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#now that is a sound i do not hear on a daily basis and could not explain
ahalliance · 11 months
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as much as i am a boogara i do not think the average american ghosthunter could manage living in a 100 year+ old european house with the amount of weird cracks and wood settling and pipes clanging i hear on a daily basis
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 03:12 A.M 」
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tw: pregnancy. just a little something based on ask~ gojo annoys you on daily basis, so now you return the favor and he can't refuse it bc you're his baby mama😋
a part of gojo's love entries
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“satoru— your baby is hungry,” you pouted, poking his cheek repeatedly. “sa-to-ru!!”
it was 3 in the morning, and ideally, you would have been sleeping... only that suddenly you were awoken by rumbles from your growing belly.
yet your husband was still sound asleep without any care in the world, prompting you to poke him until you succeeded in making him hear you out.
satoru begrudgingly cracked his eyes open, still having his face tucked under the blanket and yawning. “ngh, sweets… what is it?”
his sleepy voice was thick, low and raspy. usually you’d swoon and leave a hickey or two on his neck but not now, as the overwhelming hunger made you almost curl.
“baby is craving mochi,” you said, eyes shining up to him ever so innocently. “get it for me, satoruuu.”
“oh?” if he wasn’t awake before, now he was after hearing your nagging tone drawling his name. he faced you and drew you closer. “what do you want again, hmm?”
“ice cream mochi!!”
“oooh that.” satoru scratched his head at the memory of him eating the last of it yesterday. “but we ran out of them, sweetheart… wait till morning, yeah? i’ll go to market to get some.”
“but...”
“can’t baby wait a few more hours, hmm?”
“no! want it— now!”
satoru blinked at your insistence. you looked positively adorable while sulking at him too.
“why mochi all of sudden, huh?” he decided to humor you. “you used to say they taste bland.”
“that’s because of your sperm infecting me,” you sullenly accused. “and don’t pretend you haven’t been feeding me mochi for weeks. baby likes it more than i thought.”
“hey! don’t bash my sperm! they did no wrong and completed the deed splendidly!”
“you’re just a one-time donor, don’t be smug.”
he whined and you huffed, before suddenly your stomach grumbled loudly and you curled up. “mmhm.”
“hey… what’s wrong?” satoru quickly sat up and placed his hand on your baby bump. “really hungry? wait, i’ll get you something to nibble on first.”
he rummaged through his work uniform and found several bite-sized chocolate bars he brought around, and unwrapped the foil. “here.”
you immediately devoured the treat to sate your hunger, but still, your baby longed for more—
“mochi…” you mumbled despondently, your expression turning heartbroken. and one second later satoru realized how much he wanted to squeeze your cheeks, and relented.
“okay, okay, sweets~” he gave your head several comforting pats, making you look up. “i’ll go and get the mochi, yeah? you stay put and wait for me, 'kay?”
“yay.” a little smile bloomed in your face and satoru chuckled, finding you so unbearably endearing.
and so, for you, he ventured out to the closest 24-hour convenience store, picking up some ice cream mochi along with other treats to replenish your stock, before teleporting back home.
he was expecting that you'd still be all sulky while waiting for him, but instead, he found you peacefully asleep, hogging his pillow.
each breath that caused your chest to rise and fall made you appear all the more vulnerable and soft in his eyes.
you looked so irrevocably precious to him. his sweet little wife... in that moment, satoru felt like he was the luckiest man alive, getting to have you as his.
“you naughty girl.” he let out an amused laugh before reclaiming his spot next to you. the hold you had over him— you made him go through the cold night air, and now you were monopolizing his pillow and he had to resume sleeping without one at all.
and yet all he could feel was love. for you and your baby, as he pulled you close to his chest.
“both of you sure love teaming up against me, huh?”
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justporo · 5 months
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Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!
I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!
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It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.
But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.
Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.
Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!
But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.
And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.
“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.
“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.
But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”
You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.
“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.
Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.
“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”
“You think I'm funny, my love.”
“It also isn't as full of itself.”
A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.
“My heart, you hurt me.”
“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”
The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”
“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”
A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.
“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.
But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.
After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-
“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”
You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.
There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.
“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”
“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”
“Ah, so you agree with that too.”
You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.
Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.
“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.
Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.
As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.
With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.
And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.
When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.
With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.
“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.
Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.
Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06
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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍
SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 tries to be a better man but others seemed to be testing his limits. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. blood, description of wounds, violence, cussing, smoking, possesive behaviour, reader is called darling
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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"I hate bastards like you." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 breathed out under his nose and despite being physically active for the past hours. He turned around on the squeaking, old chair he was occupying and calmly took out his silver and amber cigarette case from one of his coat’s pockets which was hanging from the back of the furniture. Now with his possessions at hand, he returned to his previous position. "Ya want one?" 
The man messily sprawled on a wooden floor could only whine pathetically like a little baby.
"Alright." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 shrugged, taking the whine as ‘no’. Without any care in the world, he himself took one of the cigarettes from the rectangle case. He furrowed his thick eyebrows as he lit it up using his trusty lighter. "Like I've said...where was I?"
Silence fell on the dingy room like a thick blanket, choking everyone with its density, except the one who caused it in the first place. 
"Ah! Right!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 facepalmed, shaking his head in disbelief that he forgot what he was talking about in the first place. "I absolutely HATE bastards like you."
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 leaned down, his fitting shirt accenting his lean and tense body, to tightly grasp his victim's hair in his iron grip and harshly brought the idiot up to be face to face with him. The man screamed painfully, choking on his blood that kept pouring from his mouth and nose. One of his eyes began to turn black and was tightly shut from how puffy it had become. The rest of his body wasn’t in any better shape.
"The ones that lure in a place where they don't belong. The ones who believe they have a chance with someone who is clearly taken. But most importantly, the ones who dare to ignore me."
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 continued his speech like he wasn’t talking to a man beaten half to death. He deeply breathed in his cigarette and after holding it in for a few seconds, he blew toxic smoke right in this man's face, watching with satisfaction him fall into a coughing fit. The victim winced and began to cry, mainly because of his broken ribs. "I was so generous and took my precious time to politely inform you to stay away from my darlin'. I remeber explicitly advising you to search for a good fuck somewhere else. Right?"
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 harshly patted the bruised and bloody cheek of the said man after noticing him falling unconscious. The man gasped and cried harder, weakly nodding.
"Right! And what did you do?" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 took a deep breath from his cigarette, gritting his teeth in rage. "Like a swine decided you know better than me and went for it! You...you fucking bastard..." He began panting and letting this powerful emotion take control over his whole being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help but begin to laugh like he heard the best joke. It sounded so houting, echoing in the small room which the victim occupied on a daily basis.
"You bastard fucked with a wrong darlin'." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 summed it up and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Then he took another deep inhale of his cigarette, before taking it out of his mouth since it was almost burnt out completely. He flexed his aching jaw and gripped the man's hair tighter, satisfied to be hearing his high pitched whine. "MY darlin'."
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 didn’t hesitate to bring the still burning cigarette to the man's forehead and put it out there. The man screamed but didn't trashed much. He didn't have any strength in him to do so anymore.
"And I won’t tolerate it."
And he didn't.
“What happened to your hands?” You asked the very next day and carefully took them in yours. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basked in your attention, especially loving skin to skin contact initiated by you. 
“Ah, it’s nothin’, really.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 laughed it off and took this chance to burn the image of your concerned face in his memory. You looked so adorable. So gullible…
“You don’t need to worry your pretty head over this, darlin’.”
“But – !”
“Ah!” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 tutted, cutting you off and moved his aching and bruised hands to take yours instead. He squeezed them affectionately, looking lovingly into your eyes. “How about we go to buy that clothes we saw yesterday? You looked so darling in them!”
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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2-dsimp · 1 month
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I remember hearing from bird owners on the internet never to pet a bird's wings and back due to it arousing the bird, so many bird owners say to just pet their heads.
So, if someone where to "accidentally" brush past a certain Harpy's wings and lower back, or to playfully mess with the feathers a bit, how would said harpy react?
Love to mess with others and want to rile up Lynx a bit heh
Cw: Fem! Reader, NSFW🔞 creampie, knotting, praise, Lynx being a horny birb, overestimation, cum inflation, breeding, exhibition, use of public toilet stall, possessive/obsessive tendencies. Slight degradation.
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Synopsis: You decided it would be a good idea to figuratively and literally ruffle the harpy’s feathers and you ended up getting more of a reaction than you bargained for.
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. .。.:*☆☆*:.。. .。.:
"My muse~ you know how I can’t bear to resist you on a daily basis.”
The harpy scolded, his voice low and husky with desire. Using his clawed hands to cover your lips in order for your explicit sounds not to escape the bathroom stall y’all were currently boxed inside of.
“So Why would you do that when I was just about to be handed my Grammy?"
The singer could feel himself getting closer, his own pleasure building up inside of him as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. He struggled to hold on, gritting his teeth as he tried to savor the five minutes. That he so desperately asked for, just to momentarily hold off on accepting his trophy for having the best selling album.
Using the excuse that he needed to use the bathroom to get rid of his cold feet. When in reality the moment you ruffled his sensitive feathers. Lynx damned near almost snatched you up and fucked you on stage. But thinking about his managers pleas on not causing havoc. The birdman instead hustled you into the nearest bathroom stall.
“You must’ve done this on purpose. Did you really want me to give you my knot that badly baby?"
He panted, relishing in the harsh wet smacks of his balls against your plump ass. His long lashes fluttered shut as he humped you frantically knowing that time was running out. Twitching sporadically as his fleshy pointed cock. Kept spurting out copious amounts of clear precum which continually fattened you up.
"Fuck! You’re sucha bad girl, getting me all worked up. I can feel your juices splashing on my knot, such a dirty chicky you are~”
The Harpy no doubt felt his impending orgasm threatening to burst from his leaking dick. like a pressurized dam, his family jewels throbbing to unload his hot jizz inside of you. As he felt you squirting on his meaty rod that was hitting all your weak spots.
"Imma stuff you up with so much cum, that your gonna leave a snail trail wherever you go. That way people will know that you’re taken."
Lynx trilled melodically, his tail feathers swishing as his plumaged fluffed up from the sensation of your cunt clenched down on his length that was bullying its way against your womb.
“You’d like that right? My pretty mate? Of course you would!”
He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck biting and licking at the sweat dripping from your skin. Not even taking not of how you were crying fat tears of overstimulation from being stuffed to the brim with his growing knot lodged inside your clammy walls. His shaft still fucking itself into your weeping quim as he prepared to let go. Since it was almost time for him to get back stage and accept his reward ceremony.
“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you more later on, so for now just open up that cute womb of yours so I can flood it with my hatchlings yeah?”
With a bodily shudder racking through him he pressed his body flush against you. His wings hugging you within a protective cocoon. Whilst he released his hot harpy sperm deep inside of you, filling you up completely with his seed. He let out a breathy, guttural keen of exhilaration as he continued to ride his high inside of you, his knot still expanding in depth within your pussy as he proceeded to ground himself empty completely inside of you.
"Mmm, you feel s-so good, my muse… You think I can squeeze in one more load inside of your pretty pussy?"
Lynx drawled out , his voice scratchy and needy as he slowed down his movements. The Harpy stayed inside of you, his cock still twitching as he enjoyed the feeling of being buried deep inside of you. From hearing your small moans in response his penis already returned to half mast eager to fuck another batch of his baby batter inside you.
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abbyshands · 3 months
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abby drabbles for vday <3
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a/n; hey, all, happy valentine’s :) i was originally gonna have a fic for this but i was only able to do a few drabbles today &&& i don’t like any of them but it’s fine. also, woeeefully i have carpal tunnel, so with that and me needing to focus more on speaking out on palestine, fics will be more inconsistent (dw btw i am very much fine, just need to rest my hands <3 [which i obv did not do when i wrote all of these so quickly!])
♡ INCLUDES: sub!cam girl!abby bench pressing w/a vibe between her legs, dom!rival prosecutor!abby fucking you in her office, sub!football abby x dom!nerdy!reader
P.S.; please keep in mind that palestine is very much still bleeding. please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don't stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking, demanding you to take the side that i'm on. free 🇵🇸, always.
LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help I places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more
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a/n; ib by this post! <3
♡ imagine cam girl!abby, 185 pound barbell in her veiny hands as she pumps the load up and down, muscles flexing under the pressure. her face is red, body slick with sweat as her figure caves. you’re looking at her from the end of the bench, poised between her legs as you watch her workout. you crank the setting of the vibrator up for a third time, feeling your own heat build up as you listen to her whine and whimper. “come on, baby. just a few more reps for me, you got it,” you coo, knowing how close she is, hands weakening as the pleasure bubbling up in her core battles to take control. her filming camera’s in your hands, the one she used to go live and make videos with on a daily basis. you pan it to the wet spot that’s visible on her gym shorts, the smirk on your lips widening as the view nearly makes you drool. “look at her. so pretty like this, such a desperate girl,” you whisper more to yourself than to abby, earning a whorish whine from her lips as she pushes the bar above her head again and again. “mmm, s’that feel good, baby?” you coo as you bring a finger up to rub her over her soaked bottoms. abby’s face scrunches as she throws you a bit of an attitude. “y- you know it does,” she nearly snapped at you, and you can’t help but laugh. “hear that? she’s getting bratty with me,” you say, making sure to zoom in on her shaking legs as you give her thigh a small slap, earning a yelp from abby. you know full well her fans are going to go wild for this video, perhaps even more than you. when abby finishes her reps, body too weak to go on, you prop the camera up beside yourselves and place your hands on the sides of abby’s thighs. “good girl. did so well for me, didn’t you?” you ask, the only other noise being the buzzing of the vibe and the sound of abby’s little whimpers. “y- yes, ma’am, i did. n- now please let me cum,” she begs, and you feel merciful. you crank the vibe to the highest setting, and apply more pressure to her pussy with your fingers. you thumb her clit in circles, and watch as abby’s abdomen begins to tense. you push her shorts out of the way for better access, and remove the vibe to pump your index and ring into her soaked pussy, fingering her like a fucking pro. “f- fuck, so close, please, don’t stop,” she whines, and it’s not long before you’ve got the cam girl drenching your fingers in her cum, hips bucking for both you and the camera as it captures every little second <3
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♡ imagine rival prosecutor!abby, who you just won a huge case to, grabbing you by the wrist the second she could, and yanking you into her office. she was bending you over her desk at a rapid speed like she had so many times in the past, forcing you to take the seven inch strap that’s considerably a part of her at this point. “fucking whore. always fucking up my cases. let me show you how that, fuck,” she says as she thrust into you, deep, “fucking feels.” you only get to feel her when you make her lose a case, being the only way she can properly get her anger out. sometimes, you almost want to lose your cases on purpose. “well, maybe you should do your job better,” you challenge her, and, god, she does not like that. she grabs you by the neck as she pounds into you from behind, thick fingers digging marks into your skin. “don’t talk to me like that,” abby remarks as she pushes herself as deep inside you as she can possibly go. she’s so down and dirty with you, using your body like a toy, then discarding you until the next time she loses a case. “f- fuck, a- abby,” she’s got you stuttering soon enough, brain foggy with your own arousal. abby quickens her pace the second she can feel you getting closer to your high, chuckling. “yeah, you like that, huh? get so cockdrunk off this dick every time,” abby grunted. when your moans get too loud to the point where she thinks you’ll make the whole office hear, her large hand covers your lips, muffling those sweet, little noises. “shhh, shhh, baby. you’re my whore, mine alone. don’t want anyone else to hear those cute moans of yours,” she teases. soon enough, she’s got you soaking her cock in your cum, a whiny mewl of her name muffled by the hold she has on your lips. once you’re finished, she very briefly cleaned you up. but then, once she was done, negligence. “abby—“ you begin, ready to beg her for a little more of her attention. but she cuts you short. “none of that. you know this, sweetheart. i’ll fuck you when i lose.”
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a/n; very much inspired by this :3
♡ imagine sub!football!abby (x nerdy!reader) winning the last game of her season. there’s an after party, of course there is, but the buff girl who’s dominant in every aspect of her life, almost, can’t resist spending some time with her girlfriend first. “yeah, honey. played so well for me, didn’t you?” you coo as abby grinds her pussy desperately into your body, your hands digging into her hips. abby’s gorgeous nipples are bouncing up and down before you, perfect, and you make sure to take one of them into your mouth whenever one’s close enough to your face. “mmm, f- fuck, i did, baby, i did,” she moans, voice needy as she thrusts her naked body into your own. the friction she feels from the denim material of your jeans drives her crazy, rubbing up on her clit in the best way possible. your glasses fog up each time you pull her down for a sloppy, wet kiss, tongue dancing with hers as she grinds her pussy into you, desperate. “such a good girl. that’s it, reward yourself, baby,” you encourage her as she goes on, rutting herself into you. she moans as your pants brush up on her clit, burying her face into your neck to bite it, stifling the whiny moans falling from her lips. your hands grab her ass, gripping it as she pushes herself against you as hard as she could. “f- fuck, i love you so much, love you so much,” abby lets out in a whiny moan, easily making you smile. when you’ve got her on the brink, you take one of her breasts into your mouth, tongue swirling skillfully around her nipple. you give her a few small slaps on the ass as she chases her high, cumming all over your jeans in the end. you smile as you cup her reddened cheek, kissing the tip of her nose as she panted out heavily above you. “there’s my football star.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
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wonysugar · 3 months
Note
i beg you write playing with karinas boobs please please please
now... karina being the most likely to enjoy getting her boobs played with in aespa let's talk about it!! btw reader is the 5th member of aespa :] also karina has an unnie kink i don't make the rules
it doesn’t come as a shock to anyone to say that karina has pretty big tits, like let's all be real for a second wbk. she's obviously very aware of it too, and isn't at all afraid to wear revealing clothes and such, she wants to flaunt that gorgeous body of hers as much as possible and tbh? as she should! you could even go to the extent of saying that she's pretty much obsessed with herself with how much cleavage she shows on a daily basis.
even when she's fingers deep into herself, her other hand tends to fixate on her chest area the most, groping and gently pulling at her nipple as she quietly moans into her own pillow.
no seriously, she would die for her own tits you do not get it.
so, hearing the other girls compliment her innocently in regards to that? oh it brings her a feeling that can't even be described with words. especially when the one giving the compliments is none other than y/n.
she knew y/n liked staring at them, whether it was in public or not. at an interview, an award show, a livestream? it truly did not matter. she stares at them whenever and wherever, and karina's aware of it. she likes it, even; it brings her a sense of... superiority, observing how the other girl looks at her, with such admiration, such curiosity. it drove her insane. y/n could say something as trivial as "jimin unnie i'm so jealous, how do they sit so well?" and it would get said girl inexplicably riled up. no seriously, the honorific does things to her every time.
so when karina has the opportunity to be alone in the dorms with y/n? oh she makes sure to very quickly take it. doing things like wearing extra tight clothes (sometimes barely any lol), not wearing a bra, etc. she takes this shit very seriously and is absolutely set on making y/n worship her tits!
now of course, the latter isn't stupid. she catches on pretty quickly that karina is practically in heat for her, and who is she to not give her unnie what she wants?
bumping into karina and groping her 'by mistake' before noticing how the older girl blushes at the situation, her breathing getting slightly heavier. seeing that, y/n starts teasing her about it! (well yess as you do, of course)
"oh, i didn't know you were like that, jimin unnie.. what a pervert. you wanted me to do that, didn't you?"
AND THEN SHE NODSSS?? it's quite literally over for her, there's a pool growing in between her legs already, she's getting hotter by the second and you're blatantly staring at her chest right in front of her. what else is she supposed to do in this situation?
satisfied with her unspoken answer, it doesn’t take long for y/n to slide her hands up the other girl’s shirt and… oh well would you look at that she isn’t even wearing a bra! but then again, after hearing karina repeatedly whisper something along the lines of “please touch me.”, she kinda figured that the older member wouldn’t waste time in putting on something as useless as a bra.
at this point?? her shirt is OFF, her bra is ACROSS THE ROOM, and she’s sitting on the couch getting marked up BY HER FELLOW MEMBER.
this is all she could’ve ever wanted, of course, the only thing that would possibly made it better would be to have the rest of the girls watch and potentially even join in, but that was unfortunately reserved for another day. for now? karina was perfectly content with being groped by her dearest member.
y/n, on her end of things, is in a whole completely world! (what a loser LOLLL amirite) seemingly put into a trance by the sight of her leader’s bare tits before her, “fuck unnie, they’re so.. so pretty.. and so soft.” as her fingers gently trace around her nipples, grazing her thumb against one of them. and the sounds karina let out in response to that? music to her fucking ears.
y/n wanted to make her scream. and she might’ve, with how each one was louder than the previous at every movement she made.
but she wanted it louder.
she wanted to make her leader feel good.
so, with no warning whatsoever, she settles her mouth right on one of karina’s nipples, sucking at it gently whilst still groping and massaging the other, the girl’s moans fueling her to continue roaming her tongue all over, sloppier and messier with each second that passes.
“mmh— y/n… t-that’s right, make your u-unnie feel good baby—“ is what karina says as she rubbing the back of y/n’s head and looking down at her. the sight of her closing her eyes, licking and sucking on her boobs like this… making such a mess… practically drooling on them while also gently twisting and playing with the other nipple… it all felt too good. and to top it all off? being praised for her undeniably smoking hot body as she’s getting her tits marked up all prettily?
it wouldn’t be completely insane to say that she cums just from that alone.. right?
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saturnicos · 3 months
Note
Hi! Can you make a Hazbin Hotel Headcanons of how the characters would comfort a reader who is having a panic attack.
Yeah! Ironically, I had a pre-episode panic attack during a class today, writing this helped me avoid a meltdown.
Of course, if you wanted into a different perspective (or other characters, since I don't write many at once), feel free to tell me :)
HH cast comforting !reader having a panic attack
With: Charlie, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust
Context: Panic attack can happen any time, without any motivation. Unfortunately, that's hits you more often than you would like. In a middle of a conversation with them, you start to feel anxious and afraid, eyes widening and an immense desire to cry appearing. How would them comfort you?
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. Charlie
— Oh! And I created a new plan that I would lik.. — Charlie interrupts herself as soon as she sees his eyes roaming the room, your leg shaking while the sound of your heartbeat was heard loud enough.
She knows that happens with some frequency and often is ready when happen. Actually, she's a bit imperative and has its moments of generalized anxiety; although it's not the same thing, it has a basis of what she can or cannot do to help you.
— Honey, look at me, please — She ask to you, holding your hand and looking at your eyes with a serious expression in her face. — It's ok, you'll be fine, you're safe with me. Now, breathe in and out with me.
She starts as an example, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing the air through her mouth. Despite your mind clouded with fear and derealization, your eyes locked onto hers, unconsciously repeating what exercise she replicates, feeling your breathing regularize slowly, despite the tremor and fear continuing.
She smile at you, holding your hand with a little more strength and delicacy. She moves forward with her free arm at her side, asking for permission for a hug. You, without hesitation, allow it, approaching her and hugging her tightly, feeling her face resting above your head, allowing you to cry into her coat if you felt like you needed to.
— Don't forget to breath, it'll calm yourself. I'm here for you.
. Lucifer
He knows what gonna happen even before you. This man faces various emotional and psychological problems daily, he recognizes very well when someone seems to have a tendency to have a crisis. Especially coming from you.
The first thing he notices is your hand starting to shake and your eyes threatening to water. He's quick to cup your face with both hands, making sure you're looking and listening to him.
— Sweetie, hear me. — He asks in a gently voice, making sure not to get too close to you for fear that this would only trigger a sudden worsening of the attack. — Calm down, I'm with you, there's anything here that can hurt you.
Even with his supportive phrases, your tremor only got worse as your blood pressure only tended to drop, slowly obscuring your vision and slowing down your breathing.
— Here — His voice echoed in your mind, as if partially clearing the intrusive and distressing thoughts. An angelic voice. — Can you tell me five things in this room, please?
You didn't know from where this come, but tried to see something even with a bad vision. And you did it. Then he asked for four things that you could touch. After three that you could hear, after...
When you came to, out of the derealization, you noticed the tactic that he used to calm you down: 5-4-3-2-1, a way to distract the mind of fear to understand what was around you, consequently making you come to your senses when you noticed the space.
He also noticed as your breathing returned to normal and your body gradually shook less and less, smiling at you tenderly.
. Adam
He's a bitch. A fucking bitch.
At first, when he sees your eyes watering in the middle of the conversation he will think that some comment or joke of his got to you, and sincerely? He'd probably find it funny that you're bothered by this at this point.
— What's up, bitch? That wasn't even that aggressive — He responded in a mocking voice, leaning across the table toward you. His tone of voice was filled with a visible desire to laugh.
However, when he noticed that you ignored his comment and were shaking unnaturally, the expression on his mask changed to one that alternated between doubt and amazement.
The mask's mouth constantly opened and closed, as if he were interrupting whenever he thought about commenting on something.
— Fuck — He sighed heavily as he let out an audible curse, getting up from his seat and heading towards him, but stopped next to you when he noticed that he was a piece of shit with emotional comfort, especially with words of affirmation.
With an expression of uncertain, he took off his terminator mask and threw it on the table, looking at the office door, confirming that there was no one there that could burst into the room.
He then crouched down next to you, watching you cover your face with hands shaking, stifling a sob. Not really sure what do, he brought his hand to your back, patting it friendly as a strange way of showing support, since 1. he didn't know how to verbalize it and 2. he couldn't do it. But deep down he would like to try and provide some kind of support.
— I have no fucking idea how to help you, but... You know, if you need a shoulder, you've got me.
