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cupid-styles · 3 months

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a day in the life (ymls)

it's been awhile since I've posted anything about these cuties so here's a lil blurb!!!!! hope you enjoy :)

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: family stuff, y/n is no longer pregnant BUT there's discussions of her pregnancy, giving birth, and lactating/breastfeeding

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. . .

Y/N never asked Harry to live with her.

They never had a conversation about it, instead just deciding to go to her house after she and Clementine were released from the hospital because it would likely be easier to recover in her own space — all of her lactation gear was there, along with the three (3!) different pregnancy pillows Harry purchased for her throughout the duration of the pregnancy.

But then he just never… left.

In hindsight, despite neither of them bringing it up, they both recognize that it’s a way past overdue discussion. Someone should’ve been like, “hey, I know we’ve only been dating for like four months or so and we’re having a baby together, but should we live in the same space, maybe? Just for ease of parenting and all that?”.

Surprisingly, though, since Y/N very much appreciates her own room — she didn’t do well in college when she had a roommate in their dorm, and she’s very much an introvert that adores heading home at the end of the long day and simply being alone — she hasn’t completely hated Harry being around all the time. It’s the most that they’ve ever spent time together, a whopping three and a half weeks straight since Clementine was born.

It’s a different kind of time, though, considering a newborn’s schedule is unlike anything else. They alternate between who gets to nap during the day and while Y/N is technically cleared for recovery, she still aches like… well, like she pushed an entire body through her. (Even when she tears up looking at Clementine nearly every day, she still shudders at the thought of giving birth. Harry called it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and she sincerely wonders if he’s mentally well.)

And somehow, they’ve developed a schedule that works quite well, for now at least. Clementine, their sweet little baby girl, is a decent sleeper. Per all those parenting books Harry obsessed over for nine months, she spends most of her time sleeping, with multiple feeding times throughout the day and night.

When Harry and Y/N both manage to be awake and conscious during the day, they hover over her bassinet — well, formerly in Y/N’s room, but now it seems to be Y/N’s plus Harry’s room? — quietly leaning in to make sure she’s breathing okay, admiring her cute little face, and taking pictures of the adorable onesies Harry puts her in. They have visitors, of course, including both pairs of their parents, siblings, and mutual friends. There’s a lot of crying and smiling and, oddly enough, entertaining, which is silly considering they’re still brand new parents who are working off of two- or three-hour incremental naps.

In terms of their dynamic, things shift slightly, but Y/N is still the grump Harry adores. She’s exhausted, understandably so. The whole breastfeeding thing wreaks havoc on her body and Clementine doesn’t love it, so she tries her best to regularly pump milk for her, but she hates sitting on the couch, asking Harry to turn on some stupid reality show to distract her, and feeling the machine push and prod at her breasts.

“This makes me feel like a cow,” she’d huffed the first time they did it, and it made Harry snort so loud he had to excuse himself from the room.

But Harry… he’s good, even if it’s difficult for Y/N to properly communicate that to him. She knows she got very lucky with him, not just from a partnership standpoint — which, that’s an entirely different conversation that they haven’t gotten to yet — but a parenting one, too. He has no reason to get up with her at 3 am because Clem’s doing her sweet little lamb cries from the corner of their bedroom. Y/N can very easily escape to the room she designated as her nursery months back, where there’s a comfy nursing chair her mother bought her, but instead Harry’s up before Y/N’s eyes are even properly open, gently placing her in her arms and pushing a warm bottle into her hand.

He insists on helping her with every feeding, taking on more diaper changes than Y/N, and even doing his best to take care of her along the way. He helps her into the bath when her bones and joints are too achy to stand in the shower, he never complains about cooking them dinner (if Y/N orders food one more time, she thinks her bank will call her and ask if she’s been taken hostage by one of those ordering apps), and, even with her heightened hormones and emotions, she does indeed cry helplessly, salty tears leaking onto her daughter’s forehead when Harry comes home one day with a bouquet of flowers, a tidy note in the front that says “for my girls”.

It makes him laugh so hard, the sight of his cranky girl in her milk-stained robe standing in the kitchen, gently rocking Clementine as she holds the pretty stems.

“Why are you laughing?” Y/N sniffs, lifting her hand to quickly wipe tears away from her cheeks.

“Because you just look so cute right now,” he says with a grin. He takes the flowers back from her, murmuring out something about putting them in a vase.

“Sometimes I do wonder if you’re certifiably insane.” Y/N mutters, partially to herself. When she glances down at a milk drunk Clem, a smile quirks at the edges of her lips. “What do you think, Clemmie? Is dada crazy?”

Harry knows that this isn’t the traditional family he dreamed about, that having a baby with Y/N was a risk he was only willing to take because he always wanted to be a dad — but shit, he’s so happy.

(Y/N is, too. She’s over the moon, with the way gratitude feels like it fills up her body in a way she’s never experienced before. And she knows she’s awful at expressing her feelings, but when she glances back up at Harry, eyes twinkling with a healthy blush over her cheeks and a smile on her lips, he knows. He just knows.)

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whaledenwtf · 4 months

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Can I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin react to Karlach telling him that his gn crush likes him too but they're too shy to confess?

YES!!! I'm sorry this took so long, but its been in queue this whole time Love this idea!!

REQUEST HERE BG3 Masterlist

Headcannons: Astarion, Gale, Wyll and Halsin reacting to Karlach telling him that gn!reader likes them back but they are too shy

Warnings: None. This is just fluff and cuteness

I tried to write as much as possible but the way Halsin as a character is... I wrote it shorter considering he seeks you out in game, and wouldn't hesitate to do so in this case either. First time I write Wyll too, so I hope I gave his character justice 💞

Astarion

He felt frustrated for the longest time. How can his flirting not get to you?

He's been trying so hard to get you under his thumb.

Gods why aren't you being seduced

He sees those little blushes and rapid heartbeat so he knows it affects you.

Admittedly, he started falling for you because you weren't jumping his bones.

This man is broken, but with you he feels mendable.

He begins to slow down with the flirting, but his gazes went from calculating to longing.

