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#SECOND FORM: love pangs
em1e · 9 months
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im sorry i cant stay silent any longer toji is so ugly to me
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An idea I have that’s itching my brain. Ex-husband!price, second chance trope? Strangely into this recently
Ex-husband!price who can’t help but call you every time he gets back from a mission and you who can’t help but pick up.
You’ve been divorced for a little over a year now. It wasn’t necessarily on bad terms but the relationship just couldn’t work anymore; with him constantly gone it felt as though he was more of a roommate, a stranger, than the man you loved.
You couldn’t take the loneliness and Price only ever wanted to make you happy, so he agreed to the divorce with the same amount of courage he had going into a mission.
“John?” You asked, answering the call after the third to make it seem like you weren’t waiting for him.
“Hey,” Price smiled immediately when he heard your voice. “I made it home.”
“Good. You’re not hurt are you?”
Price could feel the ache and throb on his body from the mission, especially on his side where he had hit the ground hard because of an explosion. A large bruise had already formed but he ignored it like every problem he had concerning himself.
Just like he had ignored you.
“I’m alright.” He sucked in his lips and cleared his throat. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”
You really shouldn’t. It’s not like you ended on bad terms necessarily, but you had never known someone to stay friends with their ex-husband before. You knew that these kind of talks might send the wrong message.
It might make one of you believe that there was hope for reconciliation.
“Oh…nothing much.” You kept it vague to deter further conversation and you hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way.
Price didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself even though he felt a pang in his chest while his throat tightened.
He shouldn’t call you anymore even if he missed your voice. Every call was like he was torturing himself, making himself remember what he lost because he couldn’t get his own head out of his ass.
He would’ve stopped after the first call if you hadn’t picked up.
“I just wanted to let you I was home.” He mumbled and you felt incredibly grateful that he wanted to do that.
You may be divorced but you still feared the day one of his men would come to tell you he was no longer alive.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, love.”
It slipped out but neither of you said anything. You both sat in silence, drinking up the presence of each other from the other side of the phone, across cities.
There were so many mixed feelings, all of which neither of you had the words to describe them.
“Goodbye, John.”
“Goodbye.”
When you were gone Price sat in the edge of his bed in the dark. The bed he once shared with you often went untouched, even by him as he couldn’t stand to lay in it alone, even if the mattress was better for his body.
His fingers played with the golden band chained around his neck subconsciously since he was unable to get rid of it.
A/n: take whatever this is lol won’t be a series but might have like a couple other little pieces
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chamomiletealeaf · 2 months
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how do you think the cod boys would react to you being on your period…. like i feel like a lot of those mfs wouldn’t let it stop shit … 😳🥰
Tbh I'm not into period sex or anything like that, but I think they wouldn't mind. I think Johnny would be the most into it though.
warnings: period, period sex, suggestive comments, mostly fluff
Johnny wouldn't mind the blood, as long as he gets to fuck you and make you feel good. He'd actually initiate it.
"You feelin' alright love?" He asks.
"Mm ok. Why?" You ask.
"Just curious. You cramping at all?" He asks, almost hopefully.
"No? Not really. A little achey, but, not too bad." You respond, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he's getting to.
He makes a dissatisfied grunt and pouts.
"What's going on? You want me to be in pain?" You laugh confusedly.
"No no not at all bonnie. I just- know what helps soothe the cramps best." He smirks and you roll your eyes catching on after a second.
"I mean, now that you bring it up, I am feeling a little something." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his neck smiling.
-
Gaz would be the sweetest, Price right up there with him. He would definitely love to lay on top of you like a weighted blanket giving you kisses and feeding you snacks. If your cramps got really bad, he would shyly suggest sex, only as a last resort.
"Honeyyyy" You sniffle, gripping onto his shoulder with him lying on top of you every time you get a pang of pain in your lower half.
"I know, I'm sorry sweetheart." Gaz coos, pecking your neck with little kisses while on top of you, his arms squeezing you tight.
"Hurts Gaz." You whimper.
"The meds aren't working hun? not the heating pad? nothing?" He asks.
You shake your head teary eyed.
Gaz takes a second to think and he gets noticeably shy, avoiding your eyes.
"Well, uh- I mean- there's another thing we could try. If you're comfortable of course." He mumbles.
"What is it?" You ask, desperate for any sort of relief.
"Well, uh-" He laughs shyly. "I heard that, well- I mean we could try having sex maybe- heard it can help with cramps. Only if you want." He stutters out quickly and you smile.
"Do you want to?" You ask, loving how cute he looks while embarrassed.
"I wouldn't be opposed no. Think it's worth a try- maybe?" He says, ducking his head into your neck, too shy to look you in the eyes after such a suggestion.
You lift his face up from your neck and kiss him.
"Help me get these off yeah?" You say, smile forming on his face.
-
Price would be just as sweet as Gaz, but more controlling, meaning he wouldn't let you lift a finger even to use the bathroom. Uh-uh, he's carrying you everywhere.
You accidentally bleed on his sheets and he wakes up not seeing you in the bed. He gets up, not noticing the stain at first until you walk back in with a wet warm towel.
"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't supposed to wake you. Just- go back to sleep." You tell him, embarrassed and panicked look on your face.
"What are you doing sweetheart?" Price asks, sitting up in the bed. It was pretty early, sun just rising so you both could see without the lights on.
"I- nothing just go back to sleep." You say, walking closer to the bed and pulling the sheets over the spot you stained his white bedsheets.
Price grabs the sheets and pulls them back, confused as to why you were so jittery and what you were covering.
When he pulls them back he sees a big red stain right where you were laying. You must have bled so heavily right through your pad/tampon that it woke you up. You look down at the warm towel you had embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
"Oh sweetheart.." He coos at you as he moves to stand up out the bedd, walking over towards you.
"I'm sorry John I'll clean it up. Just go back to sleep." You say, tears forming in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of hormones taking over your emotions.
"Honey come here." Price whispers, pulling you into a hug. "It's ok sweetheart no need to cry. C'mon let's get you in the shower hm? You want a bath maybe so you don't have to stand love?" He asks, rubbing your back while you cry to soothe you.
"But- the sheets." You sniffle into his chest.
"Love I don't give a bloody damn about the sheets. I'll take care of them while you just rest yourself now hm? Now answer the question, bath or shower?" He says, lifting your chin to look at him with his pointer finger and thumb.
"Shower, standing helps. Don't wanna sit in bloody water either." You say while Price wipes your tears.
"Ok sweetheart. I got you." He says, then picks you up bridal style.
"John I'm gonna get blood on you!" You squeal panicked.
"Oh hush- I don't care. You think I'm afraid of gettin' a little bit of blood on me?" He jokes reassuringly as he walks you to the bathroom.
He places you on the counter as he starts the shower.
"C'mon, give me those clothes darling. I'll wash them and the sheets. You'll have your favorite pajamas waiting for you when you're done. Just relax now hm?"
You strip in front of him and he lets his eyes wander. You look so beautiful even when you're miserable.
You hand him your clothes and he pulls you to him to kiss your forehead.
"And listen, if the shower doesn't help, I know another way to take all those icky feelings away." He smirks and you laugh.
"There we go. That's what I wanna see. Don't ever wanna see you feel bad baby."
-
Simon would be quiet, but always following you around right by your side just in case you need something. He's by your side more usual on your period, silently knowing what you're going through, so he makes sure he's always there and will do anything you ask immediately.
"Siiii" You whine.
He's immediately sitting up next to you on the couch to tend to you.
"Could you get me some tea please? Can't move." You look up pouting at him and how could he say no.
"Of course sweetheart." He says and immediately gets up.
He comes back in a few minutes with your tea to find you curled up in a blanket. He sets the tea down and quietly sits next to you and pulls you into his lap.
"Hey you ok lovie?" He asks and you stay silent, as if it hurts to even speak.
"Hey. What do you need baby?" He asks while brushing your hair from your eyes.
You turn into his chest and close your eyes.
"You wanna take a nap? I'll stay right here with you." He says and you shake your head.
"No? Ok hun. What do you want then? Can't give you what you need if you don't tell me sweetheart."
"Hurts." Is all you say, and you shift in his lap right on his cock and he grunts a little.
You look up at him with wide eyes hoping he'll get what you're saying.
"I know love, I know." He says. "You need me to rub your back? Show me where it hurts bun'."
You grab his hand and move his hands to your sore breasts.
"Aw they sore?" He gently squeezes and kneads your tits with one hand and you whine.
"Yeah. That feels good." You say, whimpering when he squeezes too hard.
"You need more love? Need me to fuck the cramps away?" He coos and you nod.
"Ok bun', let's get you on your back hm? All you gotta do is relax alright?"
You nod your head and close your eyes, letting Simon give you what you need.
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”
okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty
-
"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.
"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"
"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"
"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.
"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.
Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.
"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"
"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.
"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.
-
You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.
It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.
Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.
"Look who we have, soldat"
-
The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.
"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.
"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"
"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.
"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.
"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.
"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."
The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.
No.
"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.
Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.
"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.
"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.
"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-
"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.
"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"
As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.
"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.
"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.
"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"
"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.
"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.
"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.
you could kill him if you want.
Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.
-
"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"
"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"
"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"
"I did. This is after the sound proofing"
"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"
"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"
"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"
"I'M CUMMING JAMES"
"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"
"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"
"Can you blame him?"
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d-targaryenshoe · 2 months
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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
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As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months
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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 1
🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️
𝐀/𝐍: This was originally supposed to be pretty dark, but my mind clearly had other plans since I ended up writing a fluffy little fic about our favorite radio man lmao. I’ll probably write up the angstier fic, too, if this one does well.
Also, the Reader is AFAB, since that’s what I’m comfortable writing for as a girl myself.
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐,𝟏𝟏𝟓 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
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. . . 
The door to Alastor’s manor creaked open for you, and with a grin you took the spare key he gave you from the lock and swung the door fully open to push yourself inside in an attempt to escape from the late winter chill. 
It was a late January night, meaning the serene moonlight washed over the snowy landscape as early as 5:00 P.M., making it dangerous for a lady like yourself to be wandering the streets of New Orleans late at night. 
But it had been months since you really had to worry about anything like that, since you had Alastor by your side to look out for you. Such a sweetheart to you, and a bit of a mama’s boy, too, judging by the pictures set atop the mantle just above the unlit fireplace.
The mere thought of your ever-enthusiastic smiling companion made you especially giddy as you kicked off your winter boots and shrugged your coat off your shoulders, placing it upon the antler-adorned coat rack and skipping past the staircase into the living room. 
Flopping on the couch, you reached over for the radio while cuddling up with a blanket, excited to hear the well-awaited voice of the man who had altered the direction of your life – undoubtedly for the better – and you were practically kicking your feet like a flustered schoolgirl who had received your first confession as Alastor’s voice rang through the small device, loud and clear for you to hear. 
“Good evening, New Orleans!” You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiastic announcer’s voice that he normally used for his radio show, and the first time the two of you had met.
Though, Alastor was more relaxed around you nowadays, seeing no need to keep up the too-cheery facade his listeners had renowned and adored him for. You cherished moments when he was simply relaxed, content with a close-lipped smile and sitting beside you, whether it be reading, playing the piano with you, occasionally even pulling you into a spontaneous dance.
As you listened practically through the entire thing, you began to silently fantasize about your unpredictable yet darling radio host.
“Well, I’m afraid that’s all the time I have tonight, folks! I should be going, now. It's rather bad form to keep my doll waiting at home for me~,” He finished with a soft chuckle.
Blood rushed to your cheeks at that last little comment, practically cursing Alastor for his cheekiness, and he knew that you listened to his shows whenever you could.
"The au-diddly-dacity of that man..."
“Thank you for tuning in! See you next time~...” 
The radio returned to static for a few seconds, before a jaunty little tune began to play through the speakers, and it just so happened to be one of your personal favorites, one that you, no matter what mood, nor what you were doing, couldn't help but jump up and dance to.
And, of course, Alastor knew you loved it.
You sighed with content as you relaxed into his couch cushions, sinking into the blanket that Alastor had laid out for you since he'd found you constantly falling asleep to his voice on the radio when he returned home from work.
A pang of guilt thundered against your chest as your heart strained at the stinging reminder of how much of a burden you really were to Alastor. He was a good man, who helped you out when you were in a tough spot, you should at least repay the favor, right?
I should at least do something nice for him... He's been so good to me, even inviting me over for dinner more times than I can count.
He was the one who offered me that job at the radio station, hell, he even let me off early so I could listen to his show!
With a huff, and a newfound sense of energy, you got to work around the house, tidying up and lighting the fireplace, sparking a candle or two, and keeping the radio playing all throughout the thirty minutes you had spent cleaning, imagining the look on Alastor’s face when he returned.
You had even started on dinner, making a nice pot of venison soup, since it seemed to be his favorite. 
You pushed down the swell in your chest when you heard the doorbell ring, excitedly rushing over to a mirror and sweeping across your face and hair, making sure everything about you was in perfect shape. 
You opened the door, craning your neck a good amount to make eye contact with dark chocolate eyes staring down at you intently, almost illuminated in the moonlight, set against smooth caramel skin beneath a fluff of mocha brown hair.
“Hel-!” 
Alastor’s usual smile was smacked clean off his face at the sight of you standing before him, apron tied across your skirt with a few stains upon it, hair slightly amess but clearly put together.
"-Lo... My dear, what is the meaning of this?..." His tone seemed cheerful enough, if a bit bewildered as his eyes scanned your form once more, stopping upon the apron once again before returning his gaze to yours.
You looked so painfully, so heart throbbingly domestic that it nearly gave him a heart attack when he first opened the door. Such a submissive nature fed into other... primal desires of his that he wasn't fully prepared to delve into.
You smiled sheepishly up at him. "Why don't you come in? I've already started dinner," Alastor's trademark smile quirked his lips upward as he suddenly took your arm and headed inside, practically glowing as he headed straight for the kitchen.