. Angel Dust
He knows what it's like to have an emotional breakdown and derealization, after all, it is something that constantly impacts him almost always after the work.
Despite the solution he always seeks for himself be the use of medication and perhaps a little alcohol, he would never make that an option for you since he doesn't want to inflict drug use on you. Health reason.
— Baby, is a hug okay? — he asks you in a compassionate tone, bowing his head slightly to the side as he raised his left hand to rest it on your shoulder.
When you nod, he wraps you in a hug with all four of his arms. A comfortable but not strong hug, allowing you to leave if you wish.
— You need to stabilize your heart rate, you know? Do what I do — He then took a deep breath for a few seconds and then let it out, repeating the process two more times before encouraging you to try.
You snuggled into your spot on the couch trying to control the shaking and tears as you repeated breathing exercise with difficulty. At first it was painful and burned your lungs, but Angel advised you to try again as soon as you felt like you could try.
— I don't have work today, how about a movie? I promise it won't be any of my big movies, your choice. — He laughed quietly, trying to lighten the sad mood with a light dirty joke as he picked up the controller. When he could hear a low chuckle from you, his smile grew.
. Alastor
He literally has no idea what happened to you. Alastor died before psychology studies were taken seriously, and particularly he was never someone very social or interpersonal, then see you having a mental imbalance suddenly was ridiculously weird.
He just stood there looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, trying to find some logic behind your attitude so that he could do something about it.
After a given moment thinking, in a snap of his fingers he manifested a tea set in the center table in the room. However, the withering smell of coffee took its place when he took one of the cups for himself and offered another one for you - one that smelled like valerian, a plant that helped with irregular heartbeat.
He looked at you as he sipped his own cup of black coffee with legs crossed, as if waiting for you to go ahead and drink the tea.
You then gave in and drank, pouring a few drops into your lap due to tremor. The tea actually wasn't that bad. As soon as he passed by your throat, the effect seemed to have already begun, gradually relaxing your muscles and calming your fear.
Along with the feeling of relaxation, an aroma of oils penetrated the room, making a combination in the air of more diverse aromas and smells in a pleasant mix.
By your side, Alastor beamed a satisfied smile as he helped himself to more coffee, talking to you again, occasionally asking if you wanted more tea or if you felt okay.
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I love sm write comfort, but thinking about the angst before is painfully sad//
Thank you for read, have a good day or a good night :)
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 10 months
Text
Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)
Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.
This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!
Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・
The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.
Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.
You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.
Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”
Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—
“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”
Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”
You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.
As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—
“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”
You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.
His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”
“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”
He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”
You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.
“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.
Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”
You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.
Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.
Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.
You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.
Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.
“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”
“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”
“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”
You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”
A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.
“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.
Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”
“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.
But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”
You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.
He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.
How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—
And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”
“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”
Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.
He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”
Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”
“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”
You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”
You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.
You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”
The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.
The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.
It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.
And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”
You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”
That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.
You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.
He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.
“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”
You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”
And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.
Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.
He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.
“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”
“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”
Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.
And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.
“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.
“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..
You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”
Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.
A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.
And feast, he did.
His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.
“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.
And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.
“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”
“Stop talking and make me—oh.”
Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.
“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”
You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.
“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”
Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.
It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.
And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.
As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.
And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.
Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.
You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.
Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.
You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.
“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”
You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.
“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.
You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—
Y/N. I need you back here.
Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.
Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.
Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.
You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”
He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”
“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”
“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”
It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”
“How convenient.”
Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.
But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.
“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”
“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”
“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”
He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.
And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”
You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”
You winnowed out of there before he could respond.
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mikamuse · 5 months
Text
2:13 AM — GOJO SATORU
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it’s not like you wanted to be like this.
constantly coming to satoru for comfort. it’s not like you want to be crying in your bed, currently trying to keep your sobs quiet as not to alert satoru, who is in the other room, to your plight. he had other bigger things to deal with that didn’t include comforting you after having a bad day. you wouldn’t even call it a bad day. it was just a few unfortunate incidents that happened through out the day.
things that are minor compared to the strongest having to deal with curses, training his students, etc. it’s not like he would get annoyed at you. satoru would drop everyone and everything in an instant if you called. if it were someone else, he would’ve laughed but with you—he wrapped you up in his arms, smother you in kisses, and ask you what happened.
he’d do anything to cheer you up. to see that smile that he adored. the shy little smile you would give him while attempting to evade his kisses. he’d tell you some stupid joke to get you laugh. satoru adores your laugh. he adores the way your eyes crinkle. he adores the sound of your laughter. if you didn’t want to talk, he’d just hold you until you were ready to talk.
the sound of your muffled cries drowned out the sound of your bedroom door opening and closing. you don’t notice his presence in your room until you feel the bed dip. a hand gently turns you towards him.
“what’s the matter, sweetheart?” a soft voice calls out. you sniffle as you try to turn away from him. you didn’t want him to see you like this. it’s stupid to cry over these things. satoru frowns—cupping your chin turning your head towards him, “hey what’s wrong? someone bully you? you accidentally hurt yourself again?”
you shake you head at him, “‘s nothing.” he tilts his head at you, giving you look that said, ‘is it really nothing?’ it really was nothing compared to the shit he deals with on a daily basis.
“alright, c’mere” he sighs before leaning over you, wrapping an arm around your waist, “you don’t have to hide in here, ya know? you could always come to me. i love holding you—with and without a reason to.”
“i’d rather not bother you with minors issues…” you mumble, tracing shapes into his arm. satoru looks down at you, shock written on his face.
“minor issues?! baby if it’s upsetting you, i’d say it’s a major one! come on, lay it on me! it’s nothing i can’t handle, i am the strongest for a reason.” he winks.
“it was just a few mishap that just kept pilling up all day… it’s nothing really, satoru” you pout, looking away. “‘s not really a big deal.”
“it is too me!” satoru whines. “i don’t like it when you’re upset. it makes me upset!”
the sight of his pout makes you laugh a little. he smiles when he hears your laugh.
“there it is. that laugh that i love so much!” satoru brushing his hands against your sides forcing another laugh out of you. “feelin’ better now?”
“hmm a little… maybe a kiss would me me feel even better…” he grins before swooping down to press a kiss to your forehead, to the corner of your eyes, to your nose, and finally to your waiting lips, whispering an ‘i love you’ in between pecks.
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this is very self-indulgent bc it been a rough few days 😞 i just wanna be wrapped up in his big, beefy arms and kissed by him 24/7 <333 i miss you pookie 💔
©️MIKAMUSE
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withleeknow · 8 days
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minho and https://open.spotify.com/track/4gAIUEY7VkeiKQOPwIYaYb?si=oZNdDS-aTUm9V7bEycscDQ 🩷🩷
flower.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, a teeny bit angsty?; minho's pov word count: 0.7k note: i am very sorry if this is bad i wrote most of this while half asleep so please forgive me kshdkfhsk
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi
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one day if a flower blooms in your heart would you be able to understand me?
Flower - DANIEL
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minho has been up for a while now, just lying here with you as you snuggle close to him like you can't help but gravitate toward him even in your sleep. one of his hands slips under your shirt where he gently traces the smooth skin of your waist, careful not to rouse you from slumber.
he fails though. maybe a particular swipe of thumb over your body was too ticklish.
"you're so warm."
the words come out a little slurred, a little muffled from where your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, safe and sound on this chilly saturday morning. you stir awake for long enough just to say that, and before he knows it, you're off to dreamland once more, from where you probably won't return for at least another hour or so.
minho halts instantly. you're none the wiser, still sleeping peacefully with your soft breaths fanning his collarbones.
cold, mean, unwelcoming, standoffish, callous. you could name any synonym of these words and he's probably been called that before, by friends and by strangers alike. some of them didn't utter it with malicious intent, but rather it was only a passing comment said in a teasing manner, with a lightheartedness that they didn't think he would mind because, well, apparently he just didn't have enough heart to take it as anything other than a joke.
he's used to it, he's gotten numb to it. somewhere along the way, minho accepted that maybe his name is merely one of those synonyms. it's fine, it doesn't matter. he doesn't really mind it because at the end of the day, none of these people could ever be you.
you're the only person whose opinion he cares about. when all is said and done, he doesn't care if the rest of the world thinks cold and heartless, as long as you know who he is. you're the only thing that matters; everything else just simply... falls away.
he's always struggled with opening up, even if the person on the receiving end is you. it doesn't come naturally to him at all. minho was never raised to be openly affectionate, and it just isn't an inherent trait that he possesses. he's not the kind of guy that tells you he loves you every hour of every day, nor is he the type to smother you with gifts and kisses and grand gestures on a daily basis.
no, minho's love comes quietly, rooted in almost every mundane aspect of life that it's often easy to miss if you don't know where to look. his love comes in the form of packed lunches and home-cooked dinners, of a blanket draped over your form after you've fallen asleep at your desk while working on a project for work. of his hand holding tightly onto yours when you get overwhelmed in crowded places. of his eyes always looking at you as though you're the eighth wonder of the world and he'll never get tired of being mesmerized by you. of texts asking if you've eaten. of sporadic videos of soondoongdori simply sleeping or munching on treats, accompanied by no other message or explanation.
there's a million ways that minho cares for you; he doesn't have to shout it from the rooftops for you to know. you do know, and that's enough for the both of you.
but it's not until you uttered those simple words just now that minho realizes how much he needed to hear them out loud. he's well aware that you didn't mean it like that. you meant it quite literally, because sometimes he does run hot and you've always loved that. your personal human furnace to keep you nice and toasty whenever you wanted. he knows it and yet, he still lets the words wiggle their way inside his ribcage and make a home there. they settle somewhere beside his heart and mend something in him that he didn't notice was cracked and chipped, worn away after years and years of people telling him he was callous.
minho isn't sure how long he's been holding his breath, but the very second he inhales again, everything feels lighter, like he's finally leaving behind some of the weight that he's been carrying with him his whole life.
his fingers resume their ministrations on your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. he holds you a little tighter, and everything feels like it's going to be okay.
even in your half-asleep state with your mind completely elsewhere, you still manage to take his breath away. maybe you really are the eighth wonder of the world after all.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 19.05.2024]
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coffe-and-tea-time · 29 days
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𓆩♡𓆪 「better that sleeping pills」 𓆩♡𓆪
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Hi! Coffee being delusional speaking! This time I was wondering
How did you deal with your sleep problems, dear?
TW: stalking, yandere behavior, delusions, insomniac reader, sleeping pills mention, somewhat willing reader, light paranoia?
Yet again another night dealing with insomnia, being told over and over that you should stop using the phone at night and, instead, pretend to sleep, that eventually dreamland will come to you like that. People that don't know what it is to be alone with thoughts and exasperation. But once again, you try to do so, hoping that maybe this time it would actually help.
tik tok tik tok tik tok
How much time has passed? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? You try to keep your mind on blank but it's impossible at some point.
An unexpected sound catch quickly your interest although you can't really recognize it, trying to dismiss it, thinking must've an hallucination or something outside, in the silence of the night, people tend to be more perspective to any sounds, right?
And just like a bad plot, once your body relaxes, you hear that sound again. . . Unconsciously welcoming the return to old habits, covering more with the blankets and turning around with the eyes still closed, as if that will make a safe shield.
Alright, this isn't your first rodeo, your brain's favorite hobby surely is playing tricks to scare the hell out of you. Taking a deep breath to relax once again, choosing to be delusional to forget everything has to be the best option right now.
What about if the sounds are because a stalker helplessly in love with you just broke into your house? A good night kiss on the forehead sounds lovely, maybe the dark romance or Tumblr posts are affecting your brain already but why care? Cuddling to sleep with someone that loves you unconditionally sounds like a perfect situation, you wouldn't really mind your sleeplessness if you could have that.
Although the normal will be calling the police, why do so if it's not a threat? In your mind, you picture your perfect obsessive s/o, no need to worry about being cheated on if the only thing in his eyes is you, no need to worry about being too much, no need to worry about his feelings ever fading away, isn't that perfect? Yes, it may come with some disadvantages like everything, but nothing you can't handle, you just need to love them, and they will be happy on a daily basis.
As you smile because of your silly fantasies while looking 'asleep' on the outside, you hear an even more unexpected sound. . . a whispering.
“oh, are you having a good sleep? It worries me how long it takes you to sleep every night, it's gonna end up being awful for your health. Maybe it will be better if I start using sleeping pills on you? You always do so much, you need a good rest, my cherry”
You stay still, unable to think what to do, a light but sweet smell invades your nostrils. Does this count as manifestation? Why is he already calling you by a pet name?
“My lovely cherry, my heart ache when I think about how exasperating must feel to hear the constant naging of those who don't really care about at least try empathize, if only I could help with something, I won't think it twice”
Feeling a gentle caress on your hair makes you wonder, this doesn't feel bad at all. Common sense screaming that you need to worry but the warm feeling of his touch disperse that though faster than you're willing to admit.
