and even then, we have to spend the day in bed afterwards. How many was it?’
’10, I think. Lucy had 6’ You whispered back; voice barely audible as the volume in the breakfast room picked up.
’10. Ay dios mío. No wonder you’re barely walking.’ Alexia seemed incredulous. ‘I’m definitely going to need tips’. She laughed, as did you. Your laughter caught Lucy’s attention. You were still sporting a slight blush, but she could tell you were much more relaxed.
Eventually, breakfast came to an end. People slowly began drifting back to their rooms to get ready for the official celebrations this afternoon. As Lucy helped you stand, you could see Mapi shaking her head, laughing. She was clearly about to say something when Ingrid, the ever-perceptive woman that she was, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her away before anything was said. You winced slightly as you started moving, but you were definitely more mobile than this morning.
‘I really don’t like you right now,’ you grumbled, pouting to emphasise your point – the sounds muffled but still perceptible to Lucy, having been long acquainted with your dramatics.
Lucy laughed loudly at your comment as she sat on the bed. Despite your words, you stepped into her embrace, her fingers gently tracing lines up the back of your thighs.
‘No, you don’t’
‘Yes, I do’ Your actions betraying your words as you pushed her to lie back against the pillows.
Lucy’s laugh must have been loud enough for it to be heard from outside as Mapi shouts drifted through the wood ‘Don’t be too loud. There are children prese-’. A harsh smack cut her off. ‘Ay! Tan violenta, Jesus’ She complained.
‘Sorry, Y/N’, Ingrid’s much softer voice floated passed the door. You groaned in response. But Lucy only laughed more.
‘Come here,’ she commanded gently. You allowed yourself to fall into her warmth.
‘Mmmm, you owe me, Bronze. That was humiliating,’ you mumbled; the events of the last 24 hours catching up with you quickly.
‘Ok…’ Lucy snickered, knowing you didn’t really mind what had happened at breakfast and you definitely wanted a repeat of the night before. As she went to speak again, she noticed your breaths evening out – light puffs of air reaching her neck as you buried your head in her shoulder. ‘Never change, Y/N. Never change’.
488 notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 4 months
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ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʙᴏʏꜱ4ʏᴏᴜ.ᴄᴏᴍ
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ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ
pairing: camboy! yunho x fangirl! reader (fem)
genre: camming au, fluff (lowkeyy), humor, smut
summary: dedicating your hard earned money and free time to your favorite camboy goodboy_99 comes with a lot of perks.
w.c: 3.9k
warnings: switch! yunho, switch sub leaning! reader, there’s some sub 4 sub vibes in this, monster cock yunho, yunnie’s got piercings, exhibitionism/voyeurism, masturbation, edging, use of a cock ring/golden retriever butt plug >:3), teasing, pet names (baby, kitty, kitten, etc), reader calls yunho puppy/pup and he loves that shit, dirty talk, lots of praise, some degradation, kissing, toy usage, nipple play (f/m), squirting, breeding kink, rough unprotected sex, cumming in mouth, snowballing, these losers lowkey fall in love <3
a/n: shoutout to felix @yourfatherlucifer for allowing me to build on your camboy yunho fic idea :3 you're such a genius for that concept <3 so yeah there’s not enough whimpering baby boys with monster cocks in fics i swearrr (if you know of any pls send them my way ><) so i decided to offer my contribution,, more like cumtribution am i right?? *crickets* anygays i had way too much fun with this one skjdhf you'll see what i mean >3< i hope you enjoy ~~
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ᴄʏʙᴇʀꜱᴇx ʙʏ ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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You've never missed a single stream from your favorite camboy goodboy_99, always willing to pull up his stream after a long day at work no matter how tired you were, never opposed to cranking one out in his honor. You sent him a countless amount of coins throughout your obsession, picking out new options from his personal menu, never tired of seeing him act them out with a cute little smirk on his face and your username gracing his pretty pierced lips. 
At first, you were a silent viewer, just concerned with getting yourself off, but then somewhere along the line, you began to leave lots of comments in the live chat, though they were more akin to sexts, and for some odd reason, Yunho paid more attention to yours, instead of the numerous other ones. Maybe it was because you were his number one fan, or perhaps, just perhaps, it was because he was into you too, but you assumed that was just your delulu mind at play. 
Regardless, here you were, sitting with your legs spread in your computer chair, a vibrator on your clit, and your eyes glued on the bright screen that was showcasing your beloved camboy in a similar position: his thighs spread open in his gaming chair, his pretty flushed face contorted in pleasure, fucking himself dumb with a purple pocket pussy, the base of his thick cock constricted with an even thicker cock ring. 
“Aaah, haaah…W-who made me put on this cock ring, huh? It won’t let me cum, guys, c’monnn, lemme cum,” Yunho whined out, a few beads of sweat dripping past his dyed black and red bangs down to the leather dog collar around his neck, giving his webcam a small pout, begging his viewers with his big brown eyes. 
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜɪɴʏ ᴏᴍɢ
➵ ʜɪᴍʙᴏ4ʏᴏᴜ: ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴅʀᴏᴏʟɪɴɢ. ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ
You brought one hand to your keyboard, pressing the rounded side of the large vibrator directly into your clit with the other, making you shudder and jolt, your fingers rapidly pressing into the keys. You’ve been in this exact position so many times before, you knew you couldn’t possibly cum until you saw Yunho fall apart in front of your straining eyes. 
➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴅᴏ ᴜ ᴡɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋ3 ᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ʀɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ɴ0ᴡ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ?
Yunho giggled softly at your typos, running a hand through his sweaty hair, causing it to fall back down onto his forehead, spreading his thighs just a little wider. “Yes, fuck, I’m going to cum all over myself for you, baby.” He pressed his fingers into his aching balls, feeling how sensitive they were, before he slowly slid the cock ring up and off of his leaking cock. “I’ve been edging myself for so longgg, god, it's gonna feel so good.”
➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʟᴜᴠʀ: ɢᴜʏꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɴ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴜᴍꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜꜱ
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ꜰʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ,, ʜᴇ'ʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴇɪʟɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟᴍᴀɴ ᴄʀʏʙᴀʙʏ
Yunho arched his back off of the chair, holding the vibrator near the base of his cock, the vibrations sending endless waves of arousal through his jolting body, the silver chain links hanging from his collar rattling against his drool-stained chest, soft, staccato moans echoing from his drooling mouth, on the edge of ecstasy, but not quite getting there. “Fuck, m’ so close, so close, so close…”
About to catapult into ecstasy yourself, you found it in you to help Yunho reach his much-needed orgasm, rapidly clicking a few options on the webpage. It was the least you could do after watching him edge himself in various ways for your own entertainment. 
Yunho heard a familiar jingling tone emanate from his computer’s speakers, preventing his eyes from fully rolling back into his skull, instead bringing his attention to his bright monitor, his cock beginning to pulse, a few more beads of pre-cum spilling down the shiny, bright red tip. 
➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ¹⁰⁰⁰ ᴄᴏɪɴꜱ
➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴘʟꜱ ᴄᴜᴍ 4 ᴍ3 ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ 
Yunho received a hefty dono from his favorite viewer, got a cute request from them, and got called puppy all at the same time? It was simply too much for a baby boy like him to handle, especially after being teased and edged by his dear audience for so long. “Cumminggg, oh my god, m’ cumming so hard,” Yunho moaned out, dropping the vibrator from his cock, just letting it hang at his side, his thighs jolting each time his veiny cock twitched up into his heaving abdomen. “F-uuuck…” Long spurts of milky liquid splattered onto his straining abs, some shooting across one of his pierced nipples, some of it even gracing his pretty, glistening parted lips. Yunho didn’t even realize he managed to cum inside his own mouth until he tasted the bitterness on his tongue when he swallowed his drool down. “Holy fuck, you guys, I just swallowed my own cum…I should’ve just aimed for my mouth the whole time…Mm, remind me next stream.” 