Its so embarrassing that Karlach speaks up

"When will you realize they like you? Aren't you supposed to have sharp senses? Some kind of vampire you are..." She tells him one day, while they were at camp.

He drops his dagger, almost stabbing his foot.

"I'll choose to ignore that last part. Repeat what you said." He asks her again.

"They. Like. You. Too." She told him, grinning. His eyes widen at the revelation.

"I couldn't wait anymore. I feel so much better now that I've gotten that out of my system. I hate keeping secrets." She turns around, speaking to no one in particular as she walks away.

He felt... elated. You like him back!

He considers what this means for his future.

On the one hand, you could be by his side. On the other, he feels this sense of worry. Between his undead nature, and your very much not undead nature, what will that mean for you both.

He cards a hand through his curls, sighing.

He might be getting ahead of himself! After all, you still don't know that he knows that you like him.

Maybe he should say something?

He ponders what to do for the rest of the day, distracted.

Gale

Oh gods, he was so nervous around you

He tried flirting, but the things he said were so embarrassing

He still can't believe he said he likes your musk

That one-liner haunts his dreams- well nightmares

He sees how easily you flirt back with Astarion and it makes him feel... insecure (much more than he currently is)

Everytime he tries to convey his adoration for you, he says something awkward and all you can do is blush

He thought you liked what he was saying, but you haven't responded to any of his adoration

Oh Mystra, what if you blush because you're embarrassed of him

He is trailing behind the group by a couple paces, clenching and unclenching his fists with a frown on his face

"What's the problem?" Karlach whispers into his ear.

He jumps in fear, snapping out of his sad thoughts.

"Oh, Karlach! Just pondering some things..." He can't help but look at your back longingly. Karlach hums, grinning.

"Do your problems involve a special leader of ours?" She says normally. The distance has grown enough between the two and the rest of your group, but it doesn't help Gale's anxieties.

"Keep your voice down! Please." He whisper shouts. Karlach raises her hands in the air, surrendering.

"I don't understand why you're so worried Gale, they like you too." His head snaps to Karlach, his eyes searching for any deceit in her words.

"I'm sorry?" Karlach furrows her brows.

"You're forgiven?" He shakes his head.

"I was asking you to repeat yourself." He says tiredly. Her eyebrows raise.

"Oh! Well, (Y/N) likes you too."

"And how do you know this?" Karlach rubs the back of her neck.

"A birdie told me."

"A birdie." He says, deadpanned.

"Fine. It was (Y/N)." She says quietly.

Truth! And from the source, no less!

Oh gods, he was elated! Maybe he should think of other things to say to you.

Karlach leaves him be as he goes back to pondering what he should say to you.

"Your musk reminds me of home" He thinks this one's good. Until he remembers he lives next to the ocean.

I don't think they would like to be compared to fish...

Back to square one

Wyll

He really tried, the poor thing

He compares you to the most wonderful of things

The sun, the moon, the warm summer air, the cool nights filled with music and soft spoken words

He himself said he'd like to take things slow, and he is.

He'd just appreciate knowing if you felt the same way.

Today you were all traversing the woods surrounding the Emerald Grove, trying to find answers to the worms inside your skulls.

He was walking alongside Karlach, a companionable silence between them.

"You know... there's been some romances in our group recently." His ears perk at her words.

"Oh really?" He couldn't help being curious. Romance is such a beautiful thing, especially in perilous times like these.

"Shadowheart and Lae'zel... Astarion and Halsin. There's also (Y/N)-" She cuts herself off, throwing her hand over her mouth to stop talking. His head snaps to her, looking at her.

"Our leader has found romance?" He tries to ask coolly, but he can't help but feel slightly hurt.

"Well- I mean... They have a crush on someone." Wyll's heart clenches at the thought. Was it Gale? Maybe it's Karlach-

"That's... good." Karlach bites her lip.

"They told me, and now I feel like a bad friend for spilling their secret..." He furrows his brows, thinking about who you may have a crush on. What if it was on Astarion? Or Halsin... He couldn't compete with all that muscle-

"At least I didn't say they had a crush on you-" Karlach says, trying to calm herself down. When she realizes what she said, she slaps her hand over her mouth again. Wyll's eyes widen.

"They do?" He feels hopeful, for the first time in a long time.

She nods, hand still covering her mouth.

Wyll looks around, making sure no one is listening, before whispering to Karlach.

"I like them too." She squeals into her hand, jumping up and down in excitement.

He walks around with a newfound confidence, and makes sure to stay close to you and talk.

He never realized how much you blushed when he spoke to you, and it was adorable.

Halsin

He tried to be so delicate with you since he knew he was.. a lot

He may be an animal to some extent but he saw how delicate you were

He'd call you his little flower, and you'd always blush

Your shy nature made him unsure if you liked him

He was confident, sometimes stupidly so, as evident from his scars

He really should have known about bear mating season

He spent most of time in camp pacing back and forth, thinking

Despite the Shadowcurse taking up most of his headspace, like Selune, you were a guiding light in his thoughts

He loved your laugh, the crinkles by your eyes, the face you make when you're pondering something.

He would always stare and watch you in amazement.

Apparently his affections were too noticeable, considering Karlach of all people came up to him.

"Gods, I can't believe I have to be a messenger" was the first thing he heard, with the crunch of her boots on fallen foliage.

She walks into his view and waves at him.

"Hello-"

"They like you too." She said before walking away.

His eyes widen at her, before he processes the words.

They... like him too

Nobody has ever seen the gargantuan elf run so quickly in their time together.

He picks you up and spins you around, laughing loudly.

"They didn't ask you to tell him, did they?" Shadowheart whispers to Karlach as they watch them spinning and laughing loudly.

"No. I was just tired of the longing looks." Karlach tells her, smiling at her skillful execution as Cupid.

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader #fluff #teeth rotting fluff #sweet #karlach #astarion x reader

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neil-gaiman · 11 months

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Hi Neil!