"Oh, no, mister, you stay right there," you winked down at the radio host as you pulled him into a chair. "You've been working so late, let me handle dinner."
You truly piqued Alastor's interest when a familiar scent wafted past his nose, and he eyed you with surprise as you worked in the kitchen, pouring a hot, thick broth from the pot into a small bowl.
As you headed towards him, he tried his best not to absolutely melt in his seat as you served him with a smile, and he carefully took the steaming bowl from your hands. 
Venison, hm? Well don’t mind if I- 
AN: You know that one scene in Ratatouille where that critic takes a bite of his dish, and gets a flashback to when his mom used to cook for him? Imagine that but with Alastor. 
“Is it good?” Your soft, almost worried voice brought him back to reality, and as he met your hopeful, imploring gaze, Alastor nearly choked on his food as heat crept up to his cheeks, burning against his face and ears.
For just a moment, I thought I saw...
With wide eyes, you rushed over to him with a napkin, patting his back and looking over him with concern as his coughing ceased, and he took the cloth with a grateful, slightly wobbly smile. 
  “Was it really that bad...?” Your confidence wavered slightly as you stared down at Alastor, realizing the sudden proximity as electricity raced up your spine and lit your cheeks aflame.
Half-lidded cocoa-brown eyes searched the very depths of your soul, before he shook his head and murmured, "No, quite the opposite. I'm... I'm actually quite thankful for this, tonight." Though, it couldn't have come at a worse possible time, when he was finally squashing any sort of emotions he felt for you into the dirt, only for you to make them froth and rise to the surface yet again.
Why, he hadn't realized how long it had been since anyone had done anything like this for him!
Ah, his dear mama...
He recalled the last dish she ever made for him. Her house-famous Jambalaya that he had adored so much. It even managed to put his father in a good mood.
"A-Al? Alastor? Are you alright...?"
He hadn't even noticed that tears were streaming down his slim cheeks until he felt small droplets falling upon his lap.
"Oh, nothing. This... This all just reminded me of someone..." He shook his head and took his circle-rimmed glasses off his pointed nose, rubbing the fogginess off the glass as the gears turned in your head.
You raised an eyebrow. "Who...?" You then caught a glimpse of the photos set above fireplace just past the couch that faced away from the kitchen. Of course!
Immediate regret washed over you as you fretted over Alastor, apologizing meekly as you attempted to clean up the soup in front of him, but you were stopped as he gripped your wrist.
"I'm so sorry! I never meant to be such a burden, I just really wanted to do something nice for you, s-since you're always-"
"No, please, this has been a delightful surprise, darling." You froze at the pet name, heat creeping over your cheeks and tinging your ears a bright pink as Alastor released his grip upon your hand.
"You have never, never felt like a burden to me. I promise you that," he slid his hand from your wrist to your hand in an act of comfort, but it only served to make your face glow even redder.
"Now I'd like to finish the dinner you made for me. If you don't mind, of course," his usual cheekiness had returned when he spotted your slightly flustered face, and you nodded and returned to your seat promptly.
Alastor, being ever the chatterbox, resurrected the flowing conversation between you two for a good hour, as he recalled stories from his childhood, keeping you entertained throughout your dinner. Your laughter filled the hallway, your smile both wounding and freeing his heart, while you sat, mesmerized at his captivating storytelling and how he spoke with his hands, practically alight as he drank in each expression you gave him.
"Would you care for a dance, darling?" Alastor spoke up suddenly, the contents of his bowl completely gone as you eyed it. You shyly agreed as he smiled gently and pulled you into the living room.
Soft caramel brown hands wrapped around yours as Alastor's slender fingers held you close in a surprisingly tight grip against him, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, along with his rapidly beating heart despite his suave demeanor as he slowly danced along with you to one of the songs that had begun playing on the radio beside the fireplace.
Nothing but your dear friend's soft humming along with the sounds of the radio filled the silence between you in the moment, and you began to relax in his grip as you lazily kept up with his slow steps.
Put your head on my shoulder~
A slow dance between you two, with an occasional twirl as Alastor nearly swept you off your feet swept the minutes away, until the moon was well past the horizon and twilight fell upon the sky.
As he spun you around once more, a sudden gust of air swept past the pair of you, nearly blowing out the candle beside you.
Hold me in your arms, baby...
Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of a petite, elderly woman standing beside the doorway into the kitchen, watching the two of you intently, until her form faded from the door with a shimmer of light and a gentle smile.
Squeeze me oh-so tight, show me...
He gulped softly at the sight of the angel while you stared into his eyes, completely fixated upon his surprised open-mouthed stare as his gaze flickered from behind you to your lips.
You barely missed his darkening expression as you both began to sway slowly once again.
Show me, that you love me, too~...
"Would you like to stay the night, darling?" For the first time in his life, Alastor seemed unsure, maybe even nervous, as his dark brows creased together and his charming smile twitched at the corners of his lips. You smiled and reached up to smooth out the crease with your fingers.
You had no idea how he warred with himself, knowing that he'd be practically signing his soul away simply to be in your company.
Put your lips next to mine, dear~...
But... Perhaps this would be worth it.
Perhaps moments like these, when time slowed, where you both could block out the rest of the world and simply bask in each other's company would be worth the risk.
Won't you kiss me once, baby~?
Alastor had decided, right then and there as you stared up at him with nothing but adoration.
He'd have you. He had to. He was damned either way, but he'd storm the pearly gates themselves if he failed to drag you down with him.
Just a kiss goodnight, maybe...?
But, with immense relief, Alastor realized wouldn't take much persuasion as your eyes seemed to twinkle beside the flickering candlelight, and a gentle yet teasing smile played at your lips.
You and I will fall in love...
"Yes, I'd like that very much, Alastor."
. . . 
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Okay, I KNOW that 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' was released in the 50s, BUT LET'S PRETEND IT WAS THE 20s, OKAY???
Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this first post, I might write a part two if the people want one. Maybe Alastor headcanons?? Who knows...
Let's just see how far this goes lmao.
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leclercings · 23 days
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Crush | Charles Leclerc x Reader
Genre: Angst, Pining
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: You're in love with your best friend, Charles Leclerc, but he doesn't know it…
A/N: Unrequited love sucks. It inspired me to write this though. Hope you all like it!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Masterlist
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A plethora of outfits are casually thrown around your room. You sigh, trying to figure out what to wear. 
You want to text Charles so badly to get an opinion but you stop yourself from doing it. He is out with his girlfriend, and you don't want to disturb him. 
You feel a horrid emotion in your gut.
A pang of jealousy.
The emotion spreads across your entire being and you lie down on the bed angrily, not caring about the mess around you.
You huff, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts.
It's always him, isn't it?
Charles Leclerc. Your best friend.
You've loved him for over twelve years, yet you've always accepted the position of a wingwoman when it comes to his love life.
You've watched him switch girlfriends in the blink of an eye, you've analysed every single relationship that he's ever had, you've been a patient listening ear to his love life woes, and you've even set him up with your friends. You remember the name of every single girl he has dated, how they started and ended.
All because you want to be a supportive best friend.
But what about your own heart?
After a lot of contemplation, you choose a green sundress- the colour reminding you of his eyes, and beautiful eyelashes, and how when he looks at you, your heart skips a beat.
You snap out of your thoughts back to your room, looking around. You don't feel like cleaning up. 
Your phone pings with a notification. It keeps buzzing, and you try to find it among the stack of clothes everywhere. 
You feel a firm cool object in your hand, buried deep in the middle of your clothes. You check it excitedly, wondering if he has texted you.
You feel disappointed when you see it's from your Mom. She wants you to bring wine for today's lunch.
You try to calm down. You're acting like a teenager. You need to let go of him.
But you can't.
You see another notification.
You open your email. It's from Versace. You gasp. You had given an interview to intern at Versace as a Junior designer. 
You've been accepted. You let out a loud squeal.
As you go through the email, you feel so many emotions at once. You're excited as well as nervous. 
There's one catch though- it's in Milan.
Monaco is everything you have ever known. You don't know if moving to Milan for this would be a good idea.
You keep wondering about it as you get ready, wearing your dress. You finish up with your makeup and look in the mirror.
Today is Lorenzo’s engagement party. Charles will be there. So will be his girlfriend.
Another pang of jealousy hits you.
You don't recognise the person staring back at you. Maybe, just maybe, you need a break from all of this.
From your feelings. From Charles.
Milan would be a good change.
*****
You arrive at the Leclerc's home for the party.
Pascale welcomes you with the biggest smile on her face. She has always considered you her family. 
“Hello, dear,” she hugs you tightly.
You control your emotions. Nobody knows your good news yet, but you'll miss this warmth if you move to a new city.
“Hi,” you reply, giving her the wine you've bought.
As if on cue, your mom comes from the kitchen.
“Y/N!” She comes and hugs you tightly. It feels nice to be loved. You've been feeling a little drained these days because of your strong emotions but being with your mom makes it all go away in a second.
Love is a powerful emotion. We all crave love in some form or the other- wilting like a flower if you don't get it from the right people.
“Mom.” You speak, adjusting her messy hair. “We need to talk.” You whisper gently in her ear and she nods.
“Pascale,” You address Pascale, “Could I steal my mom for a moment?”
“Sure,” Pascale replies.
You and your mom go to the balcony. Your mom looks worried.
“What happened, dear?” She asks you.
“You remember I’d applied to Versace?”
Your mom bites her lip nervously, trying to figure out what you're talking about.
It clicks.
“Let me guess, you got the internship?”
You widen your eyes in surprise. How does she know?
She chuckles.
“You're the best there is, love. Of course you were going to get it.”
You sigh. “But it means I'll have to move to Milan.”
“You need the change, my love. I think it's for the best.”
When your mom echoes your own thoughts, you feel like it's alright to move away from Monaco for a bit.
You smile at her.
“Let's join everyone?” 
By the time you get back to the garden, you see Charles is there.
Your heart does a somersault. He's wearing a white shirt and khaki pants. He looks breathtakingly gorgeous. You notice the small figure standing beside him.
“Y/N!” He spots of you and comes to hug. You inhale his sweet scent. It's a little intoxicating. “This is Alexandra, my girlfriend.”
Alexandra gives you a soft smile.
“Hi Y/N, I've heard a lot about you.”
“Hopefully all good things.” You shake her hand.
“Yes of course. Charles admires you so much.” 
This makes you blush. You see Alexandra’s expression changing for millisecond before regaining her composure.
The lunch goes by smoothly. Everybody's happy and gladly celebrating Lorenzo’s milestone.
By the end of it, most people have left. It's just your family and Charles’s family.
You're all sitting in the garden, chilling. 
“Everyone!” Your mom calls out.
“We have a news to share,” she says, after a little bit of a pause.
You know what's coming. You shake your head at your mom who simply gives you a smile.
“Y/N got an internship at Versace!” She squeals loudly.
Everybody starts cheering except Charles, who stares at you, hurt.
You gulp. You hadn't told Charles about it. You had meant to- but he was so busy racing and then with his girlfriend that you never found the right time.
“Congratulations!” Pascale raises a toast, and everyone follows.
You give them a sad smile.
“I'll be moving to Milan in a few months…” You say, avoiding Charles’s gaze.
He crosses his arms. He gets up and leaves to go inside.
Your mom notices it and mouths you to follow him. 
You shrug. She gestures you again and you follow her instructions. 
There's a small hope inside of you. Maybe if you confess what you're going through, you'll feel a little better.
“Charles,” you go after him. He's probably going to his room.
“Charles, wait!” You say loudly, and he pauses just as he's about to close the door to his room.
“What, Y/N?”
“Charles, I'm so sorry.”
“Really?”
You nod.
“I thought we were best friends who told each other everything.”
“I know, I'm sorry. You were just too busy and I didn't want to distract you.”
“You, distraction? Oh come on.”
He leans against the doorframe- a gesture you find extremely sexy. Your heart starts beating faster as he stares at you with his beautiful green eyes. Ones that match with your sundress. Ones that match with nature.
“I'm just a little hurt that you didn't tell me about-”
You interrupt him with a kiss.
He pauses, pulling away, staring at you incredulously.
A split second later, his lips meet your again.
The kiss is passionate. Like a storm. Like two people with buried feelings that surfaced out after a long time.
He leans his forehead against yours.
“Shit,” You both say at the same time.
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deepouterspacecandy · 2 months
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Someone needs to kiss Abigail Anderson in the rain and I think that someone is you. 18+ only.
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I don’t think Abby and her dad ever had The Talk per se.
In his eyes, he always regarded her as an incredibly perceptive and intelligent individual. She had her nose in a book for most of her youth and, given that doctors raised her, she had absorbed most of the medical knowledge pertaining to matters of sex and procreation of her own volition.
Sexuality as a whole rarely came up between them because they scarcely found a moment to broach the subject.
The Fireflies were a diverse collective, and Abby was no stranger to the concept of same-sex relationships. Her father had faith in their trusting connection, assuming that it would be a catalyst for her to confide in him whenever necessary.
When Abby entered the WLF as an orphan, she found herself a family in the gym. Her trainers, personal chefs, and comrades were the individuals she formed the strongest bonds with. It was through observing their relationships that she learned the rest. Despite the cringe-worthy locker room talk she’d ignore; she remained grounded in her strong sense of identity. Her sole focus was on transforming her body into a lethal weapon, leaving everything else irrelevant.
Then she saw you.
The second you stepped through those gates with your group, you grabbed her attention. Although she had never helped integrate newcomers before, she fully committed herself to facilitating yours. From the moment you met, you formed an instant connection, and as weeks turned into months, you became inseparable.
It took her some time to understand what she was going through, then it hit her all at once.