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪ’ᴍ ɪɴꜱᴀɴᴇ
➵ ꜰᴀɴʙᴏʏ4ᴛᴇᴇᴢ: ᴄᴀʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴘɪᴄᴀꜱꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴋᴋᴋᴋ
The visual and physical stimulation you were providing yourself proved to be almost lethal, dropping your now silent vibrator onto the carpet below, hunched over in your chair, resting the side of your sweaty cheek on your cat paw mouse pad, your twitching, tingling fingers gently pressing into your keyboard. “He looks so pretty…” you whispered to yourself, hearts forming inside your glistening eyes.
➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ʟᴜᴠ ᴡᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜ ᴄᴠᴍ ʏᴜɴɴɪ3 ,, ᴜʀ ꜱ0 ᴄᴜᴛᴇᴇᴇᴇ
Yunho slid his long, slender fingers through the puddles of cum splayed across his chest, bringing them up to his lips, sucking it off of them, his hooded eyes accompanying his curled lips, looking like a mischievous puppy. “If you love seeing me cum so much, Kitty, then you should see it in real life, doncha’ think?”
“Huh?” you reacted, suddenly sitting up straight, your eyes and mouth wide open, wondering if you had nutted so hard, you were having auditory hallucinations. 
While licking the remaining saltiness from his lips, Yunho’s smirk grew wider. “You heard me. Since you’re my biggest supporter, I thought I’d fly you out to join me in a stream. Whaddaya think?” He just sat there, looking smug as hell, confident in himself and his decisions, his heart pounding away inside his chest. 
As you sat there in disbelief, factory resetting in silence, Yunho turned his attention to the rapidly moving live chat, giggling a bit. “That's a pretty hot idea, huh, guys? Wanna watch us fuck each other stupid?”
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴜꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ
➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏʙᴏʏꜱʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅᴍʏʟɪꜰᴇ: ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴛ
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜɢ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ
The rest of the chat had an overwhelmingly positive response, further egging on Yunho’s insane idea and your urge to pack up your bags right then and there. You still weren’t sure if you had fallen into a coma or if this was your reality, but regardless, you hit enter on your poor keyboard. 
➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ᴜ ʙᴛʀ ɢᴇᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ 
➵ ᴜʀꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇᴋɪᴛᴛʏ: ɪᴍ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ 4 ᴜ ♡
You landed a critical hit on Yunho’s heart when your highlighted comments popped up on his screen, causing him to cover his face and spin around in his chair, tiny giggles escaping his throat. He peeked at his webcam through his fingers, whining, “Hurry up, Kitty, I'm waiting!”
࿏࿏࿏
Taking a flight over to him wasn’t too difficult, but what was incredibly difficult was standing with your luggage outside of Yunho’s apartment in an outfit you took hours deliberating over, left to your own devices, which meant that your brain would go over all the reasons why he would send you home as soon as he opened the door. 
Before you could get even more sweaty just from standing there, the door swung open. Yunho’s face suddenly froze, his eyes growing wide, resembling marbles and beginning to sparkle. He just stood there staring at you, taking in all of you, wanting to etch it into his memory. 
“H-hi, Yunnie, I’m Kitty, well, Y/N, heh,” you squeaked out, dropping your bag on the ground to give him a shy wave, your lips quirking up into a nervous smile. “Y-you look even cuter in person.” 
“You’re the cute one here, silly.” Yunho giggled softly, immediately stepping past his doorframe to pull you into a hug, burying you in his oversized dual-colored sweater. “I’m so happy I can finally meet you, Y/N,” he whispered near your ear, rubbing your lower back with his large hand. “We’re gonna have so much fun together…” 
Once he pulled away, you almost melted into the floor, your knees feeling a bit weak, still able to give him a big, goofy smile. “So much fun,” you echoed, your flushed face matching Yunho’s bright red ears. 
࿏࿏࿏
After spending a bit more time together just hanging out around Yunho’s apartment and taking time to talk about whatever, including a discussion about your sexual experiences and limits, your walls seemed to drop all together, realizing he was just as chill, and just as perverted, in real life as he was during his streams. Your heart still raced over the smallest things, but that was for a different reason. Your body was practically vibrating as well, but that also had a different cause, a far more explainable one. 
“So,” Yunho began, gently running his thumbs over your knuckles, licking at the piercing on the side of his bottom lip. “Should we go live now?” He squeezed your hand slightly, leaning in to drown you with his intense gaze. “Are you in the mood to play, baby?” 
You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were essentially the human embodiment of Niagara Falls, having to squeeze your thighs together as much as you could to keep your arousal from dripping down your inner thighs past your short skirt. “I really wanna play with you, Yunnie,” you replied, gently placing your hand on his knee, your fingers moving past his ripped jeans to make contact with his warm skin. 
“Then, let’s play, Kitty.” Blushing and returning your sweet smile, Yunho reached up to caress your cheek lovingly, before standing up to turn his webcam on and start up a new stream. 
Yunho sat down in his spacious chair, making sure his pretty guest of honor stood in front of him for the time being as his faithful viewers showed up in the chat in large waves, eventually holding his hands out near you like he was presenting a prize. “Here she is, everyone!” He gave the webcam a playful smile past your shoulder, coaxing you to sit comfortably inside his large lap, his hand going up to pet your head, which you nuzzled into, the small bell collar he put on you earlier jingling a bit. “My Kitty finally arrived for playtime.” 
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴏᴛ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ??? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ???
➵ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏɢʀʟ: ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴜɪɴɢ
“Now, c’mon Kitty, show everyone how excited you are to be here,” Yunho purred near your ear, reaching around you to grab your thighs, gently pulling them open as you spread them fully out yourself. 
With your thighs trembling, you revealed the bright pink vibrator you’ve had lodged inside you for the past hour, your cunt already so slicked up with arousal that the toy threatened to slip out of you if you didn’t keep clenching around it. “So full…” 
“Do you see, everyone? See how good I treat my guests?” Yunho asked his audience, making a downwards V over the top of your cunt, rubbing his fingers along your folds, making sure to stimulate your clit at the same time. “I watched her shove this toy up her cute little pussy earlier…She’s been walking around my apartment with it inside ever since like a good little slut.” 
➵ ᴅᴏɴᴛʟᴏᴏᴋᴀᴛᴍᴇ: ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɪᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴡᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴍᴍᴍ
Moaning at the feeling of Yunho pulling the toy out and slipping it back inside your hole, you leaned your head back into his chest, his stiff cock pressing into your ass, your hands moving back to play with his hair. “Wanna touch you too, puppy…” 
“I know you do, Kitty. You’ll get to put your hands all over me in a second, I promise.” Yunho nuzzled your cheek, giving it a gentle lick that made you shiver, pulling the toy out agonizingly slow, inch by inch, drawing a long moan from your lips. He slipped both of his arms around you, bringing his hands down to spread you open with his thumbs, your clenching cunt on display for every single one of his viewers to drool over. “Look at this pretty kitty’s hole, everyone. So pink, so wet, so ready to use, huh?” 
His follower and viewer count hit a sudden spike, making the both of you giggle to each other. Yunho then lifted one of your thighs up onto the chair, spreading his own thighs open a bit just in time for a golden retriever tail to become visible fo his viewers, his ass comfortably filled with one of his favorite plugs. “Kitty watched me put this in after she filled herself up. It slipped in so easily too, and my sweetheart got so wet, but I told her she couldn’t cum until you guys got to see. Aren’t I the best, guys?” His chat sped up a little faster, the majority of people talking in all caps, making Yunho chuckle.