“Mmm, maybe my desires are taking over my brain already? But I think a perfect medicine for you will be if you snuggle in my embrace, I promise to have the right temperature for you to be comfy all night… if you just let me kiss that addictive face of yours, it will be enough payment for even my soul if you wish to have it”
His voice… sounds familiar, do you know him? 
Even if you recognize that self-preservation should be a top priority, it's hard to care when his voice is this honeyed, using the exact words that attract you like a bee as if he can read your mind. As you feel a faint kiss on the top of your head, you start to ask yourself…
Is bad manners not to reply when someone speaks to you, isn't it? Or maybe it's better to keep pretending to sleep to see what he usually does?
Decisions decisions…
➤ keep pretending
➤ Say something
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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riewritten · 9 months
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FOR ALL THAT WAS DEPRIVED
ERWIN SMITH X FEM!READER, ERWIN SMITH X YOU, NO Y/N
TAGS: canon AU, porn without plot (proceed with caution!), lots of fucking?, yearning (like feral yearning), fluff & smut, cunnilingus, multiple positions, cumshot (hehe), missionary, cowgirl, love marks, feral feral feral gentleman in heat idk!, gentle erwin smith or so he planned because well... u are just so lovely! is it his fault that he had always wanted u so carnally just as he wanted to shower you with love? no, not at all :)
WORDS: 4.3k (yes it was fucking long for a pwp fic. but i was nervous back then ok.)
thought of sharing the first ever smut i've ever written. like the first of firsts. if u perhaps knew where i made this then shh. it's our dirty little secret.
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"Bed, please. Let's take this to bed."
He showered your face with wet kisses and nibbled your lower ear as if to reward you for shamelessly unveiling your long-standing desperation. "You'll let me take care of you there? Hm?"
"Yes," you writhed under him, breathless, hot, ticklish, among many other feelings caused by his smothering of love, "yes I do, please?"
You don’t even need to beg but he's still disgustingly gratified hearing that. He grabbed your hips and ushered you up so he could carry you all the way. You clung to him just well, thigh wrapped around him and your arms hugging his neck tightly. He ended up throwing you on the bed quite harshly that he got taken aback himself. You chortled as he leaned his weight on top of you, cupped your head with both hands, then muttered soft apologies.
"How rare it is to see you lose your cool, Commander."
"Tch, you have no idea how patient I am being until now," Erwin chuckled, slightly ashamed. As swift as ever, his face turned serious with a command. "Clothes. Off."
So you did, albeit in a rush. His voice sounded like an order and you’re secretly drawn to it even if you don’t like being commanded by him on a daily basis. He might also flaunt his existing patience but you don't have any of it left in you. You unclasped your bra along the way then urgently raised his shirt up to make this faster. He followed suit with amusement, and the sight of his bare body made you shiver. He looks like a sculpture.
"How rare it is to see you lose your cool," he shot back.
"Savor what you did to me, Commander," you muttered in annoyance as you attempted to remove his pants. He helped you through it. Leaving his boxers alone, he gave you a sweet smile as if taking pride in what you just said then pushed you down for a messy kiss again. You let out a breathy moan as soon as his fingers brushed on your now hardened nipples. Placed wet kisses on your neck down until he reached your chest, gave a peck on your sternum, and glided his tongue on your left tit while playing with the other one.
He was successful, really. You've barely even started yet your subtle hums are overflowing already just like how he wanted. For you, however, it was quite frustrating. You were never this sensitive towards your previous partners. Even if it's quite a given since you never established emotional attachment towards them, you only did this kind of thing because you heard how it could satiate emptiness temporarily. Needless to say, it wasn't effective, and what you're doing right now is way far from that agenda. Now you realize why you're overly and easily flustered with this matter when Erwin's in the picture.
He noticed you're trying to tone it down so kept up with it. With your nipple popping out of his mouth, he slid his hand towards your clothed core and released a pleased hum upon feeling how wet it was already. It went on for a while until you got desperate to hump yourself with his digits.
"Finally not shy now?" he cooed, rubbing it in teasing motions.
"Erwin," you moaned, cupping his cheek messily. Your body is finally getting something deprived of it for very, very long, and you're not in the mood to tease around. "I've been–I–" he encouraged you to say more by showering your chest with wet kisses, "I feel like I've been waiting for more than a lifetime for this. Please–" Then his eyes shot open at the desperation, quite enthralled that you felt just the way he did. "Mhm, you are too, right? So could you please take me now?"
Right, you are. His mind then throbbed in satisfaction. His cold fingers slid to your core swiftly, gently, and maintained the motion for a while; eager to give you whatever you want if not more.
Out of all the years he had lived this life, this was one moment he felt genuinely happy he existed. And you deserve everything for making him feel like that.
All of a sudden, he withdrew his fingers from your heat and you looked down in confusion. But then he quickly, and almost harshly, dragged down all the garments left in your body. You're now bare before him but unlike earlier, you're not in any way shy. You want to receive everything he’s willing to give. With a pleading look, you weakly asked him to come back to his work.
Erwin slowly crawled above you again; tapping his finger on your clit, "How do you want me to do this tonight?" Even if it sounded playful in some way, it was a genuine question.
Assuming he's messing around, you whined in frustration. "Seriously, I want to be fucked dumb tonight. Don't make me point out obvious things, Erwin."
It made him laugh. He leaned in to kiss your forehead and inserted his middle finger inside, "No, it was an honest question. I want to make this good for you."
"But you make everything feel good," you murmured, relishing the feeling of being stretched inside. His digits are broad after all.
You urged him to go on, hence he continuously motioned hither inside you while his thumb skillfully played around your clit. Relishing the pleasure and willing to welcome more, you played on your nipples messily. When the slicking sounds became louder he inserted the second one and rolled the digits in circular motions. Apart from how good he’s doing you, he’s actually quite nervous himself. Perhaps he might do it too hard, or you might’ve experienced something way better before, and all sorts of reluctance. But your reactions – voice quivering, hips stuttering, your back arching – filled him with such a warm, trembling feeling and he was immensely drunk to it. 
After a while, he stopped, knelt up, and looked at the sinful mess he's made out of you with. It’s needless to say that you were down for good. The sight was glorious for him, utterly. When you thought he was about to finally let himself bare, he held on to your hips instead and raised that up to push it towards you. As he leaned down, he wrapped your legs on his shoulders and settled himself in between your legs. 
Delving his tongue into you and tasting your wetness, he let out a gratified grunt. He brought back his wonders with his fingers as he lapped you up all the while maintaining eye contact; eager to see how you’d take him as he ravished you the way he imagined it. Your hands messily gripped everything – his pillows, mattress, even your hair – and eventually tightened your legs around him to buck on his tongue.
As he felt your walls fluttering around his fingers and your release hanging on the precipice, his motion sped up while his spare hand rested on your abdomen.
“That’s it–hah, please don’t stop–” you stuttered, your moans in crescendo; and he hummed through it just well, encouraging you to come. Not too long after, you grabbed onto his head to bury him below, making him breathe momentarily the least of your concerns. With your back arching and muttering helpless mewls of his name, you came undone.
He rode through your orgasm, continuously lapping on you until you tapped on his head, “Too much, ‘s too much. Please, ‘Win."
You heard him chuckle before letting go; nibbling on your inner thigh for a moment with a smug look on his face as if to say I did that. Only I could. When he knelt back again he let out a satisfied sigh, wiped up his face coated with your fluid, and sucked on the fingers he just used to ravage you. He licked it clean, deliberately swirling his tongue for you to see. Despite the crippling fluster, you weren't able to look away, you're rather getting wet over it instead.
His fingers left his mouth with a soft pop, “Tastes good."
The embarrassment came back to you but you’re still aching to have more. “Come here,” you pleaded and he immediately complied, cupping your face gently. He held you like you're his dearest person in this hell of a world, and you have no idea how could his touches say that much.
However, when you thought he was going for a kiss, he tapped his digits on your mouth instead, “Open.” Another stern order that you followed very willingly. He pushed his index and middle fingers past your mouth and you welcomed it by sucking on them, appeased by what he just did to you. You almost choked on it as he thrust his fingers full on your throat. Still, you hollow your cheeks on it, licking every spot fervently and humming with pleasure to rile him up. “Yeah, that's right," he purred. "Such a good lady for me.” He then suddenly replaced his fingers with his tongue, relishing your mouth and eager to prove to you how good you really tasted.
When he withdrew from the messy lip play, you blurted out, “Can you praise me again?”
You quickly realized what you just said and how you said it. What was that? You almost laughed at yourself.
Erwin raised his brows and snickered, “Am I not praising you enough?”
You stayed silent even after he peppered you with kisses, seemingly holding your squeal of shame.
"Getting shy again, hm? Talk to me, pretty girl.”
“Don’t know where it came from. My mind’s in shambles. Thank you for fucking me dumb tonight.”
“But I’m not doing that yet,” he let it out very endearingly, in stark contrast with his eyes lacing with mischievous glint. His finger flicked on your clit again. “This won’t be settled with this, don’t you think? You’ve waited more than a lifetime, after all.” Such a menacing smile and so you realized: Right, I might be knocked unconscious tonight. He motioned his digits in circular motions.
“I, uh–“ To lessen your stuttering, you gripped his shoulders instead. "I actually said that out of a whim. I never got this sensitive over someone before," you let out a breathy sigh. "My body’s reacting to you differently, Erwin. Am I the only one who feels like this?”
“No,” he landed a wet kiss on your neck, sucked on it, and released it like a pop. That would indeed mark. “But I don't just feel like it, and I believe I waited longer."
You were relieved, “Since when?”
“Since you entered the regiment and introduced yourself to me,” he abruptly inserted his finger inside your cunt then rolled it inside, “–that smile.”
“Fuck, god–” you shuddered, “t–that long?”
“Yeah, that long. I was just a jerk.”
“Better late than never but if you’re not doing that yet, then please do it now."
His heart swelled. This was more than enough, indeed. You might be time-deprived to explore this intimacy, have excruciating dilemmas that could break you off, tons of predicament perceived as a threat, and anguish that are not very easy to handle. Amidst all, your love and desperation overpowered the worries. You broke off every single wall Erwin had built for decades. You broke it off by loving him in way that's longer than your life could ever be.
He removed his digit inside and then made his way to remove the garment left in him, “You’re shifting from ashamed to blunt, pretty thing. Choose one.”
“I really am choosing to be blunt. I just get hit by it from time to time," you sat up to help him. "But okay, to project the boldness again–" but were cut off when he laughed loudly. Shooting him a glare you exclaimed, "Shut up!"
Erwin, despite the struggle to tone down, doesn't want you to feel shy for the rest of the night, "Okay, continue." 
You dragged his boxers down impatiently and whined, “I want your dick inside me. Frantically ruin me until I knock out. Please.”
He was taken aback, he'll give you that, yet it was completely effective. His arousal spiked up way more than earlier.
When he finally got rid of his garment and his protuberance was completely shown before you, you started to doubt if you actually said the right thing. That would really ruin me. Sensing your reluctance just well, he gently laid you down again and raised your legs so he could line himself up.
"You’re not just blunt, you’re getting braver as well. But now that you told me to ruin you, why do you look like hesitating instead?” he taunted, sliding his dick up and down your wetness.
Heat pooled in your lower back, “I’m not. I–” you thrust up to have more friction, “I trust you. You’ll do me well, right?”
“I will,” he concurred sweetly and motioned nearer to you. Cupping your cheeks, he whispered. “Breathe deeply, love.” So you did, and he slowly pushed himself in. Gently, inch by inch, studying your face all throughout. You were whimpering in pain, closing your eyes tight upon feeling the sharp sting, and he’s peppering you with gentle kisses for comfort.
He’s not bottomed out yet you’re already close to crying. Still, you tried. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want him to feel like he’s doing badly. You don’t want to– 
 “‘S okay, ‘s okay. Relax.” he cut your rampant thoughts off with his coos. “I’ll make it fit. Just keep on breathing deeply, okay?”
You clung to his shoulder, letting out your mewls, “I’m sorry, I… don’t want you to think we should stop–”
“We won’t," he nuzzled his lips through your hair, “Unless you tell me so–ah, that’s it, you’re doing great.” then sighed, completely sunk down inside you. He let you get used to the feeling first, just looking at you tenderly without moving. His thumb circled on your clit again to make the process bearable, and eventually, pleasurable. After a while, you opened your eyes again with a smile and small thanks, “Please move.”
Erwin did and he muttered little curses under his breath. You’re tightly squeezing on him and he had to grip his free hand on the mattress to have a sense of control. He was quite overwhelmed. Your scent, tiny sighs, the look of affection, and the way you’re being gorgeously considerate of him – he’s on the precipice of losing control, one more sensation then he’ll admit that both of you will be staying on this bed forever. He tried to speak little praises and comfort to you instead so he could distract himself but you started bucking your hips up.
Fuck.