I don't want to sound like a killjoy, but I'm concerned about David Tennant's family being involved in the second season of Good Omens (or Michael Sheen's partner Anna Lundberg in a future season three). I absolutely have nothing against them, I loved Staged just like everyone else, but this is exactly the matter for me: casting them in the series would automatically make me think about Staged or something else while I'm watching GO, and it would distract me from the plot and the magic of it. It would feel somehow like a family reunion, no matter how talented they are as actors (not to mention that there would be nepotism accusations, above all against David. I hope this won't affect the popularity rating, since season three is still hypothetical). I'm not the only one who thinks this might be an issue, from what I read on blogs here on Tumblr (and on the Internet in general) but I feel like there's a sort of tension, like people are scared to say it out loud, because some fans get the wrong idea and accuse them of hating Georgia or Anna or Ty (and that's why I'm asking this anonymously, I don't want to start a fight). I hope you get what I'm saying, it only felt fair to me to let you know whatever concerns some fans might have, and maybe even give you a perspective you weren't considering? Of course you have the last word on this, and if you think this is not a big deal, I trust your judgement.

I wish you a fantastic day! (And sorry for my English, I'm not native, I tried my best!)

Yeah. So, I find that a little creepy, not very creepy, but definitely a bit.

I thought we were lucky to get Peter Davison in Good Omens 2. (He didn't audition. We offered him the part, as I've been a fan of his since 1978, and All Creatures Great and Small. He crushes it, and is heartbreaking, funny, and still somehow the moral compass of the episode he's in.) Ty Tennant auditioned, along with a number of other actors, and got the part because he did it best. (I didn't know who his family was when we cast him. I just liked the audition tape.)

If you're hunting down family connections, David's mother-in-law, Ty's grandmother, Sandra Dickinson, is in the Audible Sandman, too, as one of the Three Witches/Fates/Eumenides etc. And she was cast in it two years before David Tennant (although probably around the same time Michael Sheen was asked to be Lucifer). (I've been a fan of Sandra's since she was Trillian in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in 1981.)

Anyway, I'm sorry you're worried about Peter and Ty's performances, although I promise you have nothing to worry about, and I'm sorry that you worry that our possibly casting Georgia and Anna in a hypothetical and not-yet actually a real thing Season 3 might make people think of Staged and make them not able to enjoy Good Omens any longer. (Had I known people were this easily shaken I wouldn't have appeared in Staged either, in case my name at the front of Good Omens shattered the fragile illusion and revealed to people that the David Tennant and Michael Sheen who play Crowley and Aziraphale are actors.)

Starting in 2017 I was the recipient of mind-mangling quantities of Tumblr abuse for casting David Tennant and Michael Sheen as Aziraphale and Crowley, which was, many people made very clear to me, the worst casting in the whole entire utter history of casting, and something that Good Omens would never recover from, because for a start neither of them looked like the versions in people's heads, and I'd also miscast them badly because everyone knew that if you had to cast Sheen and Tennant, Michael had to play Crowley and David had to put on some weight and play Aziraphale. (It wasn't until May 2019 that people stopped grumbling.) So people worrying I'm going to cast Anna and Georgia in a season that hasn't even been commissioned in parts that haven't been written just makes me smile.

I hope this helps.

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fullfriendnerdclutch · 1 month

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Rites: St Patrick's Day

It's a day celebrated by many people, especially Irish community. And in such a blessed festivities, several Irish-descent gained some kind of magical development blessed only on the time window of St. Patrick Day.

I've been hella distracted all day long, and it's all because of my roommate Patrick. He's always been a rather sporty guy from the get go, and I'm pretty much used to the fact that we're not necessarily that close as a roommate since we have totally different interest anyway. But, ever since he walked back in to the dorm after his shower this morning only rocking that towel, I simply couldn't take my eyes off him.

He's pale as fuck, yes, and not like that muscular or anything, but it's just super enchanting to see him glide around our dorm and dress himself up for the day. Since we have separate bedroom and only connected by this study-common section, we have our privacy and moments to ourselves rather easily. He decided to be a bit loud with all the oohs and aahs as he probably checked himself out. I was sure I heard him say something about his "slightly tanned skin" or "veinous muscular arms that make people feral" or even "my fat and girthy uncut cock" but well.....I think I would be a bit proud too over my body development if I have a studly physique like his

I remembered some of our final convo before we left for our respective schedule as he exited his bedroom and ready to leave earlier than me

"Clean the bathroom before you leave for your class, okay?"

"Can you take care of my laundry first? You don't have class till 2 PM, right? You can sniff it if you want HAHAH! Nevermind, just do my laundry, okay?"

"Come and watch me play with my buds after your class, okay? We'll play in the outdoor field, then we can head back to the dorm together, sounds nice, right?"

And I simply said yes to all of that. On top of that, even when he left, the obsession remain for me. I bet I spent most of my day daydreaming about him rather than putting on any substantial work whatsoever to my classes.

I found myself scrolling through IG and rewatching his stories upload about his workout session before I eventually dashed to the basketball court to watch him play as my classes wrapped for the day.

I followed all Patrick's movement on the court and practically ignored the other players, it's like as if he's my world and I need to focus all my attention to him. Eventually, when the sweating, post-basketball-reek Patrick brought me to his car, he simply put me in my place as he said

"Now be a good faggot and start huffing. This is the shit that keeps you going, this gives you satisfaction when you can prove that you served me well, right?"

And just like that, I accepted that as my truth

#male transformation #male muscle growth #reality change #oblivious #male mind control #male manipulation

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familyvideostevie · 6 months

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october thirtieth

day thirty: james potter you find a photo of the two of you in james's pocket | established relationship, fluff | 1k

“James, have you seen my lipstick?”

No reply. You check your makeup bag one more time but can't find it.

“James!”

“What?”

His voice is muffled. You leave the bathroom and follow it, finding him standing in the closet frowning at his dress shirts. You press into his side, wrapping yourself around his bare torso. “Your face is going to stick like that if you're not careful.”

He drags his hand up and down between your shoulder blades. “I have to be the best-dressed bride of a vampire out there, darling. You know that.”

Silly, silly man. The event of the evening is Halloween-themed drinks at the popular bar on the high street. You had to book a table and everything and James has been looking forward to it all month.