In the crowded mess hall, amidst the chatter of comrades, you brushed against her to whisper something casual in her ear. The delicate touch of your lips against the shell of her ear and the tender warmth of your breath against her neck gave her goosebumps. She didn’t register what you said as your hushed voice overwhelmed her with a rush of heat.
She kept it a secret from you for a while. You brushed off your suspicions and attributed them to hopefulness, mainly because she was so straightforward about everything else.  
Abby spent many nights lying in her loft bed, gazing at the wooden panels above, plagued by the fear that her feelings were nothing more than loneliness and confusion. But then she’d recall the sensation of your whispered words in her ear, causing her heart to skip a beat and a dull ache to pulse between her legs.
As always, you beat her to the punch.
When you came out, it was during a late-night patrol with your squad. Seeking refuge from a nasty storm, you found yourselves holed up in an old barn. The group engaged in animated discussions about their desired post-war experiences, many of them sexual in nature.
As they directed the question your way, you playfully quipped that you’d be willing to part with a kidney just to feel the exhilaration of being lifted off your feet and kissed by the first gay woman to step foot in the stadium. You humorously mentioned that you would enjoy being spoiled with gifts, praise, and affection, but that you’d settle for someone to cuddle at the end of every day.  
Your crew mocked you for being too wholesome, but your confession set Abby’s body on fire. As she watched the candlelight flicker in your eyes, a pang of possessiveness washed over her.
Her heart sank at the idea of another woman becoming your future.
When you slipped outside to do a perimeter check, she followed you into the rain.
“Don’t fall in love with someone else,” Abby blurted.
“Shit, Abby. You scared me!”
“Promise me,” she begged, reaching for your hands.
Rain poured down relentlessly and drenched you both as drops of icy water seeped through her eyelashes to gather in the groove of her lips.
“Everything you said—I want it too,” she continued. “Please don’t count me out, okay? Love me first.”
As you closed the distance between you, your fingers instinctively reached for the collar of her jacket, toying with the zipper-pull beneath her quivering chin.
“Are you calling dibs on me, Abigail?” you teased.
Shielding you from the storm, she gently placed the hood of your jacket over your head before her hands moved to cradle your jaw. The deafening sound of thunder filled the air, making the ground beneath your feet shake.
Above the noise, Abby’s voice echoed.
“Can I?”
As you nodded for her to take you, the sky opened up.
Abby lifted you into her loving arms, kissing you dizzy as her sweet whimpers made the whole world fade away.
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tasteracha · 4 months
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a/n: my answer to the which member can deep throat your strap the best. it’s chan. the answer is always chan. afab!reader. <1k. smut - minors DNI.
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that chan loved being pegged wasn’t exactly a secret - it was written all over his face, his body language and his stature and the way he held himself. he knew what he wanted and was never afraid to ask you for it when he needed it.
that he was asking you to gag him on your strap, though? that came as a bit of a shock.
he had gotten down on his knees in front of you, kissing your thigh and asking with his eyes peeking through his lashes, making it impossible to say no. not that you would have, when even the idea of him choking on your cock was enough to send you into a dizzy spiral.
leaving him kneeling on the floor while you undress and hook the strap up to your hips was so hard. his eyes followed you out of the room, already hazy in submission as he waited so patiently for you. he was nothing if not a good boy, knowing his instructions even though you hadn’t said anything to him.
when you get back, wearing just your bra and panties and the strap, he’s kneeling in the same place, shifting back and forth like he can’t help himself. there’s a growing bulge in his pants that he ignores, knowing that he won’t get what he wants if he touches himself without asking.
he’s biting at his bottom lip, and when you finally approach him and cup his face gently in your hand he relaxes his mouth. his lips are reddened and wet, plump and already so wrecked - he looks divine like this.
“hungry?” you tease him, and he nods and nuzzles his cheek into your hand, his eyes fluttering back and forth between your face and the dildo that’s so close to his mouth. you let him have that one moment of comfort before you tighten your grip on his chin, thumb digging into the flesh of his cheek. “open.”
it’s a simple order, and he follows it beautifully. he opens his mouth, tongue lolling out as he makes a noise of excitement. his mouth is so wet, drool pooling up with every passing second that he keeps it open. you rest the tip of your strap on his tongue and he immediately closes his lips around it, suckling at it while he looks up at you.
only he could make this look so innocent.
you push in a bit further, feeling when he starts to tense up a bit. you move your hand to his hair, scratching at his scalp a bit to relax him, and your cock slides into his throat with little to no resistance. his eyes flutter closed as he swallows around you.
you pop out of his mouth, keeping your grip on his hair when he tries to follow you.
“my good boy,” you coo at him and he blushes under your attention, redness creeping up from his neck to his ears. “made for this, weren’t you?”
“yes,” he rasps out, clearing his throat a bit.
you’re a little breathless just from watching him. even though you felt none of the sensation, the way he looked under you was absolutely mesmerizing. you wish you could immortalize him like this, pliant on his knees with his swollen, red lips, just for you.
he shuffles his body closer to yours, slotting himself between your legs so his crotch was pressed up against your ankle. he looks up at you again, a silent question in his eyes.
“go ahead, baby,” you tell him, and without missing a beat he’s grinding against your leg and choking himself on your strap again. his hands wander up your legs until they’re secured behind your thighs, keeping you pressed to him as he chases his release.
crystalline tears were forming under his lashes, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like with mascara and eyeliner trailing down his cheeks.
another time.
you push a little farther into his mouth, and he gurgles around your cock, sending pangs of went through your entire body.
“god, you’re such a slut,” you pant out, just as affected as you would be if he has his lips wrapped around your clit. he looks up at you with wide, wet eyes, and you can see his throat spasm around the silicone as he digs his fingers further into your thighs.
he rocks his body against your foot, pushing himself further into your cock just so he could get off and it’s so sexy. he comes almost too quickly, spasming against you as he makes noises around you, muffled and indistinct.
he backs off and coughs, catching his breath before diving in for more and you can’t help yourself from falling to your knees in front of him before he could.
when you kiss him it’s a wet affair, strings of his spit connecting your lips together and it’s downright filthy but you don’t really care.
“you’re so good,” you mumble against his lips between kisses, petting every inch of him that you could reach. “you’re such a good boy, oh my god, i love you.”
“love you too,” he whispers through his wrecked throat. you jot down a mental note to make him some tea, later.
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hannyoontify · 3 months
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little stars - kwon soonyoung
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member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader
genre | fluff, newly est. relationship
word count | 2k with some change
synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before
warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference
notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful
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Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.
(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)
So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.
It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor. 
He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response. 
“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…” 
In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.
The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan. 
While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.
Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.
“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face. 
You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.
Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”
You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”
Soonyoung nodded sympathetically. 
“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.
“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.
(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)
Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.
You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan. 
“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow. 
Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”
Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” 
“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”
“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”
He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face. 
You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.
“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”
You snorted. 
“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.
“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”
“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”
“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.
Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”
His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.
Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”
“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.
You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. 
Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”
You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.
You thought your heart was about to burst. 
Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder. 
Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart. 
After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”
Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”
“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”
Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.” 
You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love
“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you. 
Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars. 
“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?
“I love you.”
Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet. 
You did. 
“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”
“Hm?”
“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”
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reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^
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em1e · 10 months
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!!!
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!!! hello mootie 👋🏻 how are u doin !!!
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Fourteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Angst, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Slight!Heartbreak, Begging, Ab!Riding, Throat Fucking, Oral Sex (m rec.), Sexual Aggression.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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Your eyelids fluttered open, the world gradually shaping into focus around you. Confusion, muggled by the drowsiness due to your utter exhaustion, fogged your vision for a moment, until it cleared to the soft glow of the room illuminating your intertwined forms--Mattheo’s presence still enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.
As you began to regain your sense of consciousness, a sudden surge of panic gripped you, tightening like a vice around your chest. Your eyes darted frantically, scanning the room for any sign of a clock or timekeeping device. The urgency of the moment bore down on you, the seconds ticking away in your racing heartbeat. Mattheo stirred, his awakening a slow unfurling of consciousness. His eyelids, heavy with remnants of sleep, flickered open, revealing the depths of his confusion. His brows furrowed, a silent question lingering in the lines of his face as he met your gaze.
In a groggy, half-asleep murmur, he asked, "What's wrong?"
Mattheo blinked a few long, slow blinks before his eyes, drenched in genuine concern, sought yours, searching for answers. As the realization of the situation slowly dawned on him, as he slowly comprehended your distress, his grasp around you immediately loosened, pulling away from you with a swift impulse.
"Mattheo, please, what time is it?" you implored, your voice laced with desperation as you tried to gauge the hour.
His eyes, still heavy with sleep, shifted to the clock across the room. Time seemed to stretch infinitely as his gaze met the numbers, and his eyes widened in shock. He whipped his head back to look at you, panic spreading through his eyes in the same instant that yours widened, both of you internally freaking out as the reality of what you'd done sank in.
"It's almost five in the morning," he said, his voice carrying the weight of realization, your pulse echoing in the tense silence that had now enveloped the room.
The pale light filtering through the window painted a surreal scene of dawn, a stark reminder of the night slipping away, carrying with it the consequences of your actions. The horror etched across both your faces underscored the need for swift action, but in that moment, you both were frozen, caught in the grip of shared regret and fear.
"Oh, Gods!" You finally said, leaping up from the couch, your mind racing with panic--the reality of the situation hit you like a tidal wave, and your thoughts spun in frantic circles.
Contemplations about what to tell Emily swirled through your mind, your heart hammering in your chest as you envisioned the countless possibilities. Creeping out unnoticed became your immediate mission, every step and breath need to be calculated in order to avoid detection. With your heart in your throat, you began to plan your escape, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.
As your fingers tightened around the fabric of your clothes, a sharp pang of realization gripped you like a vice--your hair carried the undeniable scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat from sleeping against Mattheo.
"Oh, Gods..." you stammered, your voice trembling with panic as you clutched your clothes against your chest. Your frantic eyes met Mattheo's, desperation written all over your face. "I-I'm fucking screwed...I..."
Mattheo, still struggling to fully awaken, swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, his hand raking through his messy, disheveled hair in a gesture of exasperation, the muscles in his arms tensing and contracting with each movement.
"You, what?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion. "What is it?"
You were trembling, every fiber of your being vibrating with fear. "My hair...I...I smell like-"
"Hey, it's alright," Mattheo, sensing your distress, gently interrupted, his voice steady yet comforting. "Calm down, Raven, okay? It's bloody early; you'll be able to sneak out without anyone even noticing. No one is awake before eleven on fucking Sundays around here, let's be real..."
His words were a lifeline in your moment of crisis, his calm demeanor offering a glimmer of comfort amid your rising anxiety.
But your overwhelming panic refused to subside. "I just...Emily will smell it on me, I'll have absolutely no excuse, she knows I've never...she knows I-"
"Take a shower." Mattheo's eyes softened with understanding as he cut you off again, his mind racing for a solution. "Just...just have a shower, wash the smell off and tell her you fell asleep in the library...if she catches you while walking in, tell her you used the prefects washroom because you didn't want to wake her..."
His words hung in the air, a liferaft amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. Take a shower, Mattheo had said, a flicker of relief trickling through your veins, pushing back the tide of panic that had threatened to overwhelm you as his suggestion sunk in.
Okay, deep breaths, you coached yourself internally, your racing mind slowly beginning to steady. Shower, wash it off, and a plausible excuse...the library, the prefects' washroom. It could work. It's believable.
With each exhale, the grip of panic began to loosen, replaced by a fragile sense of hope. Mattheo's idea, simple yet effective, became your main focus now, a plan to navigate the storm. You released a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, feeling some of the tension seep away. In that moment, you clung to the belief that maybe, just maybe, you could salvage the situation and keep your secret safe. The shower suddenly seemed like a sanctuary, a place where you could wash not only the physical traces of the night but also the lingering fear that had settled deep within your bones.
"Yeah...yeah, that might actually work," you said, your voice laced with tension. "Can...can you show me to it...?"
Mattheo parted his lips, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes at your question, the corners of his lips working hard to fight off an arrogant smirk. However, sensing your lingering tension and stress, he decided to skip the teasing in a surprising act of understanding.
Instead, he simply nodded, his expressions stoic and almost empathetic, and with a gentle motion, he directed you towards the washroom, silently acknowledging the unspoken fears that weighed on your shoulders.
As you stepped inside, a sense of tranquility enveloped you. The space was adorned in calming earthy tones, from the soft beige walls to the rich brown accents of the wooden cabinets. The ambient lighting, casting a warm, golden glow, lent an air of serenity to the room. The focal point was the walk-in shower, a sleek and elegant structure with transparent glass walls that made the room feel even more expansive. The shower's interior was fitted with gleaming chrome fixtures, accentuated by a tiled seat in bench, giving you a perfect place to sit and contemplate your questionable life choices, should you have had the time to do so.
So many thoughts swarmed your brain at this moment, watching as Mattheo padded toward the shower, turning it on and adjusting the water temperature for you--part of you cursed the Slytherin students, why was it fair they got private dorms, laced in luxury like this?
As you stepped closer to him, the nerves inside you intensified, manifesting as a persistent tremor in your hands. The reality of the situation washed over you anew, your palms clammy, and your heart hammering in your chest. The gentle sound of running water filled the room, its rhythmic flow serving as a reminder of the passage of time, urging you to act swiftly.
Sensing your returning panic, Mattheo veered closer, stopping in front of you as he met your eyes. Time seemingly stalled as he allowed his gaze to travel over your body, taking your clothes from your hands and placing them down on the counter before he met your eyes again, his gaze seeking permission before he reached out, hands finding your waist and tugging down your skirt. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, a touch so delicate yet electrifying that it sent shivers down your spine.
You felt your pulse quicken in response to his confidence and strength, unable to ignore how his movements flowed with ease, how he seemed so bloody in control, just as he always did--his every movement deliberate and reassuring.