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɢᴜʏꜱ ɪ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ 
➵ ᴅᴏɢʙᴏʏ: ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ ᴜꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ
When you whimpered and nudged him for his attention, Yunho nodded knowingly with his cheek against yours, nuzzling it. “Oh, I know, baby. You’ve been so good letting that toy fill you up for so long, but you need more. Is that right? You need puppy’s cock in your breeding hole, don’t you?” he teased you in a low, pouty voice, rubbing your wetness around your clit with one hand, using his other hand to push the vibrator in and out of your clenching cunt, going faster and faster until you began to cry out.
“Yes, puppy, please, I can’t take it…!” you voiced desperately, jolting against Yunho’s body, about to scream when he pressed the rounded end of the vibrator to turn it up even higher, your thighs beginning to shake. “Oh my god, i’m gonna…”
“Cum for me, Kitty, cum for everyone….” Yunho squeezed your clit roughly, simultaneously jamming the vibrator into you at such a velocity that you screamed, your arousal starting to pour out of you, the clear liquid getting onto Yunho’s thighs and the chair below. Yunho groaned at the sight, using his hand to rub your juices around just to hear how wet it was, moaning, “Oh, fuckkkk, look at that, Kitty’s making such a mess for us.” He brought his dripping fingers to his drooling mouth, eagerly sucking your cum off of them. “Did that feel good, kitten?”
“So good…” Feeling Yunho’s rock-hard cock throbbing against your lower back, you squirmed around against him, turning your head to look at him, still panting softly from your ear ringing orgasm. “Wanna make you feel good too, pup, with my breeding hole…”
“Oh, yeah?” Yunho nosed your neck, licking a stripe up your neck past your collar to make you shiver, looking you straight in the eye afterward. “Wanna squeeze around me, baby? Feel how big I am inside your tiny little cunt?”
You reached up to caress his hair, gently tugging on it, your eyes full of desperation for your favorite streamer. “Please. Want you to stuff me with your cock. Wanna make you cum from how tight I am for you.”
Yunho unknowingly began to rut against you, leaving streaks of pre-cum on the small of your back. “That’s my slutty little kitty…so eager to be filled by her puppy…” He reached back around you to spread your hole open once again for the camera, looking at his webcam with hazy, hooded eyes. “What do you think, chat? Should I fuck this kitty full of my pups?”
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ɴᴏᴡᴡᴡᴡᴡᴡ
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ɢᴇᴛ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ᴇxᴘʟᴏᴅᴇꜱ
Unable to take Yunho’s teasing anymore, you quickly stood up, wobbling slightly, before you sat back in his lap, this time facing him, the both of you struggling with his joggers to pull his cock out, already grinding yourself along it when it was finally free, the slippery ridge of his silicone cock ring supplying you extra pleasure. “Need you, Yunnie,” you whimpered, pulling at his collar to bring his parted lips onto yours, your tongues joining in the middle. 
Yunho moaned into your mouth, swiveling the chair to the side so that his viewers could still get a good look at your shared desperation, his cock starting to throb steadily against your slick cunt when you began to suck on his tongue — though the whining and whimpering noises Yunho was known for didn’t start until you began to rub and flick at his pierced, hardened nipples from underneath his sweater, his hands diving underneath your own sweater to grope and pull at your tits, eventually moving to your ass to squeeze it, your hips lifting up slightly so that he could tease your entrance with his leaking cockhead. 
You moved your hips back slightly so that you could reach down, grabbing at the base of his tail and moving it around experimentally until Yunho began to gasp for air, figuring you were rubbing against his prostate. “Does that feel good, puppy? Am I hitting the right spot?”
“S-so good, makes me wanna fuck you, kittennn, wanna fuck you dumb on my cock. Can I, please?” Yunho suddenly begged you, fucking himself back on the plug that you continued to maneuver around inside him, not hesitating to give you the most adorable, lust-drunk pouty face you’ve ever witnessed in your life. 
“Yes, puppy, please, please, please fuck me,” you answered just as desperately, ruffling his soft, slightly damp hair, letting go of his tail to wrap your arms around his neck.
Yunho quickly swiveled the chair back to its original position so that your ass and throbbing cunt was on full display from behind, using two fingers to spread your open for him, slowly guiding his thick cock inside you inch by inch, until he completely bottomed out, resulting in a blissful sigh from the both of you. “Look at you, kitten, so fucking full of my cock. I’m gonna fuck your brains out,” he groaned, his large hands encasing your hips, immediately jack hammering himself into you like he was using a fleshlight, your joined bodies creating a lewd symphony of slick sounds.  
Yunho rammed himself into you so roughly, you couldn’t do anything else except take it, bouncing on his monstrous cock over and over again, the tip of it repeatedly forming a bulge inside your stomach that only Yunho could see, throbbing inside you from the sight of it. “So good, it’s so good, Yunnie, love your cock…!” 
“Love your wet cunt, Kitty, love how tiny you are, like you’re gonna break just from getting pounded into by my puppy cock,” he moaned back, gripping your ass so hard, your flesh squished through his strong fingers, still driving you down onto his cock like you were made for him, for his pleasure. “Makes me wanna stuff you full of my litter….”
“A-aaah, but puppy likes being edged with his cock ring, doesn’t he? It feels so much better like this, yeah?” you huffed out, reaching behind you to squeeze one of his intensely swollen balls, receiving a high-pitched, pleasured moan from your playmate.
“Feels so fucking good, Kitty,” Yunho agreed, mindlessly kicking the speed of his thrust game into hyper-drive, mindlessly fucking himself into you so roughly, so sloppily, his cock almost slipped out a few times, requiring him to hold you down by your hips. “Your pussy’s clenching so hard around me, baby, it’s so tight for me…Feels like you’re gonna cum…”
“Yeah, gonna cum, puppy, feels too–aaah-good…!” 
Yunho locked his arms around your waist, his hips never faltering, his veiny length rubbing along your inner walls in just the right way, making you cry out. He pressed his lips onto your ear, slipping his hand in between your sweaty bodies to rapidly rub your stiff clit, purring, “Good girl, cum for me, kitten. That’s right, baby, squirt on my cock…” 
When you came, you came hard, your arousal leaking out around his slippery cock, your body jolting as each wave of pleasure coursed through you, resting your head on his shoulder, his sweater slipping down it. Once you recovered, Yunho pressed his lips against yours, whispering words of praise, among other things that his audience couldn't hear until you slowly lifted yourself off of him. 
“I think it’s time to make our good puppy cum, don’t you think, guys?” you asked his webcam, walking around Yunho’s chair to stand behind it, running your hands down his body, reaching for his twitching cock, slipping your closed fist up and down it until you made Yunho whimper pathetically, tears forming inside his eyes, causing the already rapidly moving chat to go completely ape-shit. 
➵ ᴡʏɴɢ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴍᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴄʀʏ
➵ ꜱɴ: ɴᴏᴏᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴄᴜᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ɪᴛ :(
You continued to pump his reddened, leaking cock, replicating his incredibly needy facial expression, pouty lips and all, murmuring, “Awww, poor puppy wants to cum so bad, huh?” 
Yunho bucked his hips up into your hand, trying to fuck himself into your closed fist, his abs and muscles straining from his desperation, his ass clenching around his favorite plug, more drool beginning to leave his lips and dribble down his neck to his dog collar. “Please, let puppy cum, wanna cum inside my mouth like a dirty boy,” he babbled out, tears overtaking his vision once the pain of edging himself for so long began to overtake the pleasure on his almost orgasm. 