He came up with your costumes: you, a dangerous and beautiful vampire, and him, your willing and handsome bride.

“Well, best of luck to you. Have you seen my lipstick? The red one?”

You need it to draw the punctures on his neck and lines of blood from the corners of your mouth. James pulls himself from your hold and selects a shirt, finally, buttoning it up halfway and messing with his hair in the mirror.

“I don't have it, darling,” he says.

You sigh. Easily distracted, this one. “I gave it to you the other night to hold.”

He snaps his fingers. “So you did. It must be in my jacket pocket.”

“Which one?” You swear James has more clothes than you.

“Which jacket or which pocket?”

“James.”

He winks at you, glasses flashing. “Brown jacket, not sure which pocket.”

You leave him to his fussing and find it hanging on the hook in the entryway.

The lipstick is not in the right pocket or the left. You hope he's not lost it because it's a great color and you really don't want to have to draw the blood on in purple, or something, but then you feel something lipstick-shaped in the breast pocket.

“Jackpot,” you mutter. You pull the tube from the pocket but out with it comes a piece of paper.

It's creased and wrinkled, as if it's been handled many times. You unfold it and —

Oh. You think you say that out loud.

It's you and James. A photo from ages ago. Years, actually. It's you two on the night you met. A party of Lily's, something she did often in those days to bring people together, and this one was a game night. You and James had been paired up for charades and you'd absolutely crushed the competition. You remember feeling like you could read each other's minds.

In the photo you're holding the trophy — a tiny, plastic thing Lily had bought at a discount store — and you're smiling so wide you can see all of your teeth. James has his arm slung around you and he's looking right at you instead of at the camera.

His expression shocks you. You've seen hundreds of photos of the two of you together where he's got this look on his face, the one that you know to be love. And in the photo you've just found, one of the first day you met, he's looking at you the same way. Like he's in love.

“Darling?” he calls. “Did you find it?” he wanders down the hall, fully dressed, and you turn to him.

“Yes,” you say, breathless. “James, why do you have this in your jacket?”

“Hm?” He slides his hand over your hip and leans in to look, face brightening when he see's what you've found. “Have you not seen this before? I suppose I've kept it in there since Lily gave it to me.”

You just stare at it.

“God, it's so obvious I was gone for you,” he sighs.

You turn your head so you're looking at him, so close you could count his eyelashes. “You were?”

“Darling, I was utterly ass over tit for you from the start. In love the second you opened your mouth.”

“Don't be silly, James.”

He looks offended. “No, it's true! I remember the whole thing. I was late and you'd been freed up from work at the last minute so we didn't have partners when Lily said to make teams. And you looked at me and said, 'You better be good at this, because I am.' And I said, 'I will win you this if it's the last thing I do.'”

“Which was a bit dramatic,” you mutter.

“And you didn't even tell me your name until we won.”

“That is how it went, I suppose. You really fancied me because I was a bit overcompetative?”

James snorts. “Come on, love, is that really so hard to believe?”

You look at the picture again. It isn't, considering you were similarly smitten that night, but it's still a bit like a fairy tale.

“No, I guess not.”

“I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with you at first sight?” James presses a kiss to your temple. “You're funny —” he kisses your brow “— sweet —” your nose “— lovely —” your cheek.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say, shoving him off. “We need to finish getting ready, James, or we'll be late.”

He bares his neck for you. “Blood me up, baby.”

You laugh, slip the photo back into his jacket, and drag him back to the bathroom. “You're so weird.”

“And you looooove it.”

“You're the one who carries that photo round all the time!”

Just saying it makes your heart swell. It's a small thing in the grand scheme of your relationship. James shows you he loves you all the time — in his words, his actions. The way he looks at you. How he always buys your favorite flavor soda at the shop when he sees it. The way he knows how to wake you from a nap without startling you. His touch in a crowded room and his gaze when he senses you need something.

So, yeah, a photo in his jacket pocket is nothing, really. But he clearly looks at it often and thins about that first night.

You lean in and kiss him without warning. He makes a surprised noise but leans into it, hand cupping the back of your neck. Maybe it's alright if you're a little late.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction

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grims-sunshine · 6 months

Text

🤍 I've got the Magic Touch 🤍

Summary: Gale catches you reading an erotic novel. While you read it, he takes your pleasure into his own hands.

Pairing: Gale x Tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Established relationship; takes place after the events of the game; f!reader; breast groping; some fingering

Content for the novel: Kinda generic, cliché smut; mostly making out and a blowjob

Note: This is a reupload because the fic wasn't showing in the tags. Usually I dislike doing this, but to be totally honest I put a ton of effort into this fic and was pretty sad when literally only one person saw it because Tumblr is a bully. So here's to hoping it works out this time.

Felix pushed Sylvanna up to the wall, finally taking what he'd been craving for so long and giving her what she'd been waiting for ever since that one night.

"I just can't control myself around you," he whispered, the words hardly more than a deep growl from within his chest.

"Then don't," Sylvanna breathed in response, offering herself to him fully.

"What are you reading there, love?"

Gale's voice abruptly pulls you out of the book you've been reading. Startled by his sudden presence, you snap it shut, praying to whichever god will listen that he didn't take a peek at the pages before making himself known.

You're usually comfortable around Gale, but something about him finding out that you're reading filthy erotica in the middle of the day fills you with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Just some old tome I've picked up from the bookstore earlier," you lie, cursing yourself for the way your voice cracks. You're not a great liar, and Gale knows you too well to be easily fooled.

"Do you need anything?" You add the question, hoping it'll be enough to distract him.

When you lean back head far to look at Gale, looming over you, staring back with an amused expression.

"Why? Can't a wizard just walk into his own reading room anymore?" Gale asks with a chuckle, holding up his hands. He walks around the small couch in the middle of the room to sit next to you. You notice him prying at the book, so you promptly cover it with your hands.

"No, no, I'm just asking," you say, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Gale's cheek. "It's your home, of course you're always welcome here."