You swallowed the jump of anxiety in your throat, unable to deny that being with him created a paradoxical sense of safety amid the chaos. Despite the fact that your life outside these walls was seemingly careening out of control, Mattheo's presence was a grounding force, a steady anchor in the storm.
"Might as well join you, yeah?" He murmured as he began undressing. "You don't seem to do very well under pressure, Raven...I'm worried you'll just stand there all day staring at the floor instead of actually fucking showering."
Your heart raced as you watched him shed whatever was left of his clothes, revealing the entirety of his physique that was utterly mouthwatering, for a lack of better words. His body was a canvas of scars, each one a testament to altercations fought and challenges surmounted. As your eyes traced the lines of his chest, your gaze was drawn to the stories etched onto his skin, mingling with the striking contours of his abs.
His figure was far from flawless, yet it held a raw, captivating beauty that transcended physical perfection. The scars spoke of resilience, and in their midst, his sculpted abs stood as a testament to his enduring strength. A mixture of desire and reverence washed over you, a profound appreciation for the strength that lay beneath his skin. You licked your lips, your body responding to the allure of both his physical form and the unspoken tales written across his flesh.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Mattheo..." you whispered, hiding your grin. "Sounds like you just want to shower with me."
Mattheo stepped into the shower, the water running down over his skin, and held out a hand to you. You took his outstretched hand, closing your eyes as he pulled you in close to him under the steaming hot water. The feeling of his skin against yours was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.
"Of course I do," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress against your cheek. Your entire body tingled as his hands roamed over your back, massaging the knots that had formed there as a result of your stress and anxiety. "I want to do a lot of fucking things with you, Raven..."
"Yeah?" You melted into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he worked out the tension in your muscles. "Like what?"
"Like kiss you here," he murmured, his lips grazing against your neck. "And touch you here..." his hand slithered down your side, curling around to your ass, gripping a possessive palmful--a low groan escaping his lips as he did. "I want to give you pleasure you've never known...pleasure you'll never forget..."
"Mm." His words filled you with a sense of calm, the comfort of them washing over you like a warm blanket. You leaned into him even more, running your hands through his damp hair, loving the way it felt between your fingers. "You already have..."
"Not enough." Mattheo's muscles tensed against you, teeth nipping your earlobe. "Not even fucking close to enough, princess..."
For a few minutes, the two of you just stood there in silence, letting the hot water wash away the sweat, the tension, the anxiety surrounding the past few weeks. You were lost in the feel of him, the way he moved against you, the sound of his breathing in your ear.
Eventually, though, he pulled back, his hands cupping your face as he looked down at you with an intense expression.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice low and urgent, his dark eyes pouring into yours as though he could give you parts of his own strength, parts of his own resolve. "Everything will be okay, no one is going to find out...and besides, this...this is over...so there's nothing more to be worried about...you're just my tutor after you step out of here, that's it..."
You nodded silently, the weight of his words settling over you. There was a pang of fleeting sadness, a desire for this moment to linger even though you knew it couldn't. Mattheo's arms encircled you, his touch firm, almost protective, as if he was shielding you from something more than hypothetical prying eyes. The reassuring spell that were his words seemed to erase some of the burdens that had weighed you down.
With anticipation hanging thick in the air, the shower head jets pounded against your skin while streams trickled between your bodies. Mattheo, seemingly composed, spun you around and grabbed a cloth, meticulously rubbing a scented soap bar onto the fabric, lathering it with methodical precision. And then, before you could even realize what the fuck was happening, he began washing your body, his movements deliberate and controlled, covering every inch of your skin with his efficient touch.
You closed your eyes, letting your mind drift away as you surrendered to the sensation of his practiced hands, ignoring the complexities that screamed beneath the surface. As he finished washing you, the water cascading down your skin and the scent of the soap permeating the air around you, he pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You sighed as he shifted your hair over your shoulder, grazing his lips against your neck as his hard, insistent cock pressed against your back. The sensation of his entirely naked body pressed against yours ignited a heat within you, a fervor you hadn't ever known before. A soft moan escaped your lips as he teasingly nipped at your earlobe, his hands firmly gripping your hips, creating an electric connection that sent shivers down your spine, even amidst the scorching heat of the shower.
"Matty..." you mewled, your head spinning as it fell back against his shoulder, fingers trembling as your hands found his, still tightly holding you against him. "Fuck..."
Mattheo huffed, his hands leaving your hips to roam over your body as you squirmed against him, electricity sparking through your veins and he cupped your tits, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, his breath a hot pant against your ear.
"If you want something, you'll have to ask for it nicely, princess..." he teased, his lips grazing against your pulse. "We said last night was the last time...didn't we?"
"We did..." you let out a breathless laugh, his teasing only fueling the overwhelming heat between the both of you. "But one more time can't hurt, can it?"
Mattheo grinned against your neck, his large, firm hands slowly moving back down to your hips.
"Filthy little thing," he murmured, fingers slipping lower, trailing cautiously between your thighs. "Tell me what you want, Raven..."
You groaned in frustration, your mind clouded with lust as he teased over your mound, one finger brushing against your clit, only briefly, but with enough pressure to send a jolt of pleasure through your limbs, melding your body against his, his cock twitching with need behind you.
"I...I-fuck..." you whimpered, almost embarrassed at how badly you wanted him, your mind sparking with lust for the power of his body. "I want to ride your abs..."
"Fucking hell...just when I think you can't surprise me any fucking further..." Mattheo groaned, squeezing you with enough force to illicit a squeal from your throat, his teeth sinking into your neck and undoubtedly breaking blood vessels before he released you and gripped your wrist, tugging you toward the tiled bench. "Take me...use me, Raven, I'm yours to fucking use..."
His words slammed your chest like a fifty pound brick, your entire body vibrating in place as he released you and turned to lay down, his lean body tensing and muscles rippling with each movement--your thighs screaming in desperate fucking need at the sight of him as he settled there on his back--his thick erection pressing against his belly, his abs glistening with diamond droplets, his eyes urging, daring you to come closer.
"Don't be shy now, little slut..." he teased, brushing his wet curls back from his forehead, that perfect smirk painted across his lips. "Come and fucking get it..."
Your feet carried you closer, lost in the pull of his eyes, climbing up onto the bench, body trembling as you straddled him once again, your heart racing with anticipation. Mattheo's hands immediately moved up to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples until they hardened against his touch. You moaned softly as he played with you, your hips grinding instinctively against his hard, wet body.
With a moan, you began to rock back and forth on top of him, the water cascading over both of you as you moved. Mattheo's eyes were locked onto yours, a dark fire burning in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine.
"Fuck-you're so fucking sexy," he whispered, his hands trailing down your body until they found your hips, aiding you in moving against him. "Look at what I do to you...the power I fucking hold over you and I haven't even fucked you..."
You shuddered at his words, silently acknowledging them in your head, knowing that what you were doing right now was unlike anything you'd ever fucking imagined you be doing, making yourself cum from grinding on his fucking body--ready to reach your high without him even having to touch you. It was a moment of silent realization, forcing you to acknowledge your desires. That's how much you desired this man, that's how much power he held over you. He was right, he was always fucking right. You were helpless to fight it, helpless to resist.
"Fuck..." the pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely. You couldn't help but moan loudly, the sound echoing off the steamy walls as Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin, leaving deep red marks in their wake. "Gods, Matty...shit..."
The water fuelled the heat against your skin, steam rising up around you like a lingering ghost. Droplets dripped from your hair, running down your body. Your skin flushed with exertion, all your focus locked on the messy haired, complicated man sprawled out below you, his dark eyes piercing into yours, his gaze darkened with lust and his lips parted in utter fascination.
"Yeah, you like that, baby?" He growled, the muscles in his abs tensing underneath you, intensifying the sensations coursing through your limbs, his hands trailing up your sides. "You like using me like this, don't you? Using me like I fucking used you..."
"Y-yes, fuck..." you mewled, your lungs sputtering as Mattheo squeezed your breast with one hand, the other moving back down to your heat, bringing his fingers to your clit. You moaned, far louder than you intended, head falling back as the world around you slipped away, your only focus being the electric pleasure wrought from the possessed man beneath you. "Gods, I love your abs, Matty...I fucking love your body..."
"Yeah, yeah you fucking do..." Mattheo's voice left his throat in a growl, his movements becoming more precise and focused. His muscles flexed and rippled beneath you as he brought you closer to orgasm. You cried out as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body shuddering with ecstasy. "Remember this...remember it when some other stupid prat asks you out...remember it when my brother hits on you...remember it when you're alone at night and fucking thinking of me..."
"Oh, fuck...I-I..." whatever you were going to say was abruptly cut off as your orgasm charged you, banging at the door and demanding to be let in, your body trembling and convulsing, eyes rolling. "I'm-I'm going to cum, Matty..."
"Did I say you that you could?" Mattheo hissed, the words spat through barred teeth, his grip on your breast tightening, eliciting another gasp of pleasure from your lips. "You know what I want to fucking hear, princess..."
As his abs tensed beneath you, you felt your body climbing higher towards orgasm. The pleasure within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, its ferocity almost overwhelming to the senses.
"Oh, Gods," you gasped, voice torn. "Please! Please let me fucking cum, Mattheo..."
"Shit..." Mattheo continued to stroke your clit with expertise, using just the right amount of pressure and speed to keep you on edge and gasping for more. You felt your body shudder and writhe above him, waves of pleasure rippling through you as he brought you ever closer to the brink. "One last time, Raven, cum for me...fucking cum for me...."
As Mattheo's fingers sped their pace, working furiously against your most sensitive spot, your entire body tensed for a few seconds before waves of intense pleasure coursed through your veins, wracking your sanity at its seams.
Unable to comprehend it, you screamed. "Fuck...fuck, yes..."
Every muscle in your body clenched and all thoughts were obliterated from your mind as you were consumed by the delicious sense of release. As your orgasm reached its peak, Mattheo's fingers never stopped their relentless assault, drawing out your pleasure with every passing second. The euphoric sensation radiated throughout your body like ripples in a pond, your back arching and your nails digging into the strong muscles on Mattheo's chest as you rode out your orgasm, collapsing down against him once you had.
"Raven..." he whispered, his voice shredded with desire, hips bucking up against you. "Get on your fucking knees for me."
Your stomach leapt with excitement, not needing a millisecond to contemplate your next actions as you climbed off him and positioned yourself on your knees in front of the bench, warm water cascading around your skin, washing away the remnants of your orgasm as Mattheo rose to his feet, fisting his throbbing cock with one hand while the other gripped your hair, urging your parted lips toward his length, twitching in anticipation and glistening with precum.
His salty taste coated your tongue as he slowly thrust into your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours for a even singular second. You could feel the excitement building within you once again as you began urging your head back and fourth along his shaft, revelling in the feeling of his smooth heat between your lips, savouring the feeling for as long as you could.
Gods, just to have him in your mouth again was enough to grind your thighs together, sore clit swelling for more--groaning, you clutched his thigh for balance, bobbing your head, swallowing inch after inch with every dip of your neck.
"That's it." Mattheo's fingers dug into your scalp, the familiar sweet sting making your eyes water. He surprised you with a sharp thrust, pushing further into your throat, and you wailed--muffled by his length as he drove deeper and deeper. "That's it--fuck--listen to you. You can't get enough of this cock, can you?"
You couldn't respond--he was slamming into your mouth. Tears brimmed your eyes, and you folded your lips around your teeth, sucking hard against him.
He growled and ripped you from his length, holding you by your hair. "Answer me when I ask you a question."
"I-I can't," you whined, shame searing your skin, "it's never enough..."
"That's right, that's fucking right..." he sank into your throat again, hips snapping with fierce, angry strokes. "You're a filthy little slut. Desperate to fucking please me...desperate to be mine, even though you're ashamed to fucking admit it..."
The pulsing at your tongue became desperate, rapid--he was close. You moaned in agreement, hoping it was enough to satisfy him--because, after all, he was right. A wave of shame engulfed you, crashing over your conscience like a relentless storm. How could you possibly want someone so inherently opposite to everything you believed in?
He embodied a carefree, easygoing lifestyle, a man unburdened by the constraints of education or goals. His rough edges and rebellious spirit clashed with your meticulously planned world of ambitions and studies. He was the epitome of trouble, a stark contrast to everything you should have been attracted to. And yet, here you were, time after time, inexplicably drawn to him, your desires defying all fucking logic and reason.
Seething with pleasure, Mattheo's hips thrashed, and he yanked your head free, holding it still while he savagely fucked his fist.
"Beg for my cum." His voice was ragged, he shuddered as he held off his peak. "Beg for it-fucking slut."
You whined. "Please give me your cum, Mattheo, please!"
"Fuck, yes," he hissed, "fuck--"
A deep moan choked in his throat and he sputtered your name, his cock twitching as it shot jets of white cum onto your tongue, the salty taste of his release spilling out over your palate as you swallowed it down greedily, savouring the taste as he held you there, his head bowed and chest heaving in the wake of his climax, until he had seemingly gathered himself and finally released you.
As you pulled yourself up to your feet, Mattheo met your eyes, his breath still coming to him in shallow bursts as he regained his footing in reality. Silence hung heavy between you as you both stepped out of the shower without exchanging another word, the air thick with unspoken emotions and the weight of the agreement you had tacitly made. Another shared glance passed between you, a wordless acknowledgment of the finality of this moment.
Your hands trembled slightly as you dried yourself off, the soft fabric of the towel absorbing both water and the remnants of your shared intimacy. Your mind reeled with the passing moments, how every touch--every movement was laced with a bittersweet awareness, a bittersweet acknowledgement that this was the last time. The last time you'd feel his skin against yours, the last time you'd share a kiss, taste the salt of his lips, among the salt of other things.