His train of thought was utterly shaken that he only managed to let out strained hisses. Noting his sounds of pleasure, you reached his ear; sucking, nibbling, licking around, and he almost lost it. He needs to take you slowly but he’s losing it. Erwin almost laughed at himself.
“Am I doing great?” you asked as you finally earned a steady pace in rocking and thrusting. When he wasn’t able to answer, you withdrew your mouth to his ear, turned up to him, and cupped his cheeks, “Am I?” you repeated, searching for reactions.
Erwin mentally shook his head, finally admitting defeat to his sense of control and the tightening of his muscles. He gripped your hips and thrust hard, making you suck in a sharp breath. “Doing so well,” he lowly grunted then set the pace unrelentingly fast, almost lacking mercy, “–my prettiest soldier.” His digits played harsher on your clit.
That’s it, 
That’s it. 
You let out drawn-out moans and silly whispers. When the pleasure blurred your thoughts to even mind shame, you brought his head to your breast, urging him to trace his tongue on it. He sucked on it with pleasure, and the thumb that was swirling on your clit slid to the other nipple instead. Your instincts are drumming in your ears as his rhythm picks up. The way he’s massaging your inner walls with every thrust of his dick and the lewd slapping sounds of skin that comes along was making your head dissolve into oblivion.
Erwin was so immersed in it that he looked down to see the tainted mess himself. He grabbed your hand and landed it on your lower stomach, “Feel that?” he drawled as he continued pounding. You felt his cock marking it whenever he pushed inside. And as your mind was too fuzzy to even answer, you nodded relentlessly. “Is this what you waited for? Hm? Tell me, love.” His taunting etched every enjoyment he has in the sight of you too dumbed out to answer. 
As he felt himself reaching his peak, he pressed on your lower stomach to urge the coil in you to come out. And there it comes, you’re clenching harder than ever, thrashing around his length.
"Tight—hah—fuck, love," he rasped, "l-look at you, taking me in so–mhm—so nicely."
He was getting delirious, too, whispering sweet nothings; how good this is, how tight you are, how he's finally having all of you for himself. Your sounds are getting more and more obscene too, moaning a mixture of curse words and his name that he can't help but indulge himself through and give you more.
He lurches, continuously pounding and pounding until you’re trembling, milking on him for what he’s worth. He eventually pulled out, shooting his seed into your abdomen.
Then he dropped down. Fucked out. Leaning his weight into you with a sigh. He was too heavy that it could almost be classified as crushing you into pulp. The position went on for a while and instead of asking him to let you breathe, you start laughing at the sudden memory instead.
“Why?” he asked, his voice hushed and raspy. He’s nuzzled in your neck now, mindlessly nibbling on it.
“Isabel told me this a long time ago,” you giggled, "I feel guilty for remembering her this way."
"Bless her soul," Erwin chuckled, "but go on, what did she say?"
"That you could crush me into pulp if you wanted to. I told her I don’t think you’d want that but here you are.”
“Oh. Sorry.” he slightly got up and leaned on his elbows for support instead. “But why would she say that?”
“Because your build was intimidating,”
“Ah, that...” Isabel mocked him for his huge build plenty of times when she was still alive. Amidst her disdain, Erwin remembers her kindly. He scooted to lie down beside you, then brought your body to his embrace, “Were you intimidated as well?”
“I’m too engrossed avoiding your presence to mind how huge you are," you pondered, “but now I realized it was actually a good thing. I’d even thank you if you cracked my head with your muscles now.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’m not kidding. Want me to tell you more?”
“No," he was holding a laugh.
“But it’s hot–”
“Stop.” 
“Actually it goes like thi–” he silenced you with a kiss and you chuckled through it. It went on for a while until he’s sure you're really shutting up. He nestled you further to him and both of you were silent for a while. “I was about to suggest we wash up but I kind of want to keep going.”
You were actually about to say that and his remark made you more courageous so you blurted out, “Can I ride you?”
He stopped in his tracks, wide-eyed, then turned to you to see if you were actually kidding around, only to laugh in defeat at your dead serious face. Just like that and he’s aroused again.
“Have I said it too weird?”
“No, but why would you want that?”
You ignored his question, “So is it okay or not?”
“Of course, but it'd be quite a work. Why won't you let me take care—oh!” you cut him off by getting up and sitting on his abdomen.
“Sit down," you beckoned him through your fingers.
The sight of you channeling dominance was completely amusing to him, to say the least, so he ticked his eyebrows and followed suit, “What do you want to do?”
“Revenge.”
Erwin almost snorted at that but you cut him off with a sloppy kiss.  It’s now quite gentler than earlier and even if he wants to crush you down the bed again, he let you have it your way this time. Erwin can feel your wetness dripping on him, and you can feel his hard-on standing on your back. You released a breathy sigh, trying to rub your slickness on him. To make the position comfortable, he withdrew from the kiss and moved backward.
“I may not know what you’re avenging for but my pretty girl can get whatever she wants," he leaned against the headboard. “Show me how it’s done.”
“It’s for always–” you lined him up to your entrance, “–ordering me around.”
Then bounced down on him abruptly, swallowing him in warmth. He bit back a moan and you got your pretty little noises as well, very much satisfied with how he’s stretching you full again. You tried to gauge his reactions at first, languidly riding him down, rolling your hips in experimental paces, and relishing how he looked at you – lidded, flushed, with a small smirk.
In the middle of it, however, something daunted you; you don't have much experience with this. He seemed to have lots given how well he did you earlier but you don’t. Erwin sensed the jittery so he grabbed your figure much nearer to him, “Why?”
You gave him a sheepish chuckle, “My confidence slipped away." When you thought he’d laugh at it like earlier, his face immediately softened and gave you an understanding hum instead.
“Poor girl, what’s on your mind?”
“I’m just not used to doing this thing passionately,” Nevertheless, you continued the rhythmic bucks—taking him in and out, gripping in his shoulders, holding back whimpers. Tremors of pleasure teemed Erwin's body, all of it getting too good to handle, “B-but I want to take care of you as well– that kind of thing.”
“But you’re doing it so well,” he doted, slowly nuzzling his lips on the sides of your face, nibbling your ears, patching up your neck with more bites as if to flaunt how he’s taken you for his own. He really can’t get enough, and the way you’re telling him so adorably how you want to be good for him satisfied a darker side of his psyche. He gripped your hips very tightly, intentionally having it to mark, and jerked his hips upwards to help you take him.
All his reluctance about not meeting your desires disappeared to shreds as he remembered; you’re here, on your own accord, even after seeing the monster that he could be. If you would go to him keeping in mind all the deplorable sins he had done then you had given yourself over. Drawn, bound together, and pleasures to be consumed by him. Mine. It throbbed in his head, repeatedly so, for he was very gratified.
He headily reached for your face, brought your lips into his, and relished the realization desperately; hoping you’d realize it as well. As the swirls of your tongues slipped your minds towards oblivion, his thrusts became more unrestrained and feral. He needed to feel more, needed to hear more.
He called your name, “Louder. Have everyone hear how well I'm taking you.”
It was yet another stern, or perhaps desperate, command. And so you did, not like you have any choice. It feels too good and you’re disgustingly drunk on the slick sounds of your heat as you ride him down. “My good girl, yeah, just like that.”
After a while of letting your bodies do the act for yourselves – what was yearned from the things left undone – you’re coming again. And his drawn-out moans, grunts, and words of praises told you he’s the same. He mercilessly rutted, fucked up your cunt, until your walls fluttered around his cock for the second time. As you reached your climax, he abruptly got himself out of you and came again. His seed was all over you: stomach, chest, some of it was even shot to your face.
He let out a dark chuckle at the sight. He was able to savor you completely. Now you lay in front of him, being the utterly divine art that you are. Completely messed up. By him. Alone. Nobody else could. In this world and even beyond.
You gave him a shy, tired yet satisfied smile and he slid his fingers to your face to wipe it himself.
“That was so good," he whispered, your foreheads bumping against each other.
“Heh, heh. Took you so well, didn’t I?”
"Very much so." The cheeky grin warmed Erwin up even more, so he kissed your forehead before ushering you up.
“Aren’t you tired?” you whined and laid down on the bed. Of course, you wanted to clean up, but you came three times and you’re minutes away from sleeping the night.
“I could still go on if we stay tied there, uncleaned," he sat up on the corner of the bed and massaged your sore limbs. He glided his fingers on the marks, guilty for making it too hard, “Sorry.” He scooted and gave it a peck.
You showed him your neck, full of his bites, “This,” then examined your chest only to see another one on the side of your left breast, “When was this?” you glared at it. Then pointed to the one he’s holding on to your hips, “And this," you ruffled his hair. “This could be decades-worth of pining! All because some commander decided to be a full-on jerk.”
"I know.”
He remained in his position for a while just looking at you in the eyes. The smile was quite a sad one, almost mournful, but you maintained the tender look on your face. After a while, he slid his hand to cup your cheek with his thumb playing on it, “Are you up for another round?” he smiled endearingly.
“What the heck is up with your stamina?” you scoffed but still tried to assess whether you could or not. Maybe you could, it’s Erwin after all.
“I’m just kidding," he pinched your cheek and then stood up. “Let’s clean up. My room smells too good right now. One more sniff and we'll stay on this bed making love until we die.”
“Your room should get used to it," you replied, realizing you’re actually feeling sore and it’s quite difficult to stand now. Erwin knew it so he spent time fixing your baths first.
Carrying you there himself, he replied, “Yeah. You should get used to it too.”
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🔖@collinnmckinley @frenchdyer @aeanya @xiaotopia @watyousayin | SUBSCRIBE TO STORIES
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khristie16 · 3 months
Text
The fast and forbidden
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Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.
— chapter 4 Both are conflicted after their intimate experience. What Charles’s jealousy makes him act in a way is wasn't recognized even from his friends
warnings: 18+, masturbating, jealousy, angst
.........................................................................
That night was wild. As i went back to my room I felt embarrassment linger on my insides and I pushed my back to the right apartment door as I shut them behind me as if that would stop me from being hunted just by what happened. It never ever crossed my mind that literally my boss would have seen me naked under any circumstances. The cold shower did not help me from overthinking practically anything, it felt like I’m not even in control of my thoughts. I groaned in displeasure and went to my bedroom. Staying quiet to perhaps hear something from his room and cursing myself for even doing that after what has happened. Getting in my bed didn’t quite help me, it made my feelings for Charles even worse.
The next day I wake up with sweat covering my body, I hold my chest as if something has convinced me this body is no longer mine because it wasn’t when was Charles touching me. His fingers laced on my hot skin and my legs trembling as if he is the owner of my body and my body is no longer mine. His sinful eyes full of uncertainty of what’s to come and I believe I’m going to shatter right at the spot I was sitting on my bed here in a hotel. His touch was getting lost in my soft skin, and I swear I felt something inside of me, something that was growing and when I looked down it was him, entering me again and again until I screamed and woke up from this dream.
I thought I’m going to be sick. This is a lot to take, and I cannot function like that on daily basis. If there is one thing that I’d love, is to be able leave this dream pass but it feels like I took the most out of the dream. And I seem to cannot go back.
A sound coming from my phone startled me till I jumped on the seat still covered in sheets. I stand up with a hold of breath to look of who is it. Part of me was scared it might be Charles and I would have to approach him. But instead, a little disappointment filled my body when I saw the guy from yesterday has messaged me. What was his name again? Ah yes, Patrick.
His comforting questions about my well being made me pause for a sec and made my body to relax. But it was soon replaced with anxiety. What am I supposed to do with this man now? I cannot shake the feeling of the..., dream, perhaps nightmare, I cannot say. I still have the perfect image of Charles on top of me doing all of those…. In and out movements. It makes me sick, and ashamed. God damn, I shouldn’t be dreaming about such things. But I shouldn’t be hard on myself that much, it’s enough that Charles was hard on me…literally.
I shake my head to somewhat shake the thought off and I finally saw clearly the words typed down on my phone again.
Hey! Yeah, I slept well.
I toss the phone on the couch again and make my way to a bathroom. In the mirror reflection I see flushed cheeks and dirty hair. How can someone have passionate sex and look good meanwhile? It was just a dream and yet I look like if I had truly experienced that. Maybe it is because it felt like that.
Charles’s POV
Charles couldn’t sleep immediately after YN has left. He didn’t understand why he was wide awake, but he caught himself afterwards he is still going back to the image of YN being naked in front of him in his bedroom. It made him feel some shivers running down his spine and he couldn’t judge if it is good or not. All his awareness was filled with her and after staring blanky on the ceiling he gave up on sleeping and went to bathroom to jerk himself off. He tried hard to not make it obvious to him that he had a certain image in front of his eyes in his mind, but he couldn’t hide it that well. He knew this delusional act and pretending wouldn’t last long. So, as he fell to his bed again, he felt a sudden emptiness in his body, and he fell asleep with the last thought of YN in the blank space he fell in his stomach.