"Well, you've been spending a lot of time in here. I'd almost consider it your personal space by now," Gale says with a fond smile.

He's not wrong. This has quickly become one of your favorite spots in the whole tower, ever since you moved back to Waterdeep with him. It's comfortable, cozy, and perfect for rainy and cold days when you don't want to sit outside while reading.

Not to mention, the couch is big enough to fit the both of you on it. This has led to many evenings spent in here, doing things far more interesting than reading books with each other, which certainly adds to this being your favourite space.

"So, what's your book about?" Gale continues. "You seemed rather… Engrossed by it just now." You should've known he wouldn't just drop it. On the surface it seems like an innocent enough question. You often tell each other about your latest reads, discussing what's happening at great length. But this time, there's something else hidden under the innocent act, that you can't quite pin down. Maybe it's the slight smile tugging at his lips, or the glint in his eyes when he looks at you.

You shrug. "Just some cheesy, run of the mill romance. You'd probably find it rather boring." You try to sound as casual as you can, but even you can tell it's failing terribly. Gale isn't stupid, after all.

"Romance, huh?" Gale nods, giving you a look that says he doesn't believe a word you're saying. "So, which part of the romance has you squirming and pressing your thighs together?" He gives you a smirk.

You feel the heat rush to your face in an instant and Gale laughs upon seeing your expression, pulling you into a hug. "I'm not judging you. I was genuinely curious about what you're reading. It really did seem like you were enjoying yourself, so I wanted to know what got you so… worked up." He says it with a sincerity that makes your embarrassment melt away.

You uncover the book that you'd been hiding under your hands up until now and hand it to Gale.

The cover alone would probably be enough for anyone to tell what the book's contents are: A woman in a silky robe that barely covers her body, leaning against a faceless male figure, posessively holding her in his arms.

Gale inspects the cover, then turns his attention back to you. "What's it about?"

You sigh. "Well, it's this woman… Who becomes the apprentice of a powerful wizard… And she lives in his tower and they… You know."

You feel another rush of embarrassment as Gale nods, raising his eyebrows. "Interesting."

You sigh, feeling the way your cheeks flush. "I'm not just reading it because you're a wizard and I'm fantasizing about you or anything like that. It's just… Well, the smut scenes are pretty good," you admit, averting your eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking that. Although I certainly wouldn't mind you fantasizing about me," Gale assures you, chuckling a little. "But I am intrigued now. Is it really that good?"

You nod. "Yes, it's pretty good. You can read it once I'm done, if you'd like." This isn't Gale's usual taste in books, but he seems interested enough.

Gale thinks for a moment, shakes his head. "Actually, I've got a much better idea." He leans against the back of the couch, half lying down, and pats the space between his legs. "Come here," he says. He looks up at you with a warm smile.

You can guess what he has in mind already. This is how you usually sit when you're reading a book together. It seems like a good enough solution -- You can continue reading, and perhaps Gale's curiosity will be sated as well.

You lie down with your back against Gale's chest. He wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your temple before comfortably resting his head on your shoulder.

You're nestled in Gale's embrace, surrounded by his warmth. It's your favourite feeling in the world, being comfortable and safe in his arms.

He hands your book back to you and you open it where you last left off, beginning to read once again.

Felix didn't waste any time giving in to his desires. He pulled Sylvanna into a passionate kiss, their bodies practically melting together.

Sylvanna felt how hard he was, pressing up against her. She cupped him with her hand and began to slowly stroke him, earning her a low moan from him.

Your attention drifts from the words on the page to the sensation of Gale's lips, soft against your neck, followed by the subtle scratching of his beard over your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses there. Your breath hitches and you let your head sink back to grant him more access. To your surprise, Gale stops almost immediately and you feel him smile against your skin, almost smug.

"Keep reading," he says, his voice a little lower than usual, before continuing his trail of kisses. You can sense a hint of amusement in his voice -- He's enjoying this.

So this was his plan. You decide to go along with it, turning your focus back on the book once more.

Sylvanna dropped to her knees, fumbling to get Felix's pants off him. She was desperate to taste him, to be the one taking the lead for once.

S he looked up at Felix as she began slowly stroking his cock before licking a stripe up the shaft, teasing the tip with her tongue.

Once again, your reading is interrupted when you feel Gale's hands travel across your body, grasping at your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. You gasp as his touch goes bolder, hiking up your shirt just enough to be able to reach underneath it. His hands find your breasts once again, massaging them and gently tugging at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

It makes it all the harder to focus on your book, when all you want is to sink into Gale, close your eyes and let his touch take you to oblivion.

His movements stop again, shattering you bliss. "Try to stay focused, love," Gale whispers, followed by a kiss pressed right underneath your ear. It takes you a moment to catch on, to clear the fog that's been taking over your brain at his touch. The book.

You try to clear your mind and take in the words, but you're far too distracted by Gale to fully make sense of what you're reading. It's more like your eyes absentmindedly skim the pages while your thoughts keep slipping away.

When she finally put him in her mouth, Felix groaned deeply.

As she started sucking him off, he buried his hand in her hair, gently leading her movements.

He cursed under his breath. "Fuck, you're perfect. I should've given in to this desire sooner."

Gale's hands wander down your body, gently pulling your legs apart and stroking your thighs. As one of his hands pushes past the hem of your pants and underwear you feel a rush of excitement. His fingers slowly begin parting your folds and you can't help but let out a small moan.

You can only imagine how wet you must be already from everything. It only gets worse when he begins rubbing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. You let out a small whimper and your hips involuntarily buckle up against him, causing Gale to use his free hand to gently push you back down, holding you in place.

"You haven't turned that page in a while," Gale notes, sounding amused. He doesn't stop what he's doing this time and you thank the gods for it. You're not sure what you'd do if he stopped touching you right now.

You only hum in response, hardly making sense of his words.

One of his fingers finds your hole, pushing a single digit inside and you let out another whimper.

"Well? Won't you keep going?" Gale asks again, although by the tone of his voice, you're sure he knows the answer already.

"Can't… Focus," you finally manage to say, and Gale hums in response. You feel the vibrations in his chest and somehow it only makes you even dizzier.