Dressing in the quiet aftermath, you fought to steady your breath, grappling with the storm of emotions inside you. It was a struggle to keep your composure, to suppress the ache that had settled in your chest. Each article of clothing you put on felt like a barrier, a shield against the vulnerability that threatened to consume you. Mattheo's presence in the room was both comforting and agonizing. His body, once so intimately close, now seemed miles away. As you caught his eyes for a moment, there was a flicker of something, a mixture of regret and longing, mirroring your own internal turmoil.
This was it. The final chapter in a story you had never intended to write, a tale of passion and connection that had defied the boundaries of reason.
As you reached the door, you spun back around to face him, and your eyes briefly flickered towards an astronomy book seated on his desk--a puzzling sight, since you knew he had little interest in stars, or studying, for that matter. It was a stark reminder of the disparities between your worlds, a tangible representation of the divide that had always existed. Yet, before you could dwell on the thought any further, his voice cut through the air, drawing your attention back to him.
"See you Wednesday…for tutoring," he said, his tone steady and businesslike, as if the intimate moments shared in the shower were but a distant memory.
With a nod, you mustered a weak smile, concealing the storm of emotions within you, and replied, "Yeah, Wednesday."
The finality of his words hung in the air, a reminder that your relationship was now confined to the realm of academia, a reality you couldn't escape. As you made your way towards the door, you stole one last glance at him, the man who had turned your world upside down in the span of a few stolen moments. With a heavy heart, you stepped into the hallway, leaving behind the echoes of what could never be.
————————
Chapter fifteen->
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runnning-outof-time · 4 months
Note
This is for your 3.5K follower celebration (congratulations!!! 🎉🥳). I would love to see the prompt “Come to bed” with Tommy. Congratulations again I love your writing!!
Thanks so much for your kind words and for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write this. I hope you like what I did with the prompt you chose! I’ve also began to employ my ‘less descriptions’ attempts here. It’s not everywhere just yet, but hopefully I’m doing it correctly. Baby steps, y’all. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!
Come to Bed
Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: smoking
Word Count: 1026
Summary: (Y/N) goes down to the shop floor late at night to find Tommy still knee deep in work. When he won’t put the papers down, she decides to find a happy middle ground.
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It didn’t come as much of a surprise to (Y/N) that Tommy wasn’t on his side of the bed when she rolled over to it. But that didn’t mean that the emptiness didn’t make her sad.
It has to be late, she thought to herself as she threw the covers to the side and got out of the bed. She then grabbed her robe from its hook on the wardrobe and pulled it on to cover the slip she’d been wearing.
She walked down the stairs and through the home, coming to the double doors that were still open. Tommy was sitting at one of the tables on the shop’s floor. There were papers strewn about on the table before him, and it looked like he was in the middle of looking one over.
“It’s late, Tom,” (Y/N) decided to speak up after she’d been watching him for a few moments. Tommy’s eyes flicked up and found (Y/N) the second she started talking.
“I know,” his answer came as a mumble due to the cigarette that was perched between his lips. He took it between his fingers before looking over at his wife, “I have work to do.”
“The work can wait.”
“It can’t. It needs to be done.”
“There’ll be time tomorrow.”
“Love…” he trailed off with a sigh, tipping his head slightly to the side as he paused for a moment, “I have to have this…”
“Come to bed, Tommy,” she cut him off, a pleading look in her eyes.
This look put Tommy between a rock and a hard place. He didn’t want to say no to his wife, but he had so many things to figure out for the derby day that was quickly approaching. “I can’t. Not yet,” he finally told her, feeling a pang of pain in his heart when he saw her shoulders drop. “Why don’t you go back up?” he suggested then.
“I’m not. Not without you,” she answered, frowning as she finished speaking.
“It’s gonna be a bit, (Y/N),” he reminded her.
“I don’t care,” she didn’t budge.
Tommy blinked a few times as he kept his eyes on her. He knew that it’d take more effort to change her mind then it would to just roll with her decision. (Y/N) kept her eyes on him, watching to see how he’d respond. She wasn’t going to be returning to her room without Tommy in tow. He’d been with her long enough to know that.
A few beats of silence passed before Tommy motioned to one of the empty chairs with the hand he’d been holding the cigarette in. “Have a seat then,” he said to her, nodding towards the chair with his head also, hoping that his decision would appease her and that he could finally get back to working.
“Don’t mind if I do,” (Y/N) chirped in response, a smile forming as she moved over to the side of the table he was sitting on. “Move out a little bit,” she instructed him.
He sent her a confused look. “What are you…”
“I want to sit on your lap,” she cut him off, crossing her arms. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her, wondering why she was being so particular. “I refuse to sit anywhere else, so move it, Mr. Shelby.”
With a breath of a laugh, Tommy gave into her demands, pushing his chair further out before leaning towards the table to snuff out the cigarette in the ashtray. (Y/N) waited until he was sitting properly again before she took her seat sideways on his lap. She hooked her arms around his neck and wasted no time in resting her cheek against his collarbone.
“Good?” he questioned.
“Very,” she answered, exhaling a sigh of content.
And they sat there like that, a comfortable silence falling around them as Tommy got back to work with figuring out the possible wagers and scenarios that could occur at the derby.
(Y/N) was fine sitting like she was for a little while, but then she started to become bored. Not to mention she was still sleepy. So she lifted her head from his collarbone and tucked it into the crook of his neck. Finding his exposed skin rather quickly, she began placing feather light kisses to it, hoping that her doing so would take her husband’s mind off of work.
“Getting tired yet?” she whispered in his ear after she’d placed a trail of kisses up towards it.
“No,” his answer came like a breath. (Y/N) couldn’t quite discern if she’d gotten under his composure or not.
“Will you come to bed with me?”
“It hasn’t been long since you came down.”
“It’s been long enough,” she insisted, a yawn slipping from her lips after she was finished speaking.
Tommy chuckled at it. It was becoming apparent that sleepiness was coming over her. He wanted nothing more than to go to bed with her this instant, but he needed to make sure his plan was air-tight before he called it a night. “Just a little while longer,” he told her. She let out a soft whimper, but ultimately nodded and rested her cheek on his collarbone again.
Some more time passed, enough so that Tommy was ready to finally call it a night. He set the paper he was reading down and made his final marks on it before capping the pen and placing it on the table. He was about to tell (Y/N) he was finished when he heard the softest snore come from his right. Upon turning his head, he found that she was asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
“Couldn’t wait, could ya?” he questioned aloud, even though he wasn’t talking to anyone. He then slipped his one arm under the bend of her knees and the other behind her back. He stood from the chair slowly, making sure that he didn’t jostle her awake. “Let’s get you to bed, eh?” he said to her as he made his way through the shop and up to their bedroom.
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*tags in reblogs so hopefully they get sent out.
MASTERLIST
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margowritesthings · 6 months
Text
BITE ME
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pairing: Vampire!Arthur Morgan x Human!f!reader word count: 4091 words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, piv intercourse, fingering (r receiving), biting and blood play, vampire feeding authors note: happy halloween my loves! this is a day late, but time isn't real anyway so we can all just pretend it is yesterday... right?? anyway, this au is now living rent free in my mind. i'm obsessed.
taglist:@cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries@delilah-grimes@mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i @sickvictorianangel
beta read by @cowboydisaster, divider by @saradika
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The wooden panels nailed to the broken windows of the manor allow for tiny slats of moonlight to invade onto your skin, bathing you in a white glow. Peering through the gaps, you can see the distant campfire those bastard Pinkertons set up down by the swamp, but you know they’re surrounding you, boxing you into Shady Belle like fish in a barrel. 
It’s been three days of a stalemate, the Pinkertons keeping their distance, brave enough to come with guns and firepower but just cowardly enough to not advance towards the monster they’ve heard only legend of, lest he rip their throats out and drain their life away. No, they’d rather wait around until they can drag his starved body out and be hailed heroes.
That “monster” sits mere feet away from you leaning against the wall, pale skin paler still, his chin tilted upwards as he fights the weight of his own skull. It’s killing you, watching your Arthur grow weaker by the hour. Three days of hiding out in Shady Belle, unable to leave for fear of being hunted for sport, but it’s been much longer since he last fed. They have you trapped, completely and truly. If Arthur held even half his usual strength, it would have been so easy to escape. He’d have overpowered them in seconds, no matter their numbers or firepower. But for that, he’d need to feed on the blood of another, which has made things much harder.
You try to relax your worried features when you see him start to wake, rubbing the crease out from between your eyebrows formed by the frown you hold whenever you watch him sleep, too scared to look away in case he stops stirring. 
“Arthur…” You whisper on an exhale, quickly moving to sit beside him on the little bed. As always, his skin feels like marble, cold enough to seep through his shirt and scatter goose pimples over your arms. You’re used to the cold, what you don’t like is the thin layer of sweat coating him. Vampires shouldn’t sweat, but they also shouldn’t go so long without feeding, and the thought of this being a symptom of time running out terrifies you more than any number of monsters out camping in those woods.
“Hey, sweetheart…” Arthur shuffles to make room for you, guiding you to rest your head on his hard chest. There’s normally more muscle here cushioning you from his ribcage, but with Arthur so sick you can feel every bone beneath you.
“You get any sleep?”
There’s always the option to lie so he worries less, but Arthur knows you too well for that, so only the truth will have to do.
You shake your head, “Was keeping watch. They haven’t moved, think they’re still shit-scared of you, actually.” 
Absent-mindedly, Arthur’s hand gravitates to the top of your head, stroking your hair in such a way that sends tingles down your spine. Even now, in the midst of perhaps the most danger you’ve ever been in together, his very touch has the power to calm you instantaneously. 
He huffs a laugh, though you notice the slight wheeze to his breath when he does and another pang of worry hits you, “Course they are. Call themselves goddamn hunters, couldn’t catch a cold in Colter…” A pause, where you fill the silence with that tiny little laugh you’ve barely been mustering lately, then, “You should get some sleep, darlin’.” 
“Not tired.” You protest, almost childishly, burying yourself further into Arthur’s chest. In truth, you’re exhausted, and even though he already knows it, you won’t admit it. You can’t tell him that you’re too scared to fall asleep in case you wake up alone, that there’s no point anyway because nightmares of him withering away to nothing here beside you will drag you back awake soon enough. 
You both know this can’t go on for much longer. Something has to be done, and you know you have to be the one to do it. It’s just the convincing… 
“C’mon, baby…” He starts, but you won’t hear it. You’re not going to sleep. You’re going to fix this.
“You have to feed on me.” You blurt out, glad to be nuzzled into your beloved’s shirt so you don’t have to see whatever expression your statement has pulled from him. 
It’s not spontaneous, no sudden solution that has sprung into your mind this very moment. You’ve suggested it before, albeit never so forcefully, Arthur brushing you off like the idea is unfathomable. Explaining that he would never feed from you, terrified he’d lose control and hurt you. He could never hurt you. If there are such things as absolutes, that is one of them, you know it.
“No.” He’s blunt, clearly hoping his tone had enough force to end it there. But you’re strong, your will to keep fighting for him an everlasting force enough to match his. 
“Arthur-” You unravel from him to sit up and meet his eye, yours pleading, his hardened. 
“Darlin’, I said no. I mean it. I promised you I would never hurt ya’, and shit have I broke a lot of promises in my life… but not that one. N-Never that one. No.” 
“You’re going to die, Arthur. If you don’t do this you’re going to die and you’re gonna leave me all on my own to face those bastards a-and,” Dammit, when did you start crying? “And I can’t do it without ya, Arthur you know I can’t-”
“Yes you can-”
“Well I don’t want to!”  You shout, bursting the bubble of quiet around the Manor, your echo riding the wave of birds flocking out of the trees. Sobs threaten to break your strength, but you have to say this. It’s the very last card you have to play. After a few moments, tension between you growing palpable enough to cut with a knife, Arthur closes his mouth, letting you continue. 
“Arthur, you’re all I have left… You think I’m a sharp enough shooter to get by them? Fine. But say I kill ‘em all, then what? Find somewhere to live and carry on? I ain’t… I can’t lose you, Arthur. But I can save you, if you let me. Please.” 
Time feels as though it stops entirely when you see Arthur actually considering your words. Tears streak your cheeks, but your boots could ignite right on your feet and you might not notice in this moment. He looks so tortured in thought, no doubt imagining the life you would lead if you left him behind. He’s sure you’re strong enough, he knows you can do anything, but his heart breaks thinking of you all alone. 
You reach for Arthur’s hands, feeling his cold skin tremble. 
“I… What if I lose control? What if I hurt you? Sweetheart, you know what I get like when I-”
“But you won’t. You know how much blood I can afford to give you, and I know you, Arthur. You’d never hurt me.” 
You elect not to tell him that any blood that runs through your body belongs to him already, your heart pumping it through your veins only for him. 
You don’t tell him you’d die for him, because you know he’d never let you. 
He’s silent, contemplating. 
Please.
Please.
“...You start feeling faint or anything, you fuckin’ tell me, alright?” His tone holds an attempt at sternness, but it bothers you none. You can hardly hear him for the rush of relief flowing over you. 
“I-I will. I promise.” And you mean it. The two of you are two entwined souls, neither trusting the other to have enough will to keep fighting if anything happened to them. 
Arthur takes a deep breath in, almost like he’s giving himself an extra few seconds to back out of this, before sighing it out. 
“Alright.”
The breath that hitched in your throat an age ago releases and you wipe your tears away hurriedly with the back of your hand. 
“Oh, thank you, Arthur…” You’re so ecstatic, so grateful that he’s letting you save him that all you can do is launch yourself over to him, kissing him with all the passion the universe has offered you to gift him. Your hands fall to either side of his face, caressing his marble skin in a way that emits a tiny groan from him. Over the last few days, you’ve cuddled up to him a lot, but there hasn’t been much contact like this. Needy and wanting, loving and layered with everything from I Love You to Let Me Save You. Arthur is a starved man, but not just for blood. For you, body, blood and soul. 