“Mm, then be good and cum, puppy,” you replied sweetly, suddenly slipping the pre-cum drenched cock ring off of Yunho and bringing it up to his mouth, watching him lap up the clear liquid off of it without you even having to ask. “Such a naughty boy, so good for us, aren’t you?”
“So good, Kitty, m’ so good,” Yunho echoed, running his hands up and down your forearms for his own comfort, practically panting like an actual dog would, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. “Gonna cum so hard…” 
“Cum so hard for us, Yunnie, come on, that’s it….” Leaning yourself over his shoulder, you used both hands to milk his long, heavy cock, driving loud, whiny moans out of him, along with spurt after spurt of milky cum, watching the way he caught the stream of it on his lolled-out tongue. Yunho tilted his head back, looking up at you with teary, glazed-over eyes, making a small noise, clearly wanting to share himself with you. 
Without hesitation, you pulled him by the collar, pressing your mouth onto his, his tongue slipping inside it almost instantly, lazily swapping his hot cum and saliva with you, the both of you swallowing the combination down with ease afterwards, your hands caressing one another’s sweaty faces. After a shared gaze of affection, Yunho pressed a kiss onto your nose, making you blush harder than you had the whole night. 
When the post-nut clarity hit him, Yunho sat up a bit in his chair, giving his webcam a variety of hearts using his hands. “Thank you all for tuning in for this special stream, everyone! Love you!” 
➵ ᴀɴᴏɴ: ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴀᴡ ɢᴏᴅ
➵ ᴘᴜᴘ: ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘɪꜱᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ
➵ ᴡʏ: ʙᴇᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇᴀᴛ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ
➵ ꜱɴ: ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ♡
As soon as Yunho turned his webcam off, he brought you into a tight, comforting hug, nuzzling the side of your head with his own. “You did so good, Y/N…That was amazing, this is amazing…” 
You hugged him back just as tight, your heart fluttering, wondering if it was all just physical between the two of you or if there was something else blossoming behind the lens of the webcam. “I think so too, Yunnie…I just…” You began to pull back, causing Yunho’s happy expression to drop a bit. 
“What’s wrong, Y/N? You didn’t have fun?” he murmured, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. 
“No, it’s not that! I had tons of fun, Yunnie, the most fun I’ve had in a long time…” you reassured him, ruffling his damp dyed hair as gently as possible, smiling at him with your eyes. “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know? So I should probably–”
“No, no, noooo,” Yunho repeated whinily, pulling you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck this time, enveloping you in his comforting scent and warmth. He eventually pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead onto yours, gazing at you, as if he was letting you take a peek at his beating heart through his eyes.  “Stay…?” 
You swallowed harshly to keep your heart from bubbling up into your throat, warmth searing into your cheeks, murmuring, “Are you sure?” 
Yunho bit at his bottom lip, lowering his head slightly so you didn’t have to see just how red he had become, though his bright red ears betrayed him. He eventually looked back into your eyes, swallowing down his nerves. “Y/N, what if…what if told you I was your number one fan too? What would you say then?” 
With your heart hammering away inside your chest, you pulled yourself together just enough to softly press your lips against his. You smiled up at him afterwards, caressing his cheek, your eyes twinkling with adoration for your favorite puppy boy. “Does that answer your question? Or do you need another?”
Yunho pouted cutely, just about ready to melt inside your arms. “Another.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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mechaknight-98 · 5 months
Text
Home Run (NSFW) Ft. Sohee
The winner of poll for Wednesday’s fic. Hope y'all enjoy.
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Sohee had always loved baseball for the entirety of your relationship. It was so all-consuming that you often wondered if she loved the "sport" more than you. You couldn't stand the sport however mostly because of its glacial pace, and lack of stacks in moment-to-moment play. Rugby was more your speed, but you learned the tells and watched 4 full seasons of Eagles games. at this point, you knew the sport almost inside and out begrudgingly, but you loved Sohee and she did make it worth your while. when watching the last game of the season you partially zoned out as a new game on the switch came out. so you were enjoying that Muted so Sohee could get the full experience of watching her team. As the game winded down you looked towards the stat sheet to catch up on what was going on.
"Ugh well, there goes our chance at playoffs." Sohee groaned indicating that both the game and her team's season were over.
Absent you say, "Their playoff hopes were dashed ages ago and until they do something about their offensive play then they will continue to fall behind the pack."
Sohee turns to you surprised, "How do you know this she challenged
"Well, defensively they are great 12 strikeouts to 8 is insane, they also had a similar number of at-bats, hits, and batting averages. the disparity comes in runs batted in and bases on ball which contributed to an early lead for the Giants that was just too much to overcome. You explained without looking up from your switch.
"but other games have been closer!" Sohee asserted confidently.
at this point, you look up from your switch to smile at your lovely girlfriend and say, "Baby I love you but your team finished 9 out of 10 in the rankings this year. I know you say it's not a "numbers" game and there is more to it than stats but in this specific case the numbers don't lie." To soften the sting you kiss her cheek.
Sohee smiles and says, "Since when did you become an expert on my team."
"Babe," you groan, "We have watched this entire season. Now I know they are not the same team as last year but at least for this season, they had offensive issues. That much is apparent with how many games ended in one-sided games of 7-2 or 8-0, or..." Sohee seeing your point kisses you before you start running more numbers off. Quiet as it's kept she would always get so turned on when you talked baseball. She was dripping wet when she straddled you as the kiss languished into a full make-out.
"Someone's feeling frisky." you tease.
"I just can't help it. When my boyfriend knows his stuff it makes me all excited." Sohee replies demurely, she would never admit it to you but whenever you started getting super into the stats and numbers her head would begin to spin with arousal and she always had to resist the urge to just drain you then and there. Today though you were both off for the next couple of days so she could fuck you as long as she wanted. She began the horizontal tango by pushing down on the couch as she began to kiss you more fervently.
"Um, babe I hate to kill the mood but can I ask that you give me one second to let go of the switch." You asked as she broke the kiss to breathe.
"hm," Sohee huffed.
"Hey I can't massage your ass the way you like if I don't have both my hands." you tease. Sohee smiled gleefully and let you go. you run to the dock to place your switch before going back to her, and she wastes no time returning to her attack on your body, but you are not merely prey. you counterattack her kisses of your neck and collarbone by massaging her bountiful rump. She mewls in pleasure eager to egg you on. As the two of you kiss her tongue is the first to explore your mouth. She draws you in and refuses to relinquish control as she has her tongue dance along the whole of your mouth. when she breaks the kiss to breathe a trail of saliva links the two of you together still Sohee licks her lips and purrs before unfastening your belt. You groan in pleasure as she fishes out your cock and begins to suck on it. you try not to push her down as her cheeks hollow and she takes you further than ever, but the comfort and warmth of her throat cause you to buck your hips which leads to a further loss of control as you begin to relentlessly fuck her throat. You watch as your girlfriend's eyes roll back as you continue to use her throat to pleasure you. the sounds of gags break the silence of your shared apartment, as she submits to you wholly and completely. You continue to use her throat with reckless abandon
You don't stop until you feel your release and cum down her throat. As you sense, you see Sohee stare at you with a look she has never displayed before. She gets up and smiles at you lustfully. "You like using me like a little fuckdoll?" she says with angered lust.
"You like just using my throat like it's your toy?" she pressures. She begins to corner you and of course, this leads to the bedroom. she pushes you down and begins to suck your cock again. you groan as she takes you down her throat, but this time it's different as she begins to manipulate her throat muscles in a way that's foreign but insane to you.