"I suppose you've gotten far enough," Gale says, grazing your flushed cheek with his lips.

He uses the hand that had been holding you in place to grab the book and set it aside.

"Well, this allows me to move a little better, so I don't mind either." He smirks and pulls you a little closer against him.

You can feel his own arousal pressing against your back, but your attention quickly gets pulled away when Gale fully pushes his first finger inside of you, slowly pumping it in and out. Your hips push against him once again, but he doesn't press them down this time, allowing you to fully embrace the pleasure.

Gale adds a second finger, picking up the pace along with it.

Your head rolls back against his shoulder, somehow finding Gale's lips for a passionate kiss. You squirm in his arms, whimpers growing louder as Gale manages to hit the spot that sends you over the edge.

He continues to pump his fingers while you shake and cry out in pleasure, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and you sink back against Gale, feeling lightheaded. Gale holds you close, pressing soft kisses against your temple as he lets you catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you manage to say after a while, finally able to form words again.

"Agreed," Gale says with a smile. "Although I hope you're up for a second round. There's something I could use a little help with."

#bg3 #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale smut #gale x reader smut #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #Baldur's gate gale #leave it to gale to seduce someone with a book right?#fun fact: The couple in the book is a barely disguised reference to an old otp of mine from another fandom #praying that the tags work this time or else I'm gonna snap

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fatbellyboysstuff · 11 months

Text

I've seen many feedees write about how theyd love to be able to not work and just laze around, being spoiled like princesses/princes. and as much as I love this for them (I hope you get to live that dream someday!!) I can't really relate because I actually love my job/going to work! so here are some fantasies and thoughts for those of us who want to keep working:

getting fast food breakfast at a drive through on your way to work everyday

your feeder packing you a big lunch everyday

your uniform becoming tighter and tighter, having to ask for a size up constantly until your boss tells you they don't have larger sizes

eating so much lunch it'd have been enough for three of your coworkers and then trying to secretly rub your aching gut at your desk

having a snack drawer in your desk, snacking mindlessly while working, easily getting an extra 1000 kcal in every day

your ever fattening belly starting to push into the desk, your chair digging into your love handles more and more

your coworker bringing in cake on their birthday and giving you two pieces without you even asking

everyone around you talking about their newest fad diet while you are so proud of reaching your latest gaining goal

noticing your new fat getting in the way more and more, no matter what you do.

getting home all tired after being on your feet all day, your feeder waiting for you with a large home cooked meal. stuffing your gut til you feel like you're going to burst, leaving you still bloated the next morning

spending your days off just laying around, eating and eating and eating, your work clothes ever so slightly smaller on your next work day

your boss reassigning you to different tasks that are less physically demanding, making you burn less calories and growing fatter even faster

feeling yourself getting distracted from your work more often because of all the new softness on your body

being so aware of your size all the time, feeling your body jiggle with the slightest movement, getting more confident the more you grow

just some things I keep on thinking about, if you have more, feel free to add some! 🥰🤤

#fatbellyboytext #weight gain kink #gaining weight on purpose #feedism.#feederism.#wg encouragement #feedee text #feedee encouragement

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nerdyqueerandjewish · 2 months

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7 Types of Rest

I've been reading a bit about this and jotting down some notes because the framework is helpful for communicating my different kinds of exhausted and gives me ideas on how to help myself more, and idk I thought I would share because I think other people might find it useful or interesting. I don't have just one article on it to recommend because unfortunately they are almost all trying to sell you their telehealth services or a meditation app or whatever.

**Disclaimer that resting isn't going to fix everything, examples of things to do aren't going to be accessible to everyone, they are just meant to be a start to brain storming, this is not medical advice etc...**

Physical - Relates to activities that are physically restorative

Mental - Relates to taking a break from mental stimulation

Spiritual - Relates to the fundamental need for belonging, purpose and acceptance

Emotional - Relates to being able to experience and express your real and authentic feelings

Sensory - Relates to giving your senses a break from stimulation

Social - Relates to feeling energized by spending time with people who contribute to your life in positive, supportive, and meaningful ways

Creative - Relates to appreciating beauty or feeling awe/wonder

Notes I made for "signs you need x type of rest" and actually getting that type of rest are under the cut. Again, they are personal so take them with a grain of salt. Also some of my notes on things I could do would definitely apply to others. I didn't want to keep writing "go outside" and "journal" for over half of them lol.

Physical Rest

Signs you may need physical rest

Feeling fatigued, body aches and pains

Feeling mentally sluggish or foggy

Getting some relief

Prioritize getting good quality sleep

Go on walks or engage in other gentle physical activity

Stretch throughout the day

Getting a massage (maybe trade with a friend or partner?)

Improve the ergonomics of your workspace

Mental Rest

Signs you may need mental rest

Unable to concentrate or recall simple things

Unable to relax

Racing thoughts

Getting some relief

Schedule breaks throughout the day

Write things down (can help racing thoughts or things you're worried about forgetting)

Do a satisfying activity that doesn't require much thought (example: coloring pages, simple craft)

Spiritual Rest

Signs you may need spiritual rest

Feeling lack of purpose or belonging

Getting some relief

Get involved in local community

volunteer

pray or meditate

Emotional Rest

Signs you may need emotional rest

Feeling weighed down

Stifling/suppressing feelings

Strong need to please others

Getting some relief

Talk to someone who allows you to be your authentic self

Participating in a peer support group

Journaling

Sensory Rest

Signs you may need sensory rest

Feeling energized at the start of the day, but becoming more irritable as the day progresses

Getting distracted by noises other people seem to be able to tune out

Getting some relief

Use dimmable lighting or lamps

Regularly set notifications to do not disturb

Use power strips to easily turn off multiple appliances at once

Avoid running loud appliances during busy parts of the day (ex. if washing machine is loud, don't run it while you're trying to pack and get out the door on time)

Social Rest

Signs you may need social rest

Feeling drained, exhausted

Feeling like your only interactions are with people who want/need something from you

Getting some relief

Nurture life-affirming, meaningful relationships

Make time for socializing with friends who don't "need" anything from you, where you can just enjoy each other's company

If you know you will be interacting with someone you find draining, make a plan to engage in social rest after

Creative Rest

Signs you may need creative rest

Feeling "blah"

Struggling with problem solving or brainstorming

Getting some relief

Go out in nature

Spend time in inviting spaces

Listen to music

Watch a skilled performer

Display items you find visually appealing in both home and work spaces

#long post #I would like to share more of my notes on things but idk what a tag for that would be #rest

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lovelybrooke · 4 days

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Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)

---

A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...

masterlist

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Dear My Child of Man,

I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it.

Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful.

I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing.

I long for you, I've learned.

I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you.

You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place.

Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess.

You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all.

But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you.

Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you.

I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love.

Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.

---

A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst malleus #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

The batfam as teacher comment section in report card.

Dick: Mr. Grayson brings a contagious energy to the class and his enthusiasm is well-appreciated. However, he tends to channel that energy very physically and while that may benefit his learning, it's a disruption to other students. This is a frequently recurring issue that I would like to discuss with a parent or guardian.

Translation – Is this kid ADHD because he won't sit the FUCK down

Jason: Mr. Todd has displayed remarkable attention to detail and a love of literature that I can only attribute to positive reinforcement at home, and he's always a pleasure to have in class. As much as I appreciate seeing him apply his lessons outside of school hours, I believe there are more productive avenues of discussing Shakespearean playwriting with his peers than what he has been reportedly doing.

Translation – Stop biting your thumb at people

Tim: Mr. Drake continues to exceed expectations in his schoolwork, but his attendance and participation may become a detriment to his overall grades if unaddressed. I have caught him sleeping in class on multiple occasions but he has yet to provide me a reason why he is so tired. Additionally, last month one of our monitors caught him loitering in the bathroom with a note that I did not recall writing.

Translation – Get some sleep and also you can't make your own hall passes

Damian: I have had the privilege of teaching the Wayne family through my decades at this institution and I believe that Damian takes after his father the most in more ways than expected. His grades are stellar and he is well-organized, but I'm noticing familiar and concerning traits in his attitude and social interactions. I am requesting a meeting with his parent to understand the full context so I can devise a plan for out how to best support him.

Translation – Forget falling, the apple is still on the damn tree

Duke: Mr. Thomas has been a pleasure to have in my chemistry lab and is always willing to help classmates who are struggling. However, after last week's minor combustion reaction mishap, I think it would be worthwhile to review the lab safety packet that all students received at the beginning of the year.

Translation – How did you set water on fire

Cullen: Mr. Row displays a passion for transformative literature and demonstrates a clear understanding of modern media culture that has helped him synthesize a lot of our complex readings. However, I'm concerned about his laptop being a distraction, especially with numerous incidences of him looking at non-academic material.

Translation – Quit reading fanfics in class

Stephanie: You should be pleased to know that Miss Brown consistently keeps the well-being of her peers in mind. This semester, she launched a meal initiative for students whose needs could not be met by the school cafeteria. While we value her good intentions, she has been causing hallway obstructions and there are some regulatory concerns that we need to discuss.

Translation – She sold pancakes in the halls without a permit

Cassandra: Although Miss Cain is relatively quiet in class, she continues to blow me away with her breadth of knowledge not just on class materials, but also interpersonal details. While this is a good skill to cultivate, we ask that she dial it back especially with our faculty. Additionally, please remember that the teacher's lounge is a staff-only space and students should remain in the common areas.

Translation – She knows too much

Barbara: Miss Gordon is easily one of the best AP Computer Science students I've seen in my twenty years of teaching. She even went above and beyond the scope of our class to apply what we've learned to a greater school context. While that is deserving of credit, I'd also like to remind her that, in the future, certain ideas should be subjected to careful consideration before actions are taken.

Translation – She hacked the lunch menu to make every day French Fry Friday

Harper: Miss Row has a remarkable aptitude for the engineering process that exceeds beyond what students her age can typically grasp, and she is very inventive in her own right. That being said, I would appreciate it if she followed our lesson plans more closely and reviewed our guidelines for woodshop safety so everyone can continue to have a positive experience.

Translation – She made a working crossbow out of popsicle sticks

Carrie: Miss Kelley is a bright student who brings positive energy that is very much needed, especially in morning classes. However, she's been falling behind with several missing assignments at this point, and her explanations for why she cannot finish her work don't seem to be sufficient.

Translation – "Killer Croc ate my homework" Yeah and I'm Batman

Kate: Miss Kane seems to be very eager to move forward to the next stage of her life, as evidenced by her Career Day presentation. While I believe young people should be free to explore their passions, I also think that Kate would benefit from some workshops outlining more feasible options.

Translation – "Get bitches" isn't a career goal

Alfred: Mr. Pennyworth is easily one of the best students this institution has seen, both in his academic record and extracurricular activities. He recently expressed interest in the sharpshooting team, which I will not discourage him from, seeing how highly accurate he is. As of this year, I will be retiring as the coach for the team, but I wish him all the best.

Translation – I'm not about to get on his bad side

Selina: Miss Kyle's resourcefulness continues to astound me. Earlier in the semester, she forgot her locker combination and quickly improvised a mechanism to safely unlock it using only the materials around her. The speed and accuracy with which she did that will surely benefit her in the future.

Translation – Did... did she just pick a lock with another lock?

Bruce: No further comments.

Translation – whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—

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theelazaruspit · 6 months

Text

Lazy Sunday | Husband!John Price x Author!Reader

Getting some much-needed stress relief from your doting husband

Warning/content: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, gentle dom!price, established relationship, porn with plot, slow(ish) burn, angst, hurt/comfort, reader wears glasses, discussion of self-doubt and insecurity, cunnilingus, fingering, dumbification if you squint? (You’re just really relaxed), creampie, squirting, no use of y/n, they’re grossly in love idk what else to tell you honestly, but if I missed anything, let me know! Word count: 4.9k.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for ages, and I've been chipping away at it slowly, but after seeing @ghosts-cyphera 's husband!price drabble, I rose from the metaphorical dead, and here we are, so thank you, Alora, for being a fellow price enjoyer and just a gem, and I hope you all enjoy <3

Everything was just too much.