Charles now has found himself in a cafeteria lobby with his friend Joris. As they were casually talking about tonight’s upcoming night out, he finally felt good about being able to think just about anything else but her. But it didn’t stay that long. As if Joris knew since the beginning there is something of with Charles related to YN, he took a good look at Charles before speaking up. Joris knew Charles has changed and that is why he even offered for a personal assistant position to take place, but his cold demeanor to her was something everyone saw. Either if it was Carla or Andrea. Everyone saw through him that it was a weird thing to watch at. And as so for Joris as one of his best friends, he wanted to push Charles to his limits.
‘I saw YN yesterday.’
Charles stuck a little in his movement before trying to smooth his behavior to a more relaxed one. Good for Joris he has and excellent eye for a detail and it didn’t run from his attention.
‘Okay. So what?’
Joris chuckled rather quietly and liked this game already. Pushing your best friend about a topic his friend is clearly passionate about was something thrilling. To be honest, there is a very fine line between passion and hate. And with hate there comes anger or resentment.
‘She was with a man. A fine man, luxurious car and stuff’
Charles stuck in his movement again but swiftly get back to his previous position. Now the chuckle left Joris’s lips. He was met with a furious gaze from his best friend as he asked.
‘What?!’
Joris laughed and tried so hard to hide it but failed. He put his fist in front of his mouth to mask it with a cough, but his eyes couldn’t lie.
‘Nothing, just nothing’
Charles didn’t like what was Joris doing. He is not dumb, he knew. But he wasn’t mad at Joris, he was frustrated with himself.
‘Well, she can do whatever she wants.’
Joris eyes went high on his forehead as he couldn’t believe Charles let himself be this obvious.
‘Something happened Charles?’
An awkward silence filled the space as a waitress approached their table to refill their drinks. Both acted as if nothing happened and Joris was getting curious if there was something more in this situation between those two. As the waiter left their table Joris made it clear what his intentions are with a loud cough and gesturing for Charles to talk.
Charles refused to give in and acted like a little bitch.
‘Nothing happened!’
He reached for his refilled drink just to spill it on his jeans and grunted in pure discomfort. Not just about jeans, but about his best friend pushing him. He took his mobile phone and went upstairs, leaving Joris in awe.
During the day Charles focused on trainings and both acted like the other didn’t exist. But as much as Charles has tried to forget about what is happening inside of him, the more he lingered back in thoughts to her.
YN POV
It made me sad to be in such a position. The last thing I thought was that Charles would be acting so cold towards me. On one side I get it that it’s for the best, because of what had happened, but I remember fondly his remark from the evening. What a shame you’re leaving. I really don’t know what to make out of that. It looked like he was toying with me. And I don’t like that. But at the same time, I am the ‘victim in here’. I was put in a vulnerable position and even though Charles has nothing to do with how badly I took this experience, he didn’t have to be so cold towards me. Not more then before. I wasn’t well aware why I feel this way, but I definitely didn’t like it. That is why I shift my focus on Patrick. I deducted since Charles is completely ignoring me, I will be free tonight, as the same as yesterday, what won’t be the same is my naïve brain leading me to his apartment.
I’ll pick you up at seven;)
As I was preparing the beautiful dress for tonight’s event with Patrick, I added some light blush on my cheeks that matched with my red lipstick going well with long gown dress, perfect for a night out in a luxurious restaurant with a handsome man. For the first time this day, I smiled softly to myself and put on high heels. With all the pain conflicting inside of me I forgot the pain of wearing heals. At least I gained something from this fiasco with Charles. Or whatever it is.
I reach for the door to head out and with the swift of air brushing my hair I see Charles with his fist in the eye level to knock, I suppose. I stay still and watch him in confusion.
‘Hi’
He made an awkward presence with his greeting; this was another level of confusion. How can one act to cold and then when they open their mouth, they sound like a lost tad?
‘You’re heading somewhere?’
I stopped the thinking cycle happening again in my head and composure well.
‘Well… yes? I was planning to head out, I assumed you don’t need me today.’
He titled his head and furrowed his eyebrows as If I had said the dumbest thing ever. I scoff internally.
‘And why did you assume that?’
That’s where he got me. I didn’t ask, He didn’t tell me. I was naïve again to think that. Or more of so it was his fault he did not say a thing. But I am under him and If I want to pursue my dreams, I need to have this job. At least to keep it for a month or two.
‘I’m sorry, I interpreted the message wrong. You need me for today’s evening I suppose?’
He just nodded and start with his eyes looking at me closely from head to toe. It was hot suddenly. *gulp*
‘I see you are ready already. Let me change and we can go,’
‘Where?’
He gave me a wink and left me speechless on the mid way from my room to the corridor. I was getting more and more mad at him. I gritted through my teeth and went inside to sit down and write a message to Patrick. I was sad at one point that I’m going to miss on this date.
Hey Patrick, I’m sorry, but work came into my plan for this evening. I would love to dismiss such obligation, but I cannot unfortunately:( xoxo.
Left with my thoughts, Charles opened his door and came out in full tux. He looked hot. And my mouth agreed since I had to fight it hard to not gape. Put yourself together.
‘Let’s go’
That’s all he said and there was just silence between us. I didn’t know where he is taking me, but I really didn't have much of a choice so instead I stayed silent till the full ride to the destination.
Another boring event. A lot of people, too many champagnes and too much obnoxious talk. Or am I just hateful? I couldn’t care less right now. All I wanted to be spared of this, but I guess I have some job to do here as Charles’s personal assistant, which I couldn’t quite put the finger on the reason for bringing me here.
As we stayed by side and observing what’s happening around us, some old man approached us. The next thing boiled my blood. Charles’s hand landed on my waist on the back and pushed me closer to him, just a little but it was known to me. I was too lost in confusion to say anything about it, plus I didn’t want to make a scene. Not because of Charles, but because of me. I prefer peace rather than conflicts. So, I obeyed and acted however I was supposed to do in this moment. It is not like anyone expected me to talk so I wandered around the room to see a familiar face. Patrick.
My eyes almost fell out and the anxiety that numbed my limbs was almost too much to bear. Patrick was clearly confused and did not understand. I started shaking my head as a try to tell him it is not what it looks like. He stayed looking at me but then took his focus on Charles. He eyed him up and down. I don’t’ know what I wanted in that moment, but I was clearly just stuck. My mind and my body.
‘Hey YN’
I turn my head around to see Joris. The anxiety level rose high, and I scarred looked on Patrick again, but he was fortunately not looking at my direction now.
‘Are you alright?’
I turned again to talk to Joris. Charles was aware Joris came in and he left the embrace on my back. I took this opportunity to escape to Joris instead.
‘Hi, sorry. I’m just overwhelmed.’
His eyes went straight to my back, looking straight through my middle and right back up.
‘I can see that.’
I shook my head and excused myself to go to the lady’s room.
*inhale* *exhale* again and again
Did it help? Temporarily. I escaped now but I cannot keep running from myself. I should have said something before. In the car on our way here. I should have said more to Patrick so this situation wouldn’t escalate to something bigger than it is. But what I know? I don’t know what Patrick thinks.
‘Whatever’
I got fed up with the same second and opened the doors to walk back, yet again, the same pair of green eyes hunting me everywhere.
‘What happened YN?’
At this moment I was feeling sorry for Charles. Because I was furious. And I raised my voice. At my boss.
‘What happened? You are asking me?’ I scoffed so hard it was visible for anyone to know how furious I am, ‘You’re the one who should be answering that question! What was that about huh? The touching? Holding my waist?’
Charles’s eyes showed conflict and fear as he didn’t know how to react. This was the first time I saw him not knowing what to do or say, his confidence far away from him now.
‘I- ‘
‘WHAT’
He shut his mouth immediately and looked mad. I exhaled and let my shoulders to fall to relax.
‘I’m sorry for raising my voice at you.’
Charles was still silent, but no in his mind. There was clearly something happening. He opened his mouth but shut it again.
‘YN?’
We both turned our gaze to the right to see Patrick. In the field of my eyes, I saw Charles’s composure to stiffen, and his face hardened.
‘And you are doing what exactly?’
A visible mockery in his voice lingered its way to Patrick who stopped walking towards me, confusion transformed to disgust and took a defensive composure.
God help me.
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avatar-anna · 4 months
Note
I feel like we haven’t seen much of youngmom reader super pregnant with her 7 babies??? Maybe I just don’t remember but I’d love to see y/n throughout her pregnancies! If not it’s okay I love ALL YOUR WORK!! ❤️
Baby Fever
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Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist
i was too tired to include charlie. sorry!
Simone
Y/n sighed as she looked over her figure in the mirror, her shoulders slumping at the sight of her unbuttoned jeans and swollen belly. Looking down, she glared pointedly at the bump, saying, "Damn you, Harry."
She tried to button up her jeans one last time to no avail, then fell back on the bed behind her. It was Harry's, Y/n didn't feel comfortable enough to call it hers too, even though he insisted his home was hers now. The mattress was plush enough for her to sink into, and the sheets were softer than soft, she just felt like she was a guest staying in someone else's home.
It didn't help that she was alone most days. If Y/n had thought Harry had a busy schedule before all of this, she sorely underestimated the hectic schedule he had on a daily basis. The first half of her pregnancy, Harry was gone on tour promoting One Direction's latest album. When he came back to London, he was gone almost all day for interviews and late night talk shows and performances at radio stations. Work seemed neverending, and when Harry did eventually trudge through his front door, he was pretty much dead on his feet.
It was a weird situation that they were in, but nothing about their relationship had ever been typical.
Not really caring what kind of important meeting or interview he was having, Y/n pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on the right person.
"Y/n! It's good to hear from you! How've you been?"
"Put him on the phone, Louis. I need to talk to him. Please," she said, adding please after realizing how harsh she sounded.
Louis was quick to do as she asked, though. Y/n could hear him rustling and calling out until he eventually found her boyfriend.
There was a time when Y/n didn't think she could call Harry that. She'd always liked him. Since the day they met, they were both absolutely smitten with each other, anyone could see that. But when she found out she was pregnant, things shifted. Y/n and Harry's relationship catapulted into chaos, and before they could even have the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, they were suddenly nine months away from being parents.
Over time, they got to that place they'd been in before Y/n got pregnant. They had the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, and now they were happy.
Well, for the most part.
"Hey, love, what's up? Everything okay?"
The sound of Harry's voice soothed and frustrated her all at once. Tears, which had been an unwelcome side effect of her pregnancy, began to well in her eyes.
"My jeans don't fit anymore."
There was silence between them, Y/n's words floating between them until it was eventually broken by Harry's laughter.
"It's not funny!" she insisted, even though she began to giggle alongside him.
"Baby," Harry said once his laughter subsided. "Why are you trying to put jeans on anyway? Are you going somewhere?"
"No, I've just gained so much weight. I feel like a blob, and you're partly to blame."
Y/n knew the baby bump was coming, she knew there would come a time when jeans and tops wouldn't fit and she'd have to buy clothes that were more accommodating to the baby growing in her belly. She just didn't expect to be this emotional about it. It was probably just the hormones.
"I'm sorry, baby," Harry said, a note of seriousness in his voice that Y/n appreciated even though she knew she was being slightly unreasonable. "I still think you're the prettiest girl I've ever laid eyes on."
Groans of protest and disgust erupted from Harry's side of the phone, followed by teasing at Harry's sappy words. "I came in here for privacy! Don't complain when you hear shit you didn't want to hear!" he told his bandmates. He mumbled something about never getting a moment alone anymore and nosy pricks, which made Y/n giggle as he presumably found a new place to talk to her privately.
In a hushed voice, he said, "I don't like it when you cry, baby."
"I wasn't planning on it," she sniffled. "I know I should've anticipated this, but now my belly sticks out and nothing fits me and I look horrible."
"No you don't," Harry said, not missing a beat. He didn't have to see her to know she looked just as gorgeous as she always did. Baby bump or no baby bump. "Put your sweats back on, love. I'll bring home dinner and we'll watch a movie."
"Really?" Y/n asked, and Harry could all but imagine her watery smile. "Because the baby's craving hot wings, and I know you don't like them."
Shaking his head, he promised, "Don't worry. Text me what you want. I'll be home soon."
"I—Thank you. B—Bye."
Harry's breath hitched, his phone still pressed to his ear even after she'd hung up. He knew what Y/n had been about to say, at least he was ninety percent sure he knew. He could only hope she was going to say, "I love you." Neither of them had said it to each other before, not wanting to get lost or caught up in the emotions of having to baby together. But Harry knew. He'd known for some time now. He just didn't want to scare her by just how deep his feelings went.
Slipping his phone into his pocket, Harry went back into the green room where the rest of the boys were. He took the ribbing they gave him for being "smitten" and "whipped." But he didn't care. Y/n was waiting for him to bring her dinner, and that was really all he could think about as the minutes ticked by until he could go home.
*.*
Collette
Y/n couldn't help the slacking of her jaw as she watched her husband.