Arthur snakes one arm around your waist, even with his reduced strength still able to pull you over to straddle his lap. You’d have protested, citing that he’s too sick to be holding your weight like this, but now that this is really happening you’re getting kind of nervous, and the thought of being so close to him, arms wrapped around your frame while he feeds on your blood, comforts you hugely. And there’s no backing out, not from this, so straddle him you will. 
Despite everything, Arthur’s cool touch sets you aflame. He trails his fingertips up and down your spine, his other hand firmly gripping your ass. His tongue teases your bottom lip until you open up to him, tasting him as he does you. He tastes…like Arthur. He might argue that he’s some monster, committing evil acts in the name of survival, but you know better. He’s your Arthur, he always has been. 
The world melts around you, leaving just you and Arthur, loving each other, saving each other. That one long kiss breaks into smaller ones, until Arthur is peppering your lips, cheeks and nose with tiny kisses, glistening red eyes welling with emotion.
“It was always gonna be you, wasn’t it? You were always gonna save me…” He whispers, almost like he doesn’t quite believe it’s real.
“Always. And you’re gonna save me right back, cowboy. But first…” You look down between your two bodies, to the arm you’re holding out to Arthur. 
“Are you ready?” 
“Does it hurt?” You surprise yourself with your answer to his question, though you stand by it. You’re not scared, you could never be scared with Arthur. But nervous?
“A little. But I’m right here with you. And if you need to stop or take a break or you start feeling off, tell me or tap my arm.” You nod slowly, placing your hand into Arthur’s, “I need a yes, sweetheart… I can’t do this to you unless you’re sure.”
“Yes, Arthur. I’m sure. Please.”
There is one final, apprehensive glance in your direction, which you reply to with another tiny nod. He raises your flesh to his mouth, flashes of his white fangs visible now in the moonlight as he parts his lips. 
It’s… strange. A small scratching feeling when his teeth puncture the skin of your wrist that pinches your brows together. There’s a second of nothing, before Arthur starts to feed and steals the breath right out of your lungs. 
It’s like you can feel every vein in your body, all connecting and tugging your lifeforce through to your wrist for Arthur to feast on. You can tell the second the first drop hits his tongue, the shudder that wracks through his shoulders and down his spine. His eyes roll back in… pleasure? You’ve seen him feed before, usually such a violent affair, but this is different. You feel vulnerable to him, and as though you hold every ounce of control all at once. 
When he groans, deep carmine eyes locking onto yours, you feel it all over, your thighs clenching around your suddenly wanting pussy. 
… An unexpected side effect. 
Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the blood rushing around your body, or even the downright ravenous way Arthur is looking at you while he feeds on your blood, but you seem to be physically squirming on the bed, desperate for any kind of friction you can get. Fuck, you’ve never seen anybody react to being fed on like this… Then again, you’ve never seen feeding look or feel like this.
From even the smallest drop of you, what little colour that remains after his change has returned to Arthur’s skin and he looks much closer to alive than just minutes before. He looks himself again, right down to the cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It does maddening things to you, not at all helping your growing state of arousal. 
When his teeth sink out of your wrist, you watch crimson beads pool at two tiny punctures. Without breaking eye contact with you, Arthur lifts your hand back up to him, running the very tip of his tongue agonisingly slowly over the skin, pulling an honest to god whimper from your parted lips.
“You did so good, my good girl…” Arthur coos, an undeniably pleased look upon his face. He’s told you before, that with his heightened senses, Arthur knows when you want him. You also know how energised he gets after feeding, and how all of these factors are leading to a tension so intense between you you’re almost scared of the outcome.
There’s a smudge of blood on Arthur’s lip, one that you reach out to rub away with your thumb. Quick as the predator he is, he grabs your wrist before you can pull away, slipping your thumb into his mouth and sucking the blood gently off. Upon release, he drags one sharpened fang across the pad of your thumb and you shudder, craving that feeling of the bite more than you truly understand.
“A-Arthur…” You whimper, shuddering in pure anticipation and need. 
“I know, sweetheart… Christ, I knew you’d taste good, but this? Fuck, you’ve ruined me, baby…”
You can’t wait a second longer, certain you’ll perish unless he is kissing you in the next moment. Entangling your grip into his collar, you find Arthur only too malleable to your touch, all but pouncing on you, locking your lips together. His tongue demands entrance as he easily positions you to be laying under him, Arthur covering the entire length of you and thensome. 
“How do you feel, angel?” He asks between kisses, large hands roaming your body, tugging your clothes out of being tucked into each other to make it easier to take them off, “Y’alright? Don’t feel faint?”
“I’m okay. I just- I-I need you, please.” You’re pleading again, this time for very different reasons, “Did you get enough?” 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, sweetheart…” He growls, pulling the buttons of your shirt open feverishly. And then his lips are back on your skin, kissing your neck, licking at the skin whilst his hands work your zipper. You moan again, some wanton part of you wishing he would bite down again, marking you all over. 
Arthur is losing control in the best way, growling and grinding his erection against your leg as he tries to pull your jeans down. With a little help, he manages, tugging your undergarments with them so you’re completely bare for him. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful… my perfect little feast. Fuck, I’m tortured by every second I’m not buried deep inside that weeping cunt of yours,” At that, he runs a finger over your slit, drenching the tip of his finger in your slick, “but I think you deserve a treat for being such a good girl for me…” 
There’s no time to consider his offer as he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them, curling them to hit that sweet spot he knows so well. You scream, absolutely loud enough for any Pinkerton vampire hunters to hear.
“That’s it, huh? That what you needed? That pretty little cunt filling?” He taunts, thumb swirling over your already soaking clit. You can’t speak for crying out, but you manage a nod, feeling yourself stretch around a third finger in a way that has your heart racing even faster.
With your pulse pounding, you can really feel the wounds on your wrist starting to ache and burn. It's a strange sensation, but one that seems to blend into everything else in some twisted bout of pleasure.
Arthur must notice your eyes flickering to it, as he guides your hand back up to his lips with the hand not inside you, pressing the softest kisses over the holes in your skin. 
“Look what you did for me… My saviour, my perfect girl…”
“I’d die for you, Arthur.” you confess, the sweetness of his kisses and the languid circles of his fingers pulling you so close to the edge you can feel tears forming behind your eyes.
“It’d never come to that, beautiful. I’d burn the world down before I let your life ever hang in the balance.”
You believe him, too, and the emotion is suddenly too much. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you need him closer and all you can seem to think to do is untangle your wrist from his grasp and slip your thumb into his mouth.
He knows what you’re asking for instantly, and you swear you see his inky pupils blow until his eyes are nothing but a reddened void. 
“Oh, my pretty little feast…” He groans, pricking your thumb with a fang and sucking gently at the blood. It isn’t nearly as intense as your wrist, but you still feel that tugging everywhere and you can’t stop the lewd moans that fall from your lips as you come undone. 
Writing, screaming his name, you feel Arthur suck harder on your thumb, moaning himself at the taste of you. It’s not nearly as much as he was taking before, but enough that your blood blooms over his tongue and fills every one of his senses. He is a man obsessed, and it’s the most beautiful sight as you cum for him. 
The waves of euphoria crash over you, each more intense and wonderful than the last. Arthur orchestrates your orgasm through his own pleasure, drawing perfect patterns on your clit in time to his thrusts. 
When you come down, he’s there, releasing you from his fangs again to free his lips for yours. Your lips lock together, his body crushing yours into the mattress. You love the feel of all his weight on you, especially when you can feel every pulse of his throbbing cock through the denim of his jeans. Jeans that must go, so you snake a hand into what little space you can between your bodies to reach for his buttons. Arthur helps you, and he’s soon naked on top of you. Wrapping nimble fingers around his shaft, you run your thumb over the rosy head of his cock, swiping at the bead of precum already leaking. He’s desperate for you, and it drives you wild. 
You’re already guiding him to your soaked entrance, grinding your hips pathetically, needily. Arthur chuckles softly, taunting you with the smallest of hip movements to slide his tip into you, but stopping there. 
“Arthur.” You whine, eyes pleading, cunt dripping for him. Your hands roam the expanse of his back, feeling each muscle twitch under your touch, scratching at the cool skin like a cat in heat. 
“I know, baby, I know… I’ll make it better.” He purrs, finally sliding the entire length of his cock into your heat. It stretches you in that beautiful way only he can and you moan, deep and visceral. Your nails leave white scratches across Arthur’s back as your hands float up to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss as his groin presses hard into yours.
“Oh, my beautiful girl… I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’re gonna hear you up in Saint Denis… them Pinkertons out there are gonna think I’m draining every last drop of that sweet blood out of your precious little body.”
Such a violent image, but somehow… you enjoy the thought. You’d bleed for him till the end of time, gladly… you’d lay down your life on a slab and be Arthur’s for the taking. 
You can’t think of the words to tell him how much you want what he’s telling you, letting the passion guide you to bite down on Arthur’s lower lip. A taste of his own medicine. He has no blood of his own to give, but you’re biting down hard enough to have drawn some if he did, dragging another feral grown from the depths of his throat. 
True to his word, with just a few perfectly timed thrusts, you’re screaming his name, cunt fluttering around his thick cock and squeezing every inch of it. That full feeling is so wonderful, so bone-deep and euphoric you’re on the precipice of another orgasm in seconds. He can tell, slowing down and hanging you right over the edge with a wicked grin on his face. You whine and whimper, clawing at the back of his neck to pull him even closer.
“What do you want, little feast? Use your words.” He pushes, still dragging his cock up against your walls in the most torturous of ways. 
“I want… I-I need… I-I… urgh!” You cry out in frustration, each syllable leaving your lips earning another thrust that dizzies you to the point of cock-drunk stuttering. Fuck words. You’ll show him. 
With a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull Arthur closer, guiding him to the crook of your neck. 
“Angel, I don’t know if I can control myself if I taste you agai-”
“Please…” you whimper, rocking your hips up to meet Arthur’s movements, clit grinding deliciously against his pubic bone. 
Arthur’s eyes meet yours and you’re lost in them, convinced you’ve never been held so close to climax for so long before, but your body knows what it wants, what it needs to get there with Arthur. 
“Fuck, if I could die, you’d be the death of me…” Are the last words he speaks before sinking his teeth into your neck, in perfect time with a deep thrust of his cock. You scream, in pain, in pleasure, all of it, finally falling over that cliff and crashing into the waves below. You drown in your orgasm, dragging Arthur down with you as he sucks the sweet ichor out of your veins. With your blood on his tongue and his name on your lips, you cum together. The vibrations of his carnal moans tickle your neck, layering yet another juxtaposing sensation onto you. 
He releases, only to whisper sweet words of praise into your bleeding skin, “Look at you, giving me this… you’re doing so good for me, ain’t ya? My little angel, my good girl…”
And he’s biting down again, and you’re chanting his name, legs wrapped tight around his hips, tears you don’t remember shedding streaking down your cheeks. It feels like you stay there for an eternity, connected mind, body and soul. You would stay there for an eternity with him, if he’d only let you. But that’s another story…
It stings a little when Arthur unleashes his teeth from you, and you wince. His hand is there instantly, caressing the surely reddened skin as his brows pull together, “You okay? I didn’t go too far, did I? Y’feelin’ alright?” 
You shake your head softly, a blissful smile gracing your lips, “I’m perfect.” 
“Damn straight you are.” He remarks, slowly sliding out of you and lowering his weight onto the bed beside you. 
“What about you? How are you feeling?” You ask, entwining your fingers together and holding them up into the moonlight. There's a streak of your blood crossing over a few of Arthur’s knuckles. It suits him. 
“Never better.” He says honestly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you, darlin’. I’ll never be able to thank ya’ enough for what you did, but I promise you I’ll get us out of here alive. Well… y’know what I mean.” 
You giggle, sure you may never get used to the fact that the love of your life is dead. 
“You don’t need to thank me, Arthur. You’ve given me your life a million times, it’s only fair I get to do the same.”
And you mean it. You would do it a thousand times over, giving your life to Arthur while he gives his afterlife to you, saving each other until the end of time. 
852 notes · View notes
malereadermaniac · 2 months
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An Oni's Instinct ~ Alpha Itto x Omega Male Reader
Nsfw - Minors dni!
Amab anatomy - fem readers dni!
Super happy with this one - hope you guys enjoy!
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When people look at Itto, most agree that he is pretty much a textbook definition of an Alpha
The Oni is tall, lean yet muscular, he's loud and overly confident; to sum up, the man is attractive
However, even as an Alpha, Itto is caring, he's not a very serious man, and he most definitely treats his Omega as a person
People are shocked to see you and Itto out and about as a happy, mated couple - mainly due to the shock factor of a man that looks like Itto treating you, an omega, with incredible amounts of respect
Itto worships the ground that you walk on, the Alpha is a gentleman - a slightly dumb and unserious one but a gentleman no less
The oni opens doors for you, holds heavy objects for you and teases you about it without belittling you like other Alpha's do
Itto takes care of you in many ways, not because he feels like he needs to, but because he wants to show his love for you
And that love transfers over to the bedroom as well
Itto is the perfect Alpha when it comes to helping you through heats
The silver-haired oni can smell the slight change in your pheromones when you go into pre-heat, and he immediately acts on it
The geo-user calls off anything he has that day and takes you home straight away despite your protests
An Oni's Instinct is never wrong, especially when it comes to his whiny Omega boyfriend
By the time Itto has you on your shared bed you've already started to feel the effects of his pheromones on you
The muscular oni gently undresses you, making you lay comfortably on the bed as your body starts to turn redish with your rising temperature
Your full heat hits you like a truck once you watch your handsome Alpha undress, his huge back and arms flexing as he throws his clothes into the corner of the room, his tall form looming over you amonce the oni crawls to hover over your smaller body
You can feel the pang in your gut, the heat in your stomach twisting into a painful knot as you start to leak precum and slick
Itto makes sure to release calming pheromones while verbally making you relax while he trims his sharp nails
"I know it hurts, babe but just wait a little longer... I don't wanna scratch your perfectly soft walls with my nails now do I?"