"Oh God," you scream as Sohee works over your cock. Sohee smiles and eggs you on
"You gonna cum for mommy. Come on cum down Mommy's throat like the good boy you are and I just might let you fuck my pussy." You can't hold out much longer as Sohee continues to relentlessly suck and gorge herself on your rod before you cum again, but she's not done with you yet. she begins to rub your cock to get it hard again
Your overwhelmed body barely can stop the moan of pleasure and discomfort as Sohee takes you inside. She smiles at Sickly while watching you squirm under her.
“Babe please stop,” you beg but Sohee begins to ride you oblivious to your discomfort she chases her high.
“Oh I just love how you fill me up,” she says as she begins her deadly body roll her tight tummy hypnotizes you as she continues grinding on your cock. She continues to chase her release despite your protests. You groan and wince as she pushes you further and further past your
limits, while she loses herself more and more to pleasure. Eventually, you pass out.
When you wake up your head is pounding as you feel something wet and tight on your crotch it's Sohee. She's passed out while you're still inside her. You chuckle and adjust so the two of you can cuddle together. When you get into a comfortable position Sohee nestles closer.
“I may not know baseball but you are my favorite home run,” you say as you fall asleep again
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inkbybambi · 6 months
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bar owner!john price kisses you under the mistletoe —
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words: 4.9k rating: e warnings: fem!reader, praise kink/praises, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, multiple orgasms, pet names, biting/marking, finger sucking, size kink, john steals your panties, please let me know if i missed anything. this has been edited to the best of my ability. notes: this is my contribution to @bunnyreaper's call of duty secret santa exchange and is dedicated to @a-very-bored-blogger ♡ my blog and all my works are 18+ so minors dni. proper warnings have been provided.
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being the boss’s favorite has its perks.
you’re the first to try new spirits and brews he orders for the bar. he doesn’t bother trying to hide his snort of amusement each time your face scrunches up when something tastes particularly awful.
you try to hide your blush when he delicately takes the glass from your hand, fingers briefly touching, throwing back the rest of the drink without flinching.
smug bastard always winks after.
you’re the only one allowed to lounge in his office on your lunch, even when he’s not there. you ignored the pointed looks from the others when he first gave you the key. it dangles on a pink, heart-shaped carabiner. there’s a drawer of snacks and a mini-fridge that’s always stocked for you. a pile of your books are stacked on his desk with his other papers, most of them he gifted himself.
you never see the way his cheeks go pink every time you read one of the books he chose.
you’re the only one allowed to take the beanie off his head. sometimes he puts it there himself. soap tried it once and never again after his hand got thwacked with a wet dish rag.
your favorite perk?
the way he lingers when you’re the one closing, always nearby as you wipe down the counters and dry the glasses. the gentle press of his palm at the small of your back when he maneuvers around you; when he hands you something you’ve asked for and his eyes glitter when you say thank you; the soft touch at the nape of your neck when you’re finally done and tucking the rag away, gently guiding you to the door.
sometimes he walks you home. sometimes he drives you. you’ve begun to look forward to it now.
lately — more often than not — you find yourself hiked up on the counter, john standing between your legs, radiating heat like a furnace, his big hands cupping your face as his tongue slides deep into your mouth, tasting you and swallowing your soft whines.
he always tastes like cigars, which you complained about at first, but now you couldn’t care about when his fingers thread though your hair, tipping your head to the side so he can slide his mouth along the line of your throat, beard scratching your skin.
he’s careful to not leave any marks. but each time his teeth skim the column of your throat, he presses sharper, harder.
you want him to bite you.
everyone assumes you two are fucking anyway.
he said he’d walk you home. 
twenty minutes ago.
he pulls away, leaving you breathless, pressing his nose against your cheek. you close your eyes and lean into him, lightly scratching at the base of his skull.
“should get you home,” he rumbles low in his chest, voice like gravel. it makes you ache.
you can’t say much apart from a small hum of agreement, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body.
he doesn’t make any effort to pull away either.
his lips drag from your cheek to your jaw, nipping at the hinge before soothing it with his tongue. you shudder on an inhale, waiting for what’s next.
“let me get your bag,” he murmurs, voice still soft as if he doesn’t want to shatter the calm that’s settled over you two, like a veil of gossamer protecting you from the outside world.
with one last, slow kiss, he leaves to gather your bags, slipping his beanie on your head and walking you out. 
he clicks the lights off.
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no matter how many times or how often you find yourself wrapped in winter’s cold embrace of snow and icy wind, you hate it. 
you like it from the inside. with a warm drink of whatever — sometimes spiked, if you’re feeling cheeky — and blessedly not outside. 
this is your first christmas with the bar — with the boys — and john invited you to help decorate for the season. 
this is your first time feeling like you belong somewhere. the boys have been together for years now, as you’ve learned over your time with them, but they took you in and made you feel welcome from the very start. 
you, however, felt awkward the first couple shifts, as to be expected. one night, about a week settling into the job, you stood up to a particularly rowdy client — gaz and soap minding the bar with you, exchanging glances with each other and keeping an eye on the situation; simon and john lingering around the billiard tables with some regulars, also with an eagle eye on you. you didn’t back down to his crass attitude and sharp words, damn near throwing the lime you were cutting at his face. a tense moment or so passed before he submitted, mumbling an apology and throwing a twenty pound note on the bar along with the rest of his tab, slinking to a seat in the back. 
closing the bar a few hours later, soap handed you a shot of something gross with a proud smirk on his face, gaz excitedly talking with you, relaying the moment with vigor, his eyes sparkling with amusement as if you were some sort of superhero. simon, far more subdued than the others and wearing his skull-painted balaclava, simply gives you a nod of  approval as he raises a glass to you.
that was the first night john kissed you. 
you’ve felt at home ever since. 
snow flurries cling to your lashes as you trudge through layers of snow, scarf wrapped up around your nose and john’s beanie pulled down as much as possible. 
you tried to return it last night before he left, but he insisted on you keeping it. you’re grateful for that now, stuffing your hands as deep into your pockets as possible, hating the way the wind bites so fiercely, it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all — bones and blood turning to ice.
ten excruciatingly cold minutes later, you stumble into the bar, shaking yourself off like a wet dog and stomping your boots to dislodge the snow clinging to the sole. some of it buried into the back of your boot while walking, and you try not to make a face when your socks feel damp.
“there she is!” comes soap’s cheerful call, standing behind the bar with a cardboard box in front of him. 
you unravel yourself from the scarf and dust off the beanie from the last of the snow, wiggling your fingers as you make your way over so you can start feeling them again. john turns to look at you with a warm smile, and you flush under his attention. simon accepts a glass from gaz, tipping it towards him in thanks. gaz passes glasses to john and soap next, finally setting one down at the seat next to john — intended for you, as he gives you a knowing smirk, which you pointedly ignore with a roll of your eyes — and sipping from his own as he settles next to soap. 
“what’s this?” you ask, taking a sip. 
“that’s a gin and tonic, love,” gaz replies easily, and you give him an unamused look. 
“i meant the box,” you clarify, as soap chuckles and uses a box cutter to open it, taking out a sheet of paper and reading over it with a soft smile on his lips. 
“this,” he says, pulling a knit sweater from the box and checking the sticky note on the front, handing it to john, “is tradition.” 
you take a healthy sip — gaz uses a heavy hand —and watch as he continues to pull the sweaters from the box, handing one to simon and then gaz. he takes another from the box, resting it in front of him. 
“ma nana, bless her, makes us christmas jumpers,” he says with a fond smile. you watch as gaz eagerly strips his current sweater to put the new one on. 
your heart aches, but the corner of your lips quirk up as you watch even simon pull his on. 
he reaches into the box again, one last sweater being handed to you. “ah told her ‘bout you,” he begins as you take it from him, unraveling it and feeling the sting of tears line your eyes. “she says welcome to the family.” 
you blink at him with teary eyes and he coos at you, leaning over the counter to squish your cheeks affectionately. 