Sure, she'd seen him a number of different ways—working out, doing handiwork around the house, performing onstage, dressed for a red carpet—but here, as he wore a tiara and held a tiny teacup with pretend tea in it and sat across from his daughter, Y/n had never been more turned on in her life.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Yesterday it was the way her husband had offered to go to the grocery store for her, and just an hour ago it was how he hummed to himself while he made breakfast for her and Simone. Shirtless. By now, Y/n was fairly used to her attraction to Harry, but it was as if every little thing he did turned her on.
She'd read about this in a couple articles online and pregnancy books, that some pregnant people sometimes became extremely horny due to the hormonal changes happening in their bodies. When Y/n was pregnant with Simone, she never really...felt that way. Perhaps it was because she was so nervous and overwhelmed by the situation at hand, but now she was feeling it tenfold.
Needing to distract herself, Y/n went upstairs to the nursery to fold laundry. To nest, as Harry liked to tease. They'd been working on the nursery together for weeks in preparation for their second baby, and now it was nearly finished. Y/n and Harry let Simone pick out some of the decorations, like the fuzzy lion rug and Winnie the Pooh themed pillows and pick out toys she thought the baby might like. And now it was pretty much done, all that was needed was for the baby to be born.
Y/n had gone upstairs to distract herself, to keep Harry out of her line of sight so she wouldn't openly drool in front of Simone, but now she was alone with her imagination which was starting to run a little wild. She folded the baby clothes carefully as her mind stubbornly wandered. Harry's hands, his arms, his broad shoulders and sharp jaw. He was all she could think about, and the more she thought about him, the more she wanted him.
Would he want me?
They'd never really hooked up when Y/n was pregnant. Things were different then, more complicated, but Y/n didn't think Harry would be into her when she was significantly more round than usual. She didn't feel sexy or attractive, and she could only imagine Harry felt the same. They kissed and cuddled in bed, but since they found out she was pregnant, they didn't do much more than that. Y/n could only guess it was because she was showing now.
Later that afternoon, Y/n was in bed resting, the baby in her belly moving around a little too much to be comfortable. Simone was napping, and Harry was taking care of some things downstairs. Overall, it was a pretty relaxing day.
Minus the horniness, but Y/n tried to push that down.
She'd been doing a pretty good job of it until Harry burst into the room, sweaty and grimy and without a shirt, the article of clothing in question in his hands and covered in dirt and oil stains.
A flare of heat went straight to Y/n's cheeks as she subtly crossed one leg over the other, her stare zeroing in on her husband's chest. Before she could be caught, she blinked, meeting his gaze.
"What...What happened to you?"
"Your car needed an oil change," Harry said, as if that explained everything. "Might have run into some hiccups along the way, but it should be good to go."
It was enough to shake her from her lust-filled haze. "Why couldn't we just take it into the shop?"
Harry shrugged again as he headed for the bathroom, ditching his clothes as he went. Was he trying to kill me? you thought helplessly, your crossed legs doing nothing to soothe the ache between them.
"I did it. It's fine." Then the sound of the shower filled the bedroom, and steam slowly began to roll past the bathroom door. "The baby still kicking?"
His voice was echoey and faint, and Y/n didn't need much encouragement to imagine her husband all soapy and wet as he rinsed off. He didn't even invite her to join him. If this was what pregnancy did to her sex life, she was never getting pregnant again.
"Y—Yeah. A little."
"I'm sorry, Mama. You know, I read something about babies kicking at this stage. It..."
Y/n wanted to listen, but she just couldn't. She wanted him so bad she could barely think straight. And it frustrated her to no end that Harry probably didn't feel the same. He just breezed right past her when he came into their bedroom, barely even looked up as he shuffled into the bathroom for his shower. Every inch of her body was lined with need for him, and he...he just kept ignoring her.
Harry was still talking as he shuffled out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. The man standing before her was one big walking, talking tease—rivulets of water running over ridiculously prominent muscles, tattoos that she just wanted to touch, or kiss, or maybe lick, skin slightly pink from the shower, and that towel that seemed to be hanging onto him by a thread. If only she could just—
"Mama? Everything okay?"
Blushing, Y/n tried to pretend it wasn't taking everything in her to not jump him. "Yep. Perfect."
"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically. "You look a little flushed. Should I get you a cold towel—"
Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Unhindered by her baby bump, she sat up and surged forward, planting her hands firmly on Harry's shoulders and kissing him. To her surprise, he didn't recoil and instead rested one hand on her waist and one in her hair, pulling her closer to him.
His skin, still warm and a little damp from his shower, had never felt so delicious against hers. She wanted him to rip her clothes off, she wanted him to use a little force and push her back onto the bed, she wanted him to be rough with her. Tightening her grip, Y/n sunk her teeth into Harry's lip, hoping to get some kind of reaction from him.
"Mama, maybe we should—"
"Fuck, nevermind," she huffed, pushing Harry away from her. Falling back onto the bed, Y/n tried to make herself comfortable. She would've put her back to him and rested on her side, but her belly wouldn't have made that very possible.
"Y/n?"
"Go away."
"Baby, what—what's wrong? I just—"
Y/n, who had been pointedly not looking at Harry, glared harshly at him. "I get it. You find me repulsive now that I'm pregnant, which, can I just say is despicable—"
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confusion furrowing his brow.
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself. "You won't—I mean you haven't—Okay, I'm just gonna say it. I'm horny all the fucking time, and you're—you barely even touch me!"
"That's not—" Harry sighed, running a hand over his face. "That's not even remotely true, Mama."
"Don't Mama me," Y/n said, not believing him entirely.
"Let's get one thing clear, Y/n. I don't find you repulsive," Harry said, inching closer to Y/n on the bed. "I—I don't even think that's possible."
"Then why won't you have sex with me?" Y/n asked, and when he began to laugh, she swatted at his arm. "Don't laugh at me! You don't get it!"
Before she could even think to protest, Harry hauled Y/n on his lap. She tried to stubbornly push him off, but he held her steady, on hand tilting her chin to look at him. "I've been worried about the baby."
"Huh?"
"The baby, darling. I didn't want to, like, hurt you or her or anything by, you know...going too hard." Harry's cheeks flushed, but he pressed on. "You really thought it was because I didn't want to be with you."
Y/n's nod was shame-filled at the hurt in his voice. "I can barely get you to wrap your arms around me, and these hormones are driving me absolutely insane, H."
Gently, Harry kissed the top of his wife's cheekbone. Smoothing back some of her hair, he said, "You honestly think I could resist you, Mama? It's been torture."
"Yeah?"
"Baby," he said, leaning Y/n back toward the bed. "You really think you're not an absolute dream right now? You think I don't want my mouth all over these gorgeous tits? You think I don't want my hands all over you? You think I'm not aching for you all the time?"
"I didn't think—"
"If you think for one second that I don't find you irresistible, then I'm a terrible husband." Harry made sure Y/n was comfortable against the pillows before kissing her once, then pushed the t-shirt she wore past her chest. "I'm sorry, Mama. I've just been looking out for the baby, I swear. Let me make it up to you?"
"H—How?"
"We'll be gentle. For now," he added at Y/n's squawk of protest. "I really don't want to do anything wrong, so let me just love on you, okay? Let me show you how fucking breathtaking you are."
Harry kissed a line down Y/n's entire body, and she struggled to keep it together when he made it to her thighs. Her breaths suddenly became unsteady, Harry's chuckle making her squirm when he finally moved her underwear aside.
Before he went any further, though, Y/n called his name, making him pause. "You really think I'm beautiful. Even with the belly?"
Eyes softening, Harry shimmied back up the bed to kiss Y/n on the lips. His mouth was soft against hers, but firm, a promise in them that she accepted happily. Harry's tongue was both familiar and reassuring against hers, warming her up from within.
"Believe me when I say that I've never seen anyone more beautiful than you, Y/n," he murmured. "I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise."
Blushing, Y/n beamed before kissing Harry repeatedly all over his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said. "Now I really need you to fuck me."
Chuckling, Harry pushed his hair out of his face. "Let's start with make love, okay?"
Y/n wanted to pout, but she knew that was perhaps the safest option. It was sensible of Harry to look out for the baby, but now he had some making up to do. So she nodded and settled further into the pillows, kissing her husband once more before letting him worship her.
*.*
Maeve and Julian
"Just like that, Mama. That's perfect!"
Raising an eyebrow at her husband, she asked, "Are you even taking pictures of my face?"
Harry peeked his head from behind the camera. "Well...not right now, but this shot is perfect, I promise. Just a couple more seconds."
Y/n humored Harry just as he asked. He'd been really set on doing an at-home pregnancy photoshoot. Nothing extravagant, just her in a pair of jeans and a bouquet of flowers. Y/n of course said yes, but perhaps she was a tiny bit incentivized by a bubble bath and a back rub from her husband.
She tried to remain still, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. "Simone! Easy!"
Harry looked over to his daughter. Simone played on the lawn where Harry decided the photoshoot would take place, spinning around and around in circles until she fell down in a heap of giggles. The second time she'd done it made Y/n nervous Simone would make herself sick, but Harry put a hand up to keep her where he wanted her.
"Come here, peanut! Let's take a picture with mummy," he called out, beckoning Simone over.
Simone rushed over, face flushed and eyes bright. She looked so much like Harry in that moment—big, squinty eyes, cheeky smile, crinkled nose—that Y/n nearly did a double take.
Setting down the bouquet of flowers, Y/n quickly shrugged on the loose robe she'd worn before Harry insisted on her taking it off. It was light and airy, perfect for the hot flashes she got on occasion, and perfect for what she imagined Harry had in mind until he told her his idea.
"Just trust the vision, Mama, he'd said before offering to untie the strings himself.
Once it was on, she reached for Simone and hoisted her up. Y/n ignored her husband's warning, opting to kiss her daughter's cheek instead. It was so important to Y/n that Simone didn't feel left out or upset about a new sibling when Y/n and Harry found out they were pregnant with Collette.
So far Simone had been positive about having another baby sister in the house, but Y/n was still cautious, still conscious of her oldest daughter's feelings now that she was pregnant again. And baby bump seemed to be growing bigger by the day, and she wanted to hold and cuddle and play with her daughter as much as she could before she couldn't do much more than waddle around.
"I'm sitting on the babies!" Simone giggled, making Y/n laugh too. Harry had stopped his protests, which told Y/n that he was back to snapping his pictures.
"What do you think, little melon? Should we get baby Collette in the picture too?" Y/n asked after Harry had snapped photos from a few different angles.
"Will you at least sit down?" Harry asked, exasperated by Y/n trying to overexert herself.
"You worry too much," she told him, but did as he asked anyway after taking Simone from her bouncer.
Collette nestled against Y/n immediately, her little cheek squished and lips puffed out as she rested on her mother's chest. Simone stood over Y/n and Collette, peering down at her sister's face curiously.
"She's sleepy, Mommy," she said, reaching down to gently hold Collette's hand.
"Yeah, it's almost nap time," Y/n told Simone. Then, to Harry, "How are we doing, Daddy? Collette's going down and I have to pump."
"Go ahead and put her down. Simone and I will play for a little bit, won't we, peanut? Maybe take a couple more pictures?"
"Yeah!"
Simone was always game for anything Harry suggested, as if each word that came from her father's mouth was pure gold. Y/n admired how much she loved her dad, but sometimes they could be a troublesome duo, Simone asking for something and Harry giving in without a thought.
After Harry trotted over to help Y/n to her feet, she shuffled inside, heading up to the nursery to lay Collette down for a nap. She planned to set Collette down in her crib, but something made her head for the rocking chair in the opposite corner of the room instead. Settling herself down with the baby, Y/n began to rock back and forth, humming idly as she waited for Collette's eyes to close.
It didn't take long, but Y/n kept on holding her daughter anyway, content to rock back and forth and rest her legs after the trek up the stairs. She'd never admit it to Harry, but being pregnant with two babies instead of one this time around was taking a toll on her much sooner than her other pregnancies. Her husband was already a mother hen when Y/n was pregnant, she didn't need to add fuel to that well-kept fire.
"Isn't that a sight."
Looking up, Y/n found Harry at the foot of the nursery, looking at where Collette slept soundly against her bare chest. Y/n had undone her robe once more for skin-to-skin contact with the baby, something she liked to do when she was alone. It made her feel more connected to Collette somehow, and she found that Collette fell asleep easier that way. It was a lazy afternoon, there wasn't much Y/n needed to worry about—it honestly felt pretty perfect.
"She sleeps better this way," Y/n said by way of explanation.
"I believe it," Harry replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Y/n pointedly ignored.
"Where's Simone?" Y/n asked, still rocking.
Harry gestured behind him with his camera. "Downstairs watching a show. We agreed on two episodes before bathtime."
Y/n raised an amused brow at their daughter's negotiation tactics, but decided not to comment on it. "I'll come down in a bit. I still need to put her down and pump."
Grinning, Harry said, "You couldn't get out of that chair, could you?"