Once Itto's nails are finally dull enough as to not hurt your, the Alpha man-handles your heat-induced jellylegs onto his broad, muscular shoulders to open your entrance up to him
Itto takes a slip second to admire your slightly gapping hole, your (pinkish/brownish) rim sopping in your slick
But the oni doesn't admire you for too long, your horny, desperate whines snapping him out of his horny daze
"Alpha... Ittooooo~ C'mon pleaseee" you moan out in a whiny tone
"Aye aye captain!" The white-haired oni says with a grin, looking into your eyes. Who was Itto to deny such a request?
The Alpha moves his mouth down to your hole, giving your entrance a hot lick with his abnormally long, Oni tongue
Itto wasting no time, shoving one of his long, lean fingers into your piping hot hole after getting his short but sweet fill of your slick
You writhe and moan from your Alpha's immidiate attack on your prostate, his finger thrusting in and out of your hole, curling into your boiling hot walls from time to time
Itto loved watching as he fingered you, your dick twitching from his veiny fingers - he fucking loved watching his middle two fingers fuck into you as you subconsciously ride his veiny, lean digits
Once Itto has gotten a third finger inside of you, you were pushed to your first orgasm of the night, you came hard, your infertile cum covering your chest as your dick even manages to squirt some of your jizz onto your Alpha's hair
Your dick was twitching, but the knot in your gut had barely relaxed, your heat making your ass tighten as you beg Itto for more
So as to not keep his sweet Omega in pain for much longer, Itto lines up his absolutely massive hard on (that he'd been ignoring up until now) with your hole
He chuckled when your hole seemed to wink at him, your ass tightening around nothing out of desperation
It's common knowledge that all Alpha's are... well endowed - but because of Itto's oni genes, he had a fucking monster on him
Not only was your Alpha's dick huge, but he was veiny and his knot would litterally lock him inside of you until it fully went down
Thankfully, due to your heat, your usually tight hole was loosened up and ready for your Alpha to wreck you
So in one fell swoop, with your waist in Itto's tight grip, the Oni pulls you onto his dick as he thrusts his hips forward until they collide with yours
Your tummy instantly bulges with an imprint of your Alpha's monster cock, your arms frantically gripping st the bed and pillows above your head as you moan your Alpha's name loudly and lewdly
Itto knows that when you're in heat, you prefer hard and fast - it gets rid of the tight and hot pain in your stomach when you feel a dick fucking into you at lightning speed
And so, your oni does just that, he holds one of your legs up on his shoulder and keeps his other veiny, manly hand on your waist, pulling you in time with his hips to meet his thrusts
As his dick drills into your prostate, Itto'a groaning and grunting in pleasure from.how warm and tight your walls are getting
Your pheromones are driving the man insane and his are doing the same to you
Once Itto bends down, bringing your knee to your head, your ass opens up even move, allowing the Alpha to fuck you even deeper and even harder
Itto kisses you gently, his way of showing his love in such animalistic moments
You let your moans fill the Oni's mouth while his long tongue plays with yours
As you make out with your alpha, he moves his rough hand from your waist to your hard, smaller dick - his veiny hand able to cover your whole dick
Once Itto starts to jack you off to the pace of his rough thrusts, you cum again
You break the kiss you shared with Itto and gasp, that gasp quickly transforming into a loud, pornographic moan
Itto's face scrunched up from the overwhelming feeling of your clenching fuckhole, but he didn't shut is eyes in effort to watch your sexy face as you came
With your cum splattered on his rock-hard abs, Itto decides to swipe some onto his finger and taste your sweet, addictive, omegan cum
Like some kind if drug, your cum made Itto release more of his horny pheromones - resulting in the Alpha speeding his muscular hips up as he desperately wraps his muscular, veiny arms around you waist; lifting you up off of the bed
Your legs wrap around Itto's waist on Instinct and your arms loosely around your Alpha's neck
Itto was desperately moving you up and down on his huge, hard dick - his panting echoing in your ear like a heavenly choir, and the way the man looked at you with a flushed, sweaty face turned you on more than your heat ever could
As Itto fucked up into you harder and faster, you were beginning to get overwhelmed again - your heat making you desperate for another orgasm at the hands of your handsome, strong Alpha
Due to the speed of Itto's fucking, he started to lose his grip on you - as you started slipping from the Alpha's grip, you reflexively grabbed the nearest sturdy object
Unfortunately, or rather very fortunately for Itto, the nearest thing you instinctively grabbed were his horns - his extremely sensitive horns, which were an Oni's biggest, most effective erogenous zone
"HAAAAH! FUCK, (Y/N)!~" Itto shouts with a moan, stopping his thrusts abruptly as his whole face scrunched up from the shocking amount of pleasure
You can feel the oni's dick throb and twitch inside if you, his not evidently starting to swell - meaning your Alpha's orgasm was close
In your heat-rotted brain, you could only think of being filled with Itto's thick, fertile cum and his fat knot plugging you up
So you go ahead and push Itto's buttons some more, gently carresing one of your boyfriend's bright red horns while tightly gripping the other one
Itto whimpers and pants into your ear for a moment before tightening hid arms around your waist and starting to pound into you once more
Your dick slaps against your stomach as Itto fucks up into you at the speed of light - his fat dickhead pushing against your prostate so roughly that it almost winds you
Your moans mix with Itto's to form a harmony that turns the both of you on even more
Your play with your oni's horns more and more, listening to hid whimpers between grunts and moans, his face blushing more and his body sweating insane amounts of his Alpha musk
And with a few final tugs at your boyfriend's horns, Itto hugs you tight against his body as he shoves his whole dick and knot into you, keeping his dick snug between your warm, soft, and wet walls as he gently ruts his cock
You both moan as you reach your climaxes - Itto's hot, virile cum fulls your Omegan heat to the brim - making your inner Omega ecstatic.
You moan at the feeling if Itto filling you up with his dick, cum and most importantly his huge knot plugging you up
Your 3rd orgasm of the night hits you harder than the others, your legs unwrapping from Itto's waist and twitching uncontrollably from your orgasm
Your dick spurts small splashes of clear cum which coat your dick, chest and Itto's abs in your useless seed
Your grip on Itto's horns tightens as you pull the Alpha down for a passionate kiss - your pull on his horns making the Oni cum a second time immediately out of oberstimulation
You sloppily makeout with Itto, his tongue dominating yours lazily as his tight grip on you doesn't loosen one bit
You can feel your tummy full of your Alpha's cock and cum, the buldge in your stomach slightly bigger from the Alpha's unreal amounts of cum
However Sticky and sweaty the two of you were, as well as incredibly overstimualted and hot, you two enjoyed the moment m, basking in the afterglow as Itto rubs his strong arm up and down your back
After managing to calm down (his knot, therefore, also going down) Itto pulls his dick out of you, his thick jizz pouring out of you like a leaking tap
The Alpha lies you down on your bed and immediately reverts back to his less horny, gentlemanly demeanour
Itto jokes with you as he cleans the two of you up - taking care with you as your heat is very much still in effect, his cum and knot merely subduing it for a few hours at most
After the two of you are cleaned up and cleaned out, Itto and you share the few moments you two remain awake cuddling and chatting
Itto had quickly informed Lady Yae that you won't be in for a week, and he's left Shinibu incharge until he's back
As you lull to sleep in your boyfriends warm, strong arms, Itto caresses your body softly while whispering sweet nothings to you
Each one of his sentences having at least one way of saying "I love you" in them
334 notes · View notes
pocketjoong · 4 months
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❥𓂃𓏧WHAT IS A SOULMATE?
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ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You and Seonghwa go on a trip across Europe and you use this as an excuse to make a little birthday video for him. But on the day of his birthday, Seonghwa feels nothing but grief as he watches the video you made for him.
ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!Seonghwa x fem!reader
ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. angst. meet-cute. nsfw.
ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) NSFW! MINORS DNI. oral. fingering. unprotected sex (it’s a big no guys, please use protection and stay safe). pet names (mc is called dove). mentions of food. allusions to and mentions of a serious accident. angst. fluff.
ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 4.3k
ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) @pyeonghongrie-main :) Here's the promised reupload hehehe
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London
Outside the confines of your hotel room, silence blankets the city much like the fog that hangs overhead. The first light of dawn is yet to break through the ink-black sky as the metropolis cradles its inhabitants in the silence of the night. This part of the city is still asleep, each soul embraced by the arms of Morpheus, awaiting daybreak to rouse them from their slumber.
Your gaze fixates on the horizon from between the sheer curtains. A pang of anticipation stirs within you, for out of all the alluring sights of nature, sunrise has always been your favourite. After all, regardless of wherever you are in the world, the sunrise is the only constant in the transient nature of life.
Today, however, as the dark black of the night fades to inky blue and splashes of pinks and purples bloom in the east, the only sight you focus on are his eyes. Seonghwa’s eyes are brighter than any galaxy and softer than the cherry blossoms that have begun blossoming on the tree just beyond the terrace. In that moment, you are happy to forego the sight of the beautiful sunrise to watch the coffee and hazel in his eyes melt to form the most gorgeous shade of brown you’ve ever seen.
It won’t be an exaggeration to say that sometimes, you feel like all of your life—each second, each breath, and each step—amounts to Seonghwa. Every decision you have ever made has been a stepping stone in your journey to meet him that one day six years ago when he was only a trainee.
Close to dawn, you had been wandering through the streets of Seoul to find a spark of inspiration for your first-ever project as a photography major. You knew  you wanted to play with the idea of light and dark meeting together to form the most beautiful of sights, and what was a better time to do so than twilight?
So there you were, braving the winter chill for a decent grade while your friends were sleeping soundly, snuggled up in their warm beds.
But it seemed that fate had other plans for you that morning. You took a sip of the coffee you’d bought from the only cafe open at this ungodly hour, forgetting for a moment that it was piping hot. With a wince, you glared at the beige paper cup as if the liquid energy had personally done something to spite you.
A snicker caught your attention, and you turned around to narrow your eyes at the person, only to freeze in your tracks. Wearing a brown, fuzzy coat coupled with dark skinny jeans, the male looked like an angel sent from heaven. The thought that he was a hallucination of your sleep-deprived and cold body crossed your mind, but you discarded the thought when he realised that you’d heard him, and he scrambled to apologise for laughing.
You didn’t know then, but your life was for him. And, it won’t be an exaggeration to say that your life is all him. As winter melted into spring and spring made way for summer, you fell in love with the colour brown: the lush cocoa of Seonghwa’s eyes, sweeter than any hot chocolate you could find, and the tan of his skin, reminiscent of the buttery sweetness of roasted chestnuts. As the weather became humid and the days turned longer, you didn’t even register the beginnings of love taking root in your heart.
It began slowly, like the dripping of water from a tap. Drop by drop, your heart filled with adoration for him. Starting with an appreciation for the awe with which he experienced the world as if doing so for the first time. Then, it became more serious: you found yourself yearning to be around him, to listen to him talk about anything and everything, to be the only one he’d think of as being worthy of his heart.
And then, as if that wasn’t enough, you fell for his voice, a deep baritone with the consistency of honey that you couldn’t get enough of. And the best part? You got to hear it every day before sunrise, for that was his designated time for you in his busy schedule as a trainee and then later as an idol. Dawn was yours, had always been yours, and would always be yours as long as Seonghwa was beside you.
And so, without your knowledge, you fell in love with him bit by bit. You fell as if falling under a spell you couldn’t find a counter for. Not that you wanted to anyway, not when he was there to catch you.
A year later when spring arrived, love and hope sprouted in your heart when Seonghwa’s lips pressed against yours for the first time under the cherry blossoms. He etched himself into the deepest crevices of your soul and your heart. His touch was like that of the sun against your skin after a dark night, igniting your soul in a way that reminded you of fireworks. Under the light of dawn, as he kissed you, you learned a truth. Like the sunrise, Seonghwa is the only constant in your life.
“What are you thinking about?” His soft whisper pulls you out of your reminiscing, and you find yourself gazing into his wide eyes that are brimming with affection and curiosity.
Even after years of being with Seonghwa, the way he looks at you as if you are the one who hung the moon in the sky always floors you. Your skin tingles at the warmth and adoration in his gaze.
“You,” lost in way his thumb grazes against your waist, the word slips out of your lips without a second thought. You almost curse at yourself for being so taken with him when you see a devilish smirk pull at his lips.
“Is that so, my dove?” Chuckling, he lets himself get closer to you, if that’s even possible, considering how you’re basically pressed against him. His hands rise to cup your face, drawing you to his lips.
You lose yourself in the warmth of his mouth. His kisses are softer at first, but soon, his lips are moving insistently against yours. His teeth sink gently into your bottom lip, and he swallows the moan that leaves you almost hungrily. Seonghwa’s hand slides up the side of your body to slide your nightgown off you, exposing you to the chilly morning air.
He pulls back from you momentarily, the loss making you whine, but the protest dies in your throat when he gazes at you with nothing but love and adoration. In what little light filters through the sheer curtains, he looks ethereal with his glowing bronze skin. His dark hair is messy, and yet he manages to look as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a manhwa. As if knowing what’s going through your head, a soft smile pulls at his lips.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he breathes, voice thick with sleep and desire.
“Like what?” You ask, your own hands finding purchase against his shoulders.
“Like I’m the damn sunrise.”
“You’re more breathtaking than any sunrise I’ve ever seen, Hwa,” you cradle his cheek in your palm, words ringing with sincerity as you gaze at your boyfriend.
Seonghwa ducks down at your words, hiding his face in your neck as you chuckle at the way he reacts to your compliment. Your amusement doesn’t last long, however, when he leans down further to lave his tongue against the marks his teeth had left against the column of your neck the night before. His teeth sink into your skin, cutting you off mid-laughter, while his palms come to cup your exposed breasts, and you find yourself arching into his touch. 