“go on then, hen,” he says as he releases you, nodding towards the jumper. you eagerly strip out of your jacket, taking the beanie off and settling it on the counter before pulling the sweater over your head. 
it fits like a dream. 
“don’t ask,” soap says with a wink, taking a sip and turning away so you wouldn’t even have the chance to ask. 
you look over to john, blue eyes dark as he takes you in, something unreadable in his expression. his eyes flick to yours, gaze softening as he gives you one of his signature smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners so you know it’s real, reaching out to ruffle your hair before standing from his seat. 
“right then,” he says, “let’s get to work.” 
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after the garland has been hung, mistletoe put over every possible doorway thanks to soap, fake poinsettias and other decorations spread all throughout the bar, you deem it to be ready for the holiday. 
or as ready as it can be, but you’ll take what you can. 
the boys turn one of the tvs on to watch the premier league game, lounging in their new, festive jumpers and drinks on the table. you take the moment to slip away to the back office where john is, having retreated there himself a half-hour earlier. 
the door is slightly ajar, but you knock lightly before pushing it open a little more. 
john sits at his desk, sweater pushed up his forearms and stretching across his broad chest. you swallow a pathetic whimper, turning to close the door. you didn’t lock it — fingers crossed the game keeps the boys occupied enough to not worry about you. 
john watches you with those same dark eyes — arousal dampening your panties — as you make your way over to him.  he pushes his chair back enough for you to climb into his lap, settling yourself comfortably over his thick thighs. your fingers card affectionately through his mutton chops, and he lets out a pleased hum, closing his eyes. 
“i got you a gift,” you confess in a whisper, shy and uncertain. 
his eyes flick open, clearly intrigued, but doesn’t prompt you any further. he rests his hands on your hips, dipping under the hem of the sweater to grasp your waist, thumbs rubbing affectionately over your skin, pulling you closer. 
“did you now?” he asks, clearly amused, hands drifting higher. you let out an indignant squeak, swatting his chest. 
“it’s not me!” you say, though the idea certainly isn’t a bad one.
“pity,” he muses, chuckling, before his hands come back to respectfully settle on your waist. “what is it, then?” 
you chew the inside of your cheek, suddenly worrying that it’s too much, or that it’s not enough, or he won’t like it or — 
“love?” he prompts you, as if he could sense the way you’re spiraling into your own mind. 
you balance yourself up on your knees — which doesn’t help your claim that you’re not the gift — pulling out a slightly crumpled, white envelope from your back pocket. you press it against his chest, unable to meet his eyes. his hand — warm and broad and comforting — comes up to rest over yours for a moment before he takes the envelope, opening it with a raised eyebrow. 
he looks over the tickets that rest inside, before he looks back to you, taken off guard.
“merry christmas,” you whisper, even though the holiday is weeks away. he surges up to kiss you, tickets pressed to your cheek as he licks into your mouth, a surprised noise rising in your throat. 
resting your hands on his shoulders, you sink into the kiss, slipping deeper into his lap as his tongue presses against yours, the familiar warmth settling over you. 
“how did you..?” he asks, breathless, moving to press kisses over your cheeks and jaw, and you giggle and push him away, his beard tickling your skin. 
“i used this thing called money,” you tease, scratching at his beard as he rolls his eyes, “which my lovely boss gives me every two weeks.” 
“cheeky,” he laughs, returning the tickets to the envelope and placing it on the desk. “you’ll go with me, yeah?” 
not that he has to ask, but it’s still a sweet gesture. 
two tickets to a newcastle game are tucked into the envelope, set for some time in the new year. you can’t think of a better way for it to begin. 
you know john has a jersey— he wears it on game day. you always appreciate the way you’re able to unashamedly stare at his forearms, corded muscle working as he pours drinks and cleans the counter top. he’s unfairly attractive in it. 
he grasps one of your wrists lightly, breaking you from your reverie, turning it enough to drag his lips across your palm. 
you fall quiet as you watch him, kissing  each of your fingertips, and then pressing your palm against his cheek, looking up at you with reverence, like you were something to worship, to spread out and show his devotion to you.
“you know soap put mistletoe above my door before you came in,” he murmurs and you raise an eyebrow. 
“did he?” 
he hums low in his throat, hands going underneath your jumper once more. you bite your lip as they graze up and down your sides, inching higher and higher. 
“well i’m not one to break tradition,” you reply, leaning in close to press your lips against his. 
you happily sit in his lap as you indulge in his kisses, languid and deep, so content you could almost purr. 
“i have a gift for you too,” he says against your lips, biting at it lightly before kissing the corner of your mouth. you make an interested noise, not wanting to pull away from his mouth, from him. he chuckles as he gives in to kiss you once more, hands beginning to ruck up your jumper. 
he rocks his hips up against yours, and you whine almost pathetically into his mouth, pawing at his shoulders. 
“it’s not this,” he says, clearly amused, but pushes you away enough to bring your jumper up over your head, leaving you in one of your nicer, lacy bras — if you wore it specifically for him, you’ll never tell. 
he’s kind enough to fold it over and place it on his desk before turning his attention back to you. 
“god, look at you,” he marvels, leaning in to press his lips to your collar, down to the valley between your breasts. 
you flush under his attention, one hand braced on the middle of your back, his other dragging the fabric of your bra down, laving his tongue over your nipple, biting it gently to a firm peak and sealing his lips over it. 
“fuck,” you exhale shakily, gripping the nape of his neck, feeling the way he hardens under your touch, arousal slicking your panties, sticky and wet where you’re pressed against him. 
he deftly unhooks your bra, dragging the straps down until it pools in your lap. he immediately moves to mouth over your other nipple, thumb brushing over the hardened nub that’s already shining with his spit. 
he stands suddenly, bra falling forgotten to the floor as he settles you onto his desk, licking deeper into your mouth as you move to undo his belt, feeling almost frantic with the need to feel him. 
“you’re so gorgeous, darling,” he says against your lips, his own hands unbuttoning your jeans. you manage to pull his belt loose, pushing his jeans and boxers down enough to feel the coarse hair at the base of his cock before he stops you.
“wait a second, love,” he’s gentle as he grasps your wrists. “wanna get yours off first,” he adds. 
you pout — just a little — but acquiesce to his request, tilting your hips enough for him to pull your jeans and underwear down to your ankles. 
“ah. fuck,” he sighs, exasperated, before he kneels down — a little awkwardly, with the state of his own bottoms — to unlace your boots to drop them to the floor, your panties and jeans following soon after. 
“there,” he sighs as he grasps your face for a kiss, and you hum happily against his mouth, gripping him for stability.
“are you sure this isn’t my gift?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, as he drags his mouth to your cheek and then to nip the lobe of your ear. 
he laughs, and it goes right to your core, molten heat trickling down your spine, leaking from your pussy to the desk underneath. 
“i promise,” he says, voice low, pressing a tantalizing kiss to the soft, sensitive skin behind your ear. 
when you open your mouth to reply, he rests two fingers on your bottom lip, almost touching the tip of your tongue. 
he’s asking permission, you realize, so you take his wrist to draw his fingers further into your mouth, closing your lips around his thick fingers, tongue slipping between them and sucking them deeper. 
“that’s a good girl,” he praises, a deep honey drawl that makes you weak. you swallow back a whine. he presses his fingers down against your tongue, and you blink up at him through glassy doe eyes, still grasping his wrist lightly. 
you whimper, when he’s too enchanted with the sight of his fingers deep in your mouth, arousal coating your thighs. glazed eyes turn to you, a hum of approval reverberating in his throat. he slowly withdraws them, your lips glossy with spit. 
his fingers drift down to your cunt, already soaking with need, dragging them lazily through your folds to mix your own spit into the mix. he leans down to kiss you, and you rest your hand on his cheek to keep him close. 