"It's a comfortable chair," Y/n said with a shrug, not wanting to let her husband know he was spot on.
"Oh, I know," he said. "I've fallen asleep in that thing more times than I care to admit."
Coming into the room, Harry carefully took Collette from Y/n, kissing her head before laying her down in the crib. Once she was settled and Y/n's clothes were righted once more, Harry reached a hand down to her. She let him help her up, even let him tie up her robe again, resigned to his fussing.
"You need to take it easy. The doctor said early labor is common with twins."
"I know, I am," Y/n reassured. "How can I do anything but take it easy when I have my own personal nurse?"
Harry looked at his wife flatly. "Ha. Ha. Now get your cute butt to our room so you can pump and then help me with bathtime."
"Simone's really quite reasonable—"
"She insists that I do it wrong," Harry said, genuinely confused by his daughter's antics.
Kissing his cheek, Y/n checked on the baby monitor once before leaving the nursery. "I'll be as quick as I can, then I'll show you how it's done."
Harry followed her out, heading for the stairs while Y/n went to their room. "Mum of the year!" he said before jogging down to Simone.
Too right, Y/n thought, a smile spreading across her face.
*.*
Geneva
"Mommy?"
"Yeah, babydoll?"
"How does baby sister get in your belly?"
Y/n's eyes widened as she looked down at where Maeve was pressed against her side. They were relaxing by the pool, watching from the shade as Harry tossed the other kids and splashed around in the shallow end. Maeve had joined in on the fun before, but she'd waded out of the pool a few minutes ago for a break from the sun. Her little cheeks were red, long brown hair stringy from the chlorine. Y/n brushed Maeve's hair away from her face as she tried to come up with an answer. Coming up short, she rested her hand on her protruding belly.
"Why are you asking Maevie?"
"Daddy said baby sister is in your belly," Maeve said, poking Y/n's baby bump with a sun-warmed finger. "But how did it get there?"
"You know...that's a great question," Y/n said, raising her hand to shade her eyes as she looked over to where Harry was waist-deep in the pool. His dark hair was plastered to his neck and shoulders in a curly tangle, water droplets glistening on his tan skin.
To this day, Harry was still the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. Now that they were stuck at home, he took his brief moments of alone time in the form of working out, but only after baking had gained him a few pounds. Y/n never minded, she loved his body any which way it looked.
Eyes dipping down to his waist and below, she definitely couldn't hide how much she appreciated his body now.
"Mommy!"
Shaking herself out of her stupor, she looked down at Maeve, who was clearly determined to get to the bottom of the baby in her mom's belly.
"Right. Sorry babydoll." Y/n hoisted Maeve onto her lap. "Mommy and Daddy...love each other so much. So...when mommies and daddies love each other, they...make a wish on a shooting star...for a baby."
"Really?"
Y/n tried not to laugh at her own ridiculous response as she nodded. "Of course. And then our wish came true, and in a few months, we'll have baby sister."
"Oh." Maeve seemed to think about it for a moment, a small finger on Y/n's belly. "And you wished for me and JuJu too?"
Y/n nodded, holding Maeve's cheeks in her hands. "Absolutely. We wished so hard we got twins!"
Maeve scampered back to the pool a few minutes later, calling out to Harry to help her put on her water wings so she could jump in the pool. Content to watch all the fun from her lounge chair, Y/n stayed back, smiling faintly at all the giggles and squeals of joy as Harry repeatedly tossed one child after another into the pool.
Now alone, she thought about Maeve's question a little more in-depth. As far as she and Harry were concerned, they were done having kids after the twins. Four kids was just the right amount of chaos, and things were finally getting back to normal—or as normal as they could be amid a global lockdown—after the separation.
Not that anyone else in their family seemed to be, but Y/n and Harry were surprised to find out she was pregnant again. At the time. Of course, in hindsight, there was a night when Harry and Y/n couldn't keep off each other. It had been after the first night they'd really spent together as a couple again, and after that, it was as if a dam had broken and Y/n and Harry were reliving their honeymoon phase.
But surprised as they were, they took it in stride. Both of them were nervous about Y/n having a baby in such serious circumstances, but they would take the proper precautions to ensure her and the baby's safety. They were ready for this, ready to do it all again.
"You know Maeve asked me where babies come from today?" Y/n asked later in the evening.
Everyone except for her and Harry were fast asleep, tuckered out from a long day of playing in the sun. Harry had just come back from tucking the twins in and singing them a song like he always did, and now he and Y/n were side by side in their shared bathroom as they got ready for bed.
"Did she? Wait—Can you help me?" Harry asked, gesturing to his red shoulders and back.
Y/n picked up the aloe lotion she kept around just for this reason and squeezed some into her hand and began spreading it over her husband's back. "Not in those words, but she asked how her baby sister ended up in my belly."
"We've never gotten that question, have we?" he mused. "What did you say?"
"That we wished on a shooting star," Y/n shrugged, then explained her short conversation with their daughter about how babies ended up in bellies.
Harry became quiet for a moment. He'd been listening as she rubbed lotion onto his shoulders, but this was different. No one else would've been able to notice his subtle change in demeanor, but Y/n did. She'd known him long enough to read every shift of his posture and line of his body.
"What is it?" she asked, turning him around to face her.
"I just...I just barely stopped short of wishing on stars to have all this again."
Things didn't immediately go back to normal when Harry moved back in. Y/n put on a good front for the sake of the kids, but it was awkward. Neither of them knew how to act around each other, and it took a few weeks for Y/n to trust that Harry was back for good. Even when they had to quarantine, she worried he'd check out, turn to his music for peace of mind. Harry knew all of his wife's reservations, of course, and he didn't blame her for having them. He'd left, that was a choice he made. At the time, he'd done what he thought was best for his family, but he knew now that he only put more distance between himself and his kids, his wife, and he'd regret every minute they spent apart for a long time.
"I love you, H," Y/n said, cupping his cheek in her hand. It was scratchy under her palm, as Harry had taken to being more lax about shaving during lockdown. "I—We would not be...here if I didn't want this, all of this, with you. You know that, don't you?"
He nodded, eyes closing for just a moment. Harry knew he would've been spending his days in a guest bedroom if Y/n wanted that from him. But they worked past their issues, were still working on them, in some ways.
"I know," he promised. "It just hits me sometimes how lucky I am to have you. Not just as a wife and mother, but you, Y/n. I can't—I couldn't handle a single moment without you."
Looking away, Y/n fanned her face, blushing furiously at the tears that welled in her eyes. "You know I get emotional at the drop of a hat, you ass."
Harry merely smiled, letting the somber moment pass. Taking her hands in his, he led her out of the bathroom. "Doesn't make what I said any less true."
Rolling her eyes, Y/n said, "Whatever. Let's go back to talking about how you played mermaids for two whole hours with Simone and Collette."
"I still don't really get it," Harry said, pulling back the fluffy comforter of their bed back. "The girls changed the color of their tails every two minutes. And why does a mermaid need to control fire? Talking to animals I get, but what good is fire underwater?"
Harry looked genuinely perplexed, but Y/n could only laugh. Her husband indulged in almost every one of his daughters' whims, and games where he had to pretend to be a mythical creature was no different. She wouldn't be surprised if packages filled with mermaid paraphernalia arrived in the mail within the next few days so that everyone could really get into character.
She didn't think it often, but right then, Y/n wondered what people would make of the Harry Styles pondering the continuity of his daughters' favorite pool game.
*.*
Natalia
Harry: At the grocery store. Need anything?
Y/n: Your dick, please.
Harry: So...is that in the same aisle as the condoms or...?
Y/n: Don't be mean. I need you.
Harry: That's why I'm going to the store, baby. You asked me to pick up snacks for you this morning for your cravings.
Y/n: I changed my mind. The kids are napping and/or playing in their rooms and/or watching tv.
Y/n: Come fuck me.
Y/n: Please???
Harry: As soon as I get home I'm all yours, baby. I promise.
Y/n sent an image
Y/n: You're really saying no?
Harry: Mama...
Harry: That's from the pregnancy shoot we did.
Y/n: Ass. I'm putting my clothes back on.
Harry: Don't you dare.
Harry: You really want me to abandon the cart? I was just grabbing the pizza bagels you liked.
Y/n is typing...
Y/n: Get the pizza bagels. THEN come home and fuck me.
Harry: Got it. Get ready for me, Mama.
Y/n: !!!
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hon3yteddy · 1 year
Text
꒰ things that make nct dream flustered 🍦 ꒱
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synopsis: flustered dream ? and they're all a bit pathetic in a cute way genre(s): established relationship, romance, fluff, stuff that could make you cry if you were just that tiny bit insane warning(s): insanity, cheese author's note: double post !?!?! i feel like my writing style is repetitive which puts me off
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for mark it's definitely pet names. things like “love”, “sweetheart”, "darling” and especially “baby” but it has to have the “y” at the end. normally you’d say them so naturally, not thinking too much about it, mark on the other hand is a mess. a simple question could be asked with the additional “baby” at the end and he’s praying for strength as he tries to answer with incoherent words. he'll always try to argue that he doesn’t like it, but he’s in fact proud of the fact that he’s simply yours. it’s adorable to say the least, the way he’s simply at the palm of your hands, compliant to your words just because of a simple word.
if renjun catches you staring, he’s over the moon. hearing a “pretty” slip out from your lips as you admire him. you’re shameless about it, not bothering to look away after you’ve been caught. it’s more embarrassing for him than it is for you. your gaze is so attentive and so soft he swears he’s blushing and on the verge of passing out. he’ll give you a “what do you want?” but never gets an answer as you carry on admiring his ethereal beauty. he was never one for attention, and having your attention just seemed to have more of an effect. renjun's got such a soft spot for you - he’ll never admit it though.
jeno is a dead man when you feel him, but not in that type of way. you’re simply just feeling him up out of pure curiosity. yeah, you’ve felt the man a lot but you can’t help but poke, pinch, squeeze at his muscles. you’re practically in awe of his build. obviously, you don’t like him for his body only. it's just fun to just squeeze his muscles every now and then and watch how he reacts to your ever so curious touches. you’re soft and careful, but tend to be calculative, eager for a reaction out of him. you like how he’s shy under your touch, the way he tries to ignore it all, but you can tell, anyone can tell that he’s enjoy it despite his want to not do so. jeno's fingers fidget, his face turns away from yours to avoid your gaze, sometimes you can feel him become tense as you drag your hand along his bare skin. be careful of the power you hold over him because he might just lose all sanity.
your compliments have got the lee haechan ascending into another galaxy. he’s not necessarily flustered by your side comments, he’s actually rather cocky about it, whispering for you to say some more or pretending to tuck his hair behind his ear and bat his eyelashes at you as a joke to hear you laugh. yet internally it's utter chaos, he’s on his knees in tears, screaming in pure joy. he definitely giggles about your kind words later, trying to remake the whole scenario just to feel something again. he could never let you see how much of an effect you have on him with your words. he’s a lot better when it comes to the banter you exchange on a daily basis so he’d treasure your words forever.
jaemin adores it when you become a bit whiny, not in a slap deserving way. he’s normally the whiny one, begging for attention, a kiss, a cuddle, so when the roles reverse he’s simply gone and under your command. you want to hold hands, he’s dropping everything in his hands for you; you want to cuddle, he’s diving into your embrace with no questions asked. he gets giddy when you ask him for the most simplistic of things. he adores how vulnerable and cute you sound, whining for his attention, outreaching your hand for him to hold. it’s even worse for his heart when you’re doing it half asleep, calling his name as you lay side by side, asking for a hug to nestle yourself in. jaemin would do anything you asked of him, anything at all.
if there’s one thing chenle would say he loves about you most, it’s got to be your laugh. he doesn’t care if you don’t like it, every time he hears your laugh it seriously takes his breath away. he hates the way you’ll try and hide it, he loves it so much, and he definitely loves to hear it when he’s the cause of it. he likes the one where you’re fighting for your life in tears, laughing your ass off at a joke he’s made. chenle takes pride in them every single time. he’s normally laughing with you, glancing towards your beautiful smiling face. that is, until you're laughing at him. then he’s pouting and shying away. but he could never be angry for too long seeing you so happy. if chenle could, he’d get you to laugh everyday, simply because he loves you that much.
anything can mess with this poor boy’s heart. You don’t even need to be there in jisung's presence to have some sort of effect on him. a simple text message gets his heart flatlining. texting you has got him using all of his brain power to send the perfect text only for him to regret everything he says. he can be a bit more confident through the screen, using how you can’t see him act embarrassing in the comfort of his room to his own advantage. yet a “good night <3” has got the 6ft grown adult rolling around his bed, kicking his legs, crying and screaming into his pillow awakening everyone else. it gets worse when you send a picture of yourself just because you can. the rest of nct might as well just prepare for his funeral at that point. He’s just a lovesick loser but you can’t help but love him anyway.
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jan 2023 © hon3teddy
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