You watch Seonghwa descend the length of your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips can reach. His hands slither downwards, fingers digging into your thighs to spread your legs open for him. Bringing his mouth to your core, he smirks when you let out a broken moan, bucking into his mouth. Seoghwa keeps his eyes on you as he devours you.
“Hwa—” you choke back a moan, reaching for him with a trembling hand. You pull him to your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Want you. Please.”
“My beautiful dove.” Seonghwa breathes reverently. His hands are gentle against your waist, cradling you close to him while his lips trace their way up your jaw to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. 
As the sun rises over the Thames River, he ravishes you with a gentleness that feels like the first touch of warmth of the morning light.
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Madrid
“Are you recording me?” Seonghwa laughs, walking backwards on the sidewalk as you fumble with the camera—it’s heavier than what you’re used to—but you don’t mind because you’re more concerned about the quality of the video than anything else.
You can’t help but grin at the sight in front of you: Seonghwa in a beret and a long, dark coat that he has paired with jeans contrasts so well with the potted geraniums in front of the restaurant you had stopped to get breakfast at. The flowers herald the happiness blossoming in your chest at the sight of your lover glowing like the sun while surrounded by the the tell-tale signs of the approaching spring.
Seonghwa jokes that these flowers are blooming because it is his first time visiting Europe with you. You laugh off his silly comment, but in your heart of hearts, you can’t help but agree with him. It’s almost as if nature wants you to document the most beautiful sights while you record Seonghwa in the cities you are visiting.
Before you can answer him, something catches his eyes, and before you know it, he is dragging you to a toy store he has spotted on the other side of the road. His smile as he eagerly scours the store for something to buy reminds you of sunlight upon the tides, bright and blinding as the sun itself on the waves that lap gently at the shore.
Seonghwa makes his way to the sunglasses, trying on the goofiest ones, making you giggle. Encouraged by your laughter, he continues to make a fool of himself, pulling funny expressions for the camera and not caring if people are giving him funny looks. At one point, he tries the poison green alien sunglasses, and despite you laughing at how atrocious the design is, you can’t help but think how easily he can pull off even the most ridiculous of accessories with grace.
Behind him, you spot something that makes you gasp, and you rush to the shelves to grab one of the Toothless plushies. Turning around with purpose, you’re caught off guard by how close Seonghwa is, but you don’t let it faze you.
“Look, Hwa! I found you on the shelf,” you giggle at him, holding the plushie up so that it lines up with his face.
He rolls his eyes fondly, used to such jokes by the rest of ATEEZ and his fans. Despite that, he takes the plushie from your hands and puts it on his head, allowing you to capture him with ease. His touch is careful as he holds the plushie, similar to how he handles everything he lays his hands on. Delicate and light, he touches everything he comes across with care, and that’s one of the reasons you find him endearing—for he’s one of the few people who truly take the time to appreciate the beauty the world has to offer.
“If I’m Toothless, doesn’t that mean you’re my Light Fury?” You watch the way his eyes scan the shelves for something.
“I guess,” you shrug, chuckling as you help him in his search for a plushie of the said dragon.
“Do you think we should buy these?” Seonghwa asks, interrupting your search, and you turn to find him holding up the two plushies. He glances at the two stuffed toys—Toothless and the Light Fury—with his eyes furrowed as he weighs the pros and cons of buying both.
“You have multitudes of these back home, Hwa.” You remind him, in fact, he has so many plushies and figurines that he had to store some in your apartment because his manager had threatened that he would throw them out if he saw one more of the HTTYD-themed merch.
“But—”
“Hwa.”
“Fine, break my heart, why don’t you?” And with a pout, he places them back on the shelf reluctantly. You know he’s joking because when you gesture towards the plushies later on, he shakes his head with a smile.
Throughout the day, you explore the city with him, telling him everything you had learned about the places from the little tourist booklet you had snagged from the hotel that morning. He listens to you earnestly, watching you talk with a smile as admiration settles under his skin.
Later in the night, you find yourself in a cafe. Taking a deep breath, you inhale the scent of coffee that permeates your immediate surroundings. Since the cafe is basically empty at this time of the night, a sense of tranquillity surrounds you, much like the warm coat Seonghwa has draped over you. You watch late stragglers making their way home from their jobs through the window you’re seated against, hands curled against a warm cup of hazelnut latte.
“Dove,” Seonghwa’s quiet voice comes from next to you, causing you to snuggle into his shoulder, humming for him to continue. “Don’t fall asleep. We have to walk back to the hotel.”
“Shall we leave, then?” Stifling a yawn, you ask, causing him to nod.
He leads you out of the cafe, keeping his hand on your lower back as you walk through the sparsely populated streets. The very next moment, however, it begins to rain out of nowhere, and before you know it, you are being drenched in the downpour.
Seonghwa laughs in surprise but turns his face upwards to allow the raindrops to kiss his cheeks. Even though the world is blurred around you and your vision is warped by the drops in your eyes, you can still see him clearly. He basks in the rain, lets himself get drenched by the droplets cascading down his face, neck, and shoulders. The rain is so heavy that the raindrops make streams as they make their way down his body.
Watching him like this, you find yourself reaching out for him. As if on the same wavelength as you, Seonghwa takes your hand in his, lips curling up in a smile when you entangle your fingers with his. Reaching out, he cups your face gently, and it seems as if the world stops around you, your senses failing to register anything beyond his touch. Seonghwa trails his thumb along your lips, wiping the raindrops that have settled across your skin.
Drenched in the downpour with him, it’s easy to think of Seonghwa as the rain and yourself as the earth that craves rain after a dry spell.
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Seoul
The wallpaper drips with grief, mimicking the gloom that has taken root in his heart and doesn’t seem to want to leave. The glow of the streetlights filters through the windows and is the only source of light in his dark room. In the centre of the whirlpool of dread and darkness lies Seonghwa, curled up against the messy sheets he can’t bother to straighten.
The silence is uncanny. He’s not used to it—for years, he has shared a room with Hongjoong, and even though, more often than not, the younger male wasn’t actually there because he preferred the studio or the living room couch to the bedroom, the mere idea of sharing a room with someone always made him feel at ease. Hongjoong has been Seonghwa’s anchor in the years he roomed with him, but now alone in his room, the walls seem to press in around him like waves trying to drown him, leaving him breathless.
If Hongjoong is his anchor, you are his beacon, his guiding light, his polestar. And tonight, as his ship is battered by the biggest storm he’s ever faced, you aren’t here either. Desperately, he searches for something to ground him, but too many days and nights filled with sorrow and false optimism have built up and around him, crushing him with a weight he can’t handle anymore. When love wasn’t enough to save you, how can it be enough to help him stay afloat in the rough seas?
Outside of his room, spring touches everything with its delicate hands. For Seonghwa, however, winter still lingers, and the beautiful weather outside just irks him further. He hasn’t been in love for the last week, and even nature cannot revive him this time around. Without love in his heart, the only thing he feels is despair.
Even now, he can’t forget the way red painted his hands as you lay in his arms. Sometimes, when he squeezes his eyes shut hard enough, he can see your smile. In the very same moment, his heart opens and breaks when the image of you in his arms dances across his vision, and he dies again and again, bleeds until there’s only a shell left behind.
The beeping of his digital clock startles him. The digits read 00:00, distorted from the tears that line his lashes but never seem to fall. For a long time, he had thought today would make the pain bearable, but it persists, lingering in his heart and his room like stubborn rain clouds that linger even after the storm has passed. It is possible that you may not return to him, but he tries to remain optimistic. If he doesn’t believe you to be strong enough to fight for him, for your love, then who will? 
His phone dings, and he looks at the device for a moment. Each beep of his phone has, till now, started him into a sitting position, and every time, it has not what he expected. But foolishly, he still hopes for a miracle.
His phone dinging again with the custom notification he had set for you has Seonghwa scrambling to check his phone. It’s a scheduled email, but your name lighting up the screen renders him breathless. At the sight of your name, the storm raging around him quietens down, leaving him in calm seas. There’s a video attached with the email, and he clicks it open.
[Exterior. Mid-morning. Shots of the streets of London from a car. In the foreground, the text reads Happy Birthday, Seonghwa! A female’s voice is heard speaking in the voiceover.]
Y/N: What’s a soulmate?
[The camera pans and focuses on Seonghwa as he looks out of the window, pointing at all the things he remembers from the few times he has been there with ATEEZ for concerts.]
SH: And that’s the cafe Jongho liked a lot. He said the coffee there was amazing. We should definitely visit it after we’ve settled in hotel room, you look like you could do with some caffeine in your system.
Y/N: [laughing] Not everyone is used to sleeping in aeroplanes.
SH: [shaking his head, he sniffs as if wounded by your comments] Well, if you toured with me, you’d be used to it. You’re the only one who keeps declining when I ask you to come with me! My poor self has to live without you for months just because you won’t agree.
Y/N: Your idea of bringing me along includes you stuffing me into your suitcase. Sorry if I don’t want to be thrown around with the other luggage.
SH: [snorting] It’s your fault for being so small.
Y/N: [sighing] Whatever, Hwa.
[Midday. The video cuts to a shot of Seonghwa walking along the Thames river. He has his arms wrapped around himself. The sky is covered with fluffy clouds, and one can tell that spring is fast approaching with the way little green buds are seen on the trees in the background.]
Y/N: It’s a… Well, it’s like a best friend, but more.
SH: It’s so cold!
Y/N: Should we go and get something to warm us up from the cafe you pointed out earlier? I think it’s close to where we are right now.
[The video cuts to the two of you inside the cafe. The camera is placed on one side, allowing it to capture both Seonghwa and you. You’re laughing at Seonghwa, who took a sip from your iced americano and immediately made a face at the taste. The video skips a bit and Seonghwa can be seen humming along to the music from the speakers while you watch him, enraptured by his vocals.]
Y/N: It’s the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else.
[The video cuts again. This time, Seonghwa is in a hotel room, standing against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower and posing goofily while you are laughing in the background. He waddles over to the camera, forcing you to put it on the table as he twirls you around, dancing to a song he’s humming.]
Y/N: It’s someone who makes you a better person.
[The video cuts to a closeup of Seonghwa’s head in your lap as you sit on the couch. He’s sleeping soundly while you run your fingers through his soft hair. His lips quirk upwards in a smile, causing you to halt your motions, but a whine from him has you resuming your actions.]
Y/N: [soft whisper] Did I wake you up?
SH: [hums and shakes his head] Not really… [yawns] I wasn’t fully asleep.
[There’s silence for a while as Seonghwa shifts around to get comfortable.]
SH: I love you.
Y/N: That was so random, Hwa.
SH: Hey! You’re supposed to say you love me too!
Y/N: [snorting] I love you, you overgrown child.
SH: I’ll have you know that’s Wooyoung.
Y/N: Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll bite your arm off or something.
SH: [laughing hard]
Y/N: Actually, they don’t make you a better person, you do that yourself… because they inspire you.
[The video cuts to Seonghwa amidst the geraniums in Madrid before he drags you to the MINISO. His shenanigans from the store can be seen, with him wearing goofy sunglasses and playing with the Night Fury plushie.]
Y/N: A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever.
[Seonghwa can be seen busking with a guy playing the guitar. He sings Angel Baby by Troye Sivan, smiling wide when you start swaying one of your hands in beat with the music, causing people to follow your actions. When he’s done, people come up to him, telling him that he’s an amazing singer, and he thanks everyone with a bashful smile while watching you look at him with a look of pride on your face.]
Y/N: It’s the one person who knew you and accepted you… Believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. 
[Seonghwa excuses himself from the crowd and makes his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your frame and sways the two of you as the busker starts crooning a song in Danish.]
SH: Thank you for always believing in me, dove. Especially when I didn’t believe in myself.
Y/N: [smiling] I love you, and I’ll cheer you on, especially during the darkest days.
Y/N: And no matter what happens, you will always love them. 
[The camera pans to you in your editing studio, and you wave at the camera with a smile on your face.]
Y/N: It’s quite late [glancing at the clock on your desk], 3 a.m. to be precise, and I’m working on your birthday video. [Laughs] I hope you like this little video I put together with clips from our trip to Europe. Give me a call once you’re done watching this. I love you so much, Hwa! Happy Birthday, my star!
Y/N: Nothing can ever change that.
Seonghwa wipes his tears, sniffing as he gets up from the bed. With a meticulousness characteristic of him, he goes through the motions of dressing up to pay you a visit. That’s the only thing that seems to make sense, so with bleary eyes and heavy feet, he walks through the deserted streets of Seoul.
The staff members at the hospital allow him to see you, used to his untimely visits. The nurse watching over you gives him a sad smile and leaves him alone with you when he enters your room. He notes that the pallor that had settled beneath your skin is now fading, albeit slowly. 
Maybe you’re getting better? But you still haven’t woken up, and seeing your face, he finds himself falling, falling through the memories of the day of the accident. His eyes close of their own accord, and he sighs, trying to get those images out of his mind. Unable to stop his thoughts, he relives the day all over again.
Logically, he knows the accident isn’t his fault but of the person who was behind the wheel.
Or maybe it was, the voice in his mind tells him.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can’t forgive himself for the events that led up to the accident. If he hadn’t called you to pick him up from the company that night when it was raining, you’d be safe in his arms, celebrating his birthday with him.
No, it wasn’t. Seonghwa desperately wants to believe his own words. But there’s still that small voice of doubt that rears its ugly head, and before he knows it, fresh tears are rolling down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Seonghwa is too emotionally exhausted and too choked to speak any louder. “My dove, I’m so sorry for this whole mess. I’m sorry. Please wake up soon. I can’t do this alone—I can’t live without you. Please. I love you.”
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