“so wet for me already, darling,” he marvels as he continues to gather your slick on his fingers, moving up to press gently against your clit, rubbing it in slow, soft circles. “think you can take both?” he glides his fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your walls flutter in anticipation. 
you nod eagerly and he leans close to kiss you, licking into the heat of your mouth; at the same time, he sinks both fingers into you, far more gentle that you expected. the stretch catches you off guard, gasping against his lips. he pulls back, a hair’s breadth apart, merely breathing you in as your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of him filling you full. 
“too much?” he murmurs.
“just,” with a shake of your head, you breathe in, moving to grip his neck, nails sinking into his skin. you want to leave your own marks on him. “been awhile,” you admit on the exhale, drawing him back in to kiss, relaxing into his touch while he happily gives into you.
your mouth drags from his, to the corner of his lips, over to his cheek, right where the line of his beard starts to tickle your skin. he's kind, and patient, and so, so good to you. 
“good?” he asks when you rock your hips into his touch, but he doesn’t start moving his fingers until you actually say yes, pressing the word to his cheek like a promise. 
he’s surprisingly delicate with his touch, as he is with everything else when it comes to you, but the filthy sound of your slick and spit fills the air along your quiet noises, choking down your whines and mewls. 
soap would be insufferable if he found out about this. 
“i know it feels good, love,” he says against your lips, his own curled into a smirk — cocky bastard — “you have to keep quiet for me though, yeah?” 
but then his fingers curl and graze the spot inside you that leaves you trembling, head tipping back as your nails dig deeper into the nape of his neck. he continues to rock his fingers against that spot, deadly precision as he takes the opportunity to bite and suck marks onto the column of your throat, the sting of his teeth making you feel delirious with pleasure. 
“fuck, john,” you whine as you draw him close enough to hide your face into the collar of his sweater, the scent of cigars and sex making your head spin, thoughts turning to static. “‘m gonna cum,” you pant against his collar, trying so desperately to keep yourself quiet. 
it’s not going particularly well. 
another few pumps of his fingers, your clit under his thumb, and white hot pleasure pools down your spine. you muffle your moan against him as your legs shake and cum spills over his fingers. he works you through it, soft praises whispered against the crown of your head. 
you’re pliant in his arms, all the tension seeping from your body as he slowly withdraws his fingers. your grab for his wrist, eyes bleary and glossy, feeling the weight of his gaze as you draw his fingers into your mouth, licking your release from him. 
“fuckin’ hell, love,” he grasps your face, tongue pressing into your mouth, “gonna be the death of me.” 
he finally allows you to push his bottoms down enough to free his cock, hard and heavy against his stomach, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. you go to reach for him, eager to touch him just as he touched you, but he captures your wrist and moves to tip you back against the desk.  
you grip the hem of his jumper, something of a pout gracing your lips as you blink up at him, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he takes his own off with far less grace than he did your own, but still has enough sense to try and fold it and place it over yours. 
it is a gift, after all.
“better?” he asks, a chuckle rising as you immediately move to trace over the planes of his chest, nails scratching through the dark hair that litters his body. faint red marks are left in the wake of your touch, all the way down to his hips, a thatch of hair in a line leading down to his length. 
“much,” is your reply as you drag him close to you, nose buried in his throat to smell cigar smoke and sandalwood, the comfort and musk making you keen, impatient for his touch, his kiss, his cock. 
he braces one hand by your hip, caging you against him, and you tilt up enough to lace your legs around his waist, wanting to bury yourself into his veins, wanting to be as close as possible. he takes himself in his other hand, dragging it through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit. 
you whine at him. 
he gives you a soft kiss before moving to kiss your collar, watching as his cock sinks into you — just the tip. he keeps his hold on himself, dragging himself in and out, feeling the way your cunt tries so desperately to draw him deeper. the wet heat makes his breath stutter, tests his patience so he doesn’t sheath himself completely in one sharp thrust, wanting to do this — needing to do this — properly, even if you are fucking in his office instead of his bed. 
“john,” you damn near sob against his temple, lacing one arm around his shoulders, unashamed with how desperate you are to feel all of him. 
he accidentally slips from your heat, and guides himself back, notching the fat head at your entrance, already shiny with your desire. he pushes in slowly, and you gasp and grab at him, head tipping back as your eyes close, never having felt so full before. 
“f-fuck,” you whine, having enough sense to bring your gaze back to watch as he sheathes himself completely inside you, your clit pressing against the dark hairs at the base of his dick. 
“such a good girl for me.” his teeth latch on to the side of your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark, keeping himself still until you mewl out a soft move, please. 
he captures your mouth with his own when he starts thrusting in earnest, swallowing each moan and cry that rises from your throat, wishing the desk wouldn’t squeak so fucking loud, the schlick of his cock pumping in and out of  your soaked pussy making it impossible to focus on anything else.  
he lays you down against the desk, hooking your legs under his arms to press them up by your side, allowing him to push even deeper, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, each a little more brutal than the last. your nails thread through his hair, the strands damp with his sweat, and you bring them down to his shoulders, his arms, digging in sharp to continue leaving your marks all over him. 
“careful now, pet,” he taunts, right in your ear, a shiver going down your spine right to your pussy, clenching tighter around him in response. “only mark me if you’re gonna keep me.” 
you’re breathless as you respond, the pleasure pooling in your gut and spreading throughout like liquid fire — unable to think of anything but him, and the way he touches you, and the way his teeth sink into your neck until you squeal with the sharp, biting pain that he soothes with his tongue. 
“i will, i will,” you say, nails digging in deeper — a show of devotion, of loyalty. “i promise.” 
“my darling girl.” the praise, the possession — it burns you from the inside out. 
“please, please, please,” you beg, so close to the precipice of your second orgasm, pleasure like venom lining your blood. 
“taking my cock so well, love, fuckin’ made for me.” his voice is low, almost a growl, your cum making a thick ring of cream wet the base of him. “you need to cum so badly, don’t you?”
past the point of being able to form words, you cry and nod, tears spilling down your cheeks, overwhelmed, hands moving down to hold him by his waist, too weak to do anything more than lay there and take anything  john gives you. 
“cum on my cock, darling, i want to feel it.” you’d never think he’d have such a filthy mouth, but it’s just enough to snap the coil of pleasure that’s been building. you arch up  into him, his name on your lips, unable to hold back any longer as you shake with the force of it. 
he buries himself to the hilt inside you, feeling the pulses of his cock as thick streams of his cum paint your insides, filling you full. he pants out a jesus christ, pressing his weight down on you, his spend starting to leak from where he’s still buried deep inside you. 
you lay there, comforted by his weight and warmth, the scent of sex and sweat mixing with the ever-present smell of cigar smoke that’s practically embedded into john’s skin. 
after a few minutes of laying there, john presses soft kisses to the column of your throat — over the marks, his marks,  that litter your skin — he pulls out of you slowly. you whine at the loss of him, feeling so empty now without him inside you, burrowed close to your heart. his cum drips from your cunt, gathering on the table below. 
“let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, pulling his own bottoms up and slipping back into his jumper,  walking around the side of the desk — dropping a kiss to your temple — and leaves, coming back only moments later with a washcloth. he wipes you down so gently, a second one dragging over your skin in light strokes to dry you off. 
he helps sit you up, gripping your waist and steadying you before gathering your panties and bottoms. he pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to yours before a smirk paints his lips, tucking your panties into his back pocket and helping you into your jeans. as he gathers something from one of his desk drawers, you wrangle yourself back into your own jumper.    
“so,” he begins, settling back into his chair and patting his lap, which you crawl into eagerly, as your sense of stability and balance have yet to return, pressing yourself close, “close your eyes.” 
you give him a look, though his face gives nothing away. you close your eyes, hearing what sounds like a hinge opening and the sharp snap of a case. his hands go around your throat next, but he doesn’t touch you. he’s quiet for a moment, but then settles his touch back to your waist. 
“alright, darling, open up.” 
you immediately bring your hand to your throat, feeling the delicate chain that’s now laying there. you gently bring it up, looking over the charm in your fingers, before your breath catches in your throat.
 j. 
he smiles at you like you’re the sun, and you cup his cheeks, leaning in close to press multiple kisses to his mouth, sniffling a little while he coos at your reaction. 
“you’re my favorite christmas present.” 
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soap is, indeed, insufferable about it when you finally emerge from the back office. he gives you a shit-eating grin, musing out loud that he should hang mistletoe off john’s belt next. 
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wwinterwitch · 1 year
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right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton
summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!
a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!
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all masterlists | buy me a coffee
You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.
It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.
Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.
And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.
Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.
Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.
Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.
Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.
One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.
"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.
"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."
"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."
"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.
Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"
You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.
Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.
You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.
And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.
It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.
After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.
"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."
"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.
Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.
"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.
He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."
You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.
"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.
"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"
Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.
"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.
Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.
You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.
As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.
Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.
"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.
"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."
"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."
"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.
Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."
"I don't think your apologies are sincere."
"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."
You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."
Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."
"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."
"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?
A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"
He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.
But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.
You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."
With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.
Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.
But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.
This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.
Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.
He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.
Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.
Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.
And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.
At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.
But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.
Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.
"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"
"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.
The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.
Oh, how badly you've missed him.
"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."
You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.
"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."
"My lord, I–"
"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.
You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.
"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"
Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."
Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.
"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."
You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.
"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."
"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.
"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."
"Why not? I've always called you that."
"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."
"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."
"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."
"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"
"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."
"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.
"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"
Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.
In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.
You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.
The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.
"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.
He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.
"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.
"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."
"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.
"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.
You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.
Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.
"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."
"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."
"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.
"Darling–"
"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."
"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."
"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"
"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"
You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."
"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.
You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.
Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."
Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."
He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.
Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.
You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.
As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.
It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.
But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.
"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"
"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."
"Yes, please!"
Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.
Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.
To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.
Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.
Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.
"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.
"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"
You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.
They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.
You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.
Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.
Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.
Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.
"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."
"Thank you, so do you."
Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"
"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.
"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."
"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."
"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."
"What do you mean?"
"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."
"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."
Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."
"I would never do such a thing."
She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."
You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.
She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."
"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.
"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."
"And...you said no?"
"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."
"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.
"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."
"I...Oh my, are you–?"
"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."
Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."
"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."
"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."
"I assure you I love him just as much."
"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."
"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"
"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."
"I shall tell you how it goes then."
"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.
Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.
"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."
"Of course, my lady," was all he said.
"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.
"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.
You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"
"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.
Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.
"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.
"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."
"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."
"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."
He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."
The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.
"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.
"Why?" was all he could say.
"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.
Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.
"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.
You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."
Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.
His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.
The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."
He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."
"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.
"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"
He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."
"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."
You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.
This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.
His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.
"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.
"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."
He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.
But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.
"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."
"And I'd have no complaints about that."
He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."
"We have many years to make amends for that."
"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.
"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."
"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."
You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"
"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."
You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.
"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"
You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."
Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."
You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."
"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."
"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"
"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."
He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.
2K notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 6 months
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Light in the Hallway
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Summary - Everything is finally peaceful in Autumn. Eris is High Lord, y/n is his High Lady, and peace has settled across the Court just in time for the arrival of Eris's firstborn.
Warnings - newborns, mentions of Autumn court expectations, sappy fluf
A/n - I wanted to post this because it's so wholesome. I have one more solstice special, and two more maternity celebration posts after this, but this kind of fulfilled needs today.
Merry Christmas, lovelies.
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You couldn't stop watching him from the doorway. Eris had cried when your son, his heir, was finally here and screaming as he took in air for the first time.
He was currently standing there shirtless with your babe in his cloth nappy and nothing else, holding him skin to skin and cooing him.
"You will never be alone, my kit," Eris whispered. "You will never wonder if we love you, if you are safe, if you are wanted. You will never question my devotion to you." He was swaying slightly, the smallest smile on his face as he looked down at his son.
His son.
The one he'd raise the way a father should. The one he'd teach to hunt, to train a hound once he was of age. The one he had been absolutely, undoubtedly, and unconditionally in love with since you told him.
"My love," you whispered softly. "He needs to sleep in his crib tonight. We promised each other we would not do this."
Eris turned to you, tears lining those amber eyes. “How did I contribute to something so perfect, so innocent?” You walked to him, head resting on his bicep.
Gods was the babe perfect, a tiny tuft of red curls, bright amber eyes full of wonder and joy. “Look at him,” he whispered. “My beautiful son.”
You kissed Eris's arm, “I suppose he could sleep in a bassinet tonight. Be close to us?”
Eris shook his head. You had not had an uninterrupted night since your son's birth a week ago, and the healer had suggested having the babe move to his own room, to hopefully lessen your anxiety and worry that kept you up watching every small breath and movement like a hawk, and to ensure the babe began a sense of independence in the cut throat court that was Autumn.
You had both hated the idea, crying as you discussed it. Wanting what was best for you as the mother, but what was best for your son as future heir. You had already broken so many of Autumn's expectations. Denying a wet nurse and choosing to feed him at your own breasts. Denying a live-in nanny, instead allowing you and Eris control and peace in his care. What was one more expectation? One more boundary?
“What if he thinks we've abandoned him?” You voiced the quiet fear. “What if-” Eris silenced you with a gentle look.
“Take him,” he handed you your son, completion instantly flowing through you as his little eyes lit up more and happy noises came. Eris motioned for you to follow him, shooting looks to the guards who passed silent judgment as you carried your babe back to your own chambers and out of his nursery. When you entered your room, the shift in your son was obvious, his little body relaxed, content small coos came from his mouth, his little eyes began to close softly.
Eris went into the separated bedroom, wheeling his bassinet out. He stopped it by the couch you used to feed him late at night and motioned for you to hand him his son. And how could you deny him? The image of the perfect father, the perfect partner, once again making a compromise.
He placed your babe in the bassinet, lowing the faelights to a soft, barely there glow, and took your hand.
“Small steps,” he comforted you. “Close enough he knows we're here, far enough I wouldn't find you sitting up in our bed rocking him when you should be sleeping.”
You kissed him, moving to your side of the bed, the one furthest from the door left slightly ajar. “And when the guards tell your father's old advisors?”
Eris looked at you, moving so he leaned over you with a completely serious face. “What is best for my wife, my mate, his mother, is best for my babe. Fuck the guards, fuck expectations, fuck my rotting father and his advisors. They will be gone soon enough. We both would not have slept a second with him that far away.” You felt his magic summon, and then a soft melody playing in the room your son was settling in. “Go to sleep, my fox. I will get up with him. If he needs food, I will wake you. Let me carry part of the load tonight.”
You nodded, kissing him. “The best daddy.”
He smiled down at you, those tears coming back to his eyes, “The best mommy,” he complimented you. “Go to sleep, my love.”
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Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)
I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?
Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.
Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.
Here was my two cents contribution:
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"No, what they said was factual.
Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?
Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.
In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.
He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.
Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.
But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.
Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.
But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.
In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.
I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.
In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.
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But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.
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Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.
At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .
During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."
He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.
So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt
P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.
LLAP!🖖💚
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