You’re stiff, jaw clenched, shoulders tense, and you can feel a migraine forming between your eyes. It’s a little ridiculous, really. By all accounts, you should be more relaxed. The hard work was finished, your novel was complete, the accompanying art had been chosen, and all the finer details were squared away; now, all that was left was publishing, though that was the publisher’s headache, not yours. It was the waiting that always got to you.

No matter how many times you’d gone through the process, no matter how many works you published, the anticipation never failed to eat away at you. There is a special kind of stress that comes with releasing your art into the world, in having people get a glimpse into your mind. While it’s gratifying to share your hard work with the masses, once it leaves you, it’s no longer only your own, and others are free to interpret it as they please. It’s deeply personal and scary like you’re bearing your soul to the public, but what’s done is done. All the late nights spent writing were over, and now you’re alone with your thoughts again.

You’ve tried everything to keep yourself busy. Your office is far cleaner now than it was before your husband left, both of your laundry was done with all the garments being put in their rightful place, and there was a cake on the counter from your late-night baking excursion a few days ago.

All of your usual distractions failed you. Nothing has been able to loosen the knot coiling itself in your chest. It’s silly; this is not your first book. The first was well received, a fact you should be grateful for, and you are. However, its success set a precedent. What if this one wasn’t as good? What if it didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations? The more questions you considered, the more withdrawn you became, allowing your doubts to swallow you whole. And that’s how you ended up back where you started, staring blankly at an empty document. You (foolishly) believed that writing could help, thinking a fresh idea would clear your conscience, but nothing comes. So you sit, hoping for anything to inspire you, but all you hear is the voice in the back of your head taunting you.

For a fleeting moment, you consider seeking the comfort of your husband; however, you quickly decide against it.

Not at all because you didn’t think he could soothe you. If anything, he knows better than anyone else how to keep you grounded, but you’re painfully aware of how rare it is for John to get time off, and it would be unfair to take that much-needed relaxation away from him with your problems. Still, you yearn for the solace he provides you. It’s absurd to miss someone who’s a mere twenty feet away, someone you could easily see. But, you stubbornly resist the temptation to steal his time, even if you know he’d want you to. He was insistent that you could never bother him, but you still had your doubts.

Compared to everything he goes through, your insecurities are small and insignificant; you can handle this on your own, even though you feel your eyes beginning to dry the longer you stare at the bright white void in front of you. A long groan escapes you as you toss your glasses unceremoniously onto your desk (had they fallen? You couldn’t be bothered to check) before burying your head in your hands.

“You’ve got this,” You mutter to yourself. It’s hardly convincing. Did you actually have this? You’re not entirely sure, but it doesn’t hurt trying.

You’re unsure how long you wallowed before your husband appeared in the doorway. Despite being uncharacteristically patient given the circumstances, you knew it was only a matter of time before he’d come to you. Rarely would you hide away in your office while he was home; usually, you’d rushed into his arms to steal his warmth every opportunity you got, but he tried to be understanding. Having him back in the house was just as much of an adjustment for you as it was for him, and he wanted to be considerate of that. Though his comings and goings had slowed considerably over the span of your relationship, he knew they still weighed on you, and he also knew you’d sooner die than admit that, so he gave you space.

But after another hour passes, his patience wears thin. This was a while even for you, and he wanted to make sure you were alright. So, ever the diligent lover, he prepares you a peace offering, a perfectly brewed cup of your favorite tea, and heads to your door.

His suspicions that you weren’t as well off as you claimed are confirmed when he’s greeted with the back of your hunched-over form, papers strewn across your desk. It takes one glance at you for John to know the kind of evening you’re having despite your best efforts to hide it. The stress practically radiates off you, casting a thick layer of tension in the room. The last thing he wants is to startle you, so he watches, waiting for you to acknowledge his presence. But the longer he rests against the doorframe, the sooner he realizes you haven’t noticed him yet, another sign that something isn’t quite right.

You didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you were thinking. He can practically hear the voices in your head lying to you, slowly breaking you down, and he feels his heart clench. It’s times like this when he wishes your mind was kinder to you, that it afforded you the same kindness you so freely gave others. He also wished you would let him help you. Your independence has always been something he admired and was one of the first things he noticed that drew him to you. You were radiant, ethereal, having an air of confidence and grace about you that followed you wherever you went, practically lighting your path.

However, your independence made it difficult for you to depend on him. He told you no fewer than a million times, practically pleaded with you to let him shoulder your burdens, to tell you that no problem was too small to tell him about, and while you’d opened up over the years, he could see that your walls were up. Nevertheless, he would do everything he could to chip away at them, to take you out of your head for a while.

He walks over to you slowly, placing the mug down before lightly rubbing your shoulders. You know he’s there, immediately feeling comforted by his presence, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You don’t want him to see you like this, not while you look like a sad puppy, but he persists, taking your silence as an invitation to speak.

“Made you some tea, love,” he says softly, receiving only a muffled hum of acknowledgment. Undeterred, he keeps massaging your shoulders, applying a bit more pressure, a soft smile gracing his features when you lean into his touch. His movements are slow intentional, wanting to ease you into the feeling.

He doesn’t have to look at your face, which has since been laid flat on your desktop, to know your brows are furrowed, and he wants nothing more than to smooth away the creases with his fingers.

Instead, he turns your chair to face him, forcing you to pick your head up. He ignores the whine you let out upon realizing that he’s not going to let you bask in your sadness in peace, as well as the glare you give him as you put your glasses on. There’s no malice behind your gaze, and he can see you fighting back a smile, causing his grin to widen.

“Good morning, lovely.”

“It’s not morning, and I probably look like shit” You sigh.

You’re right; it wasn’t morning, but the latter was far from the truth. John loved you in all your forms, but this, you at home in your comfy clothes, was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, even if you were being a little grouchy. He doesn’t take it personally. No, he knows you’re frustration is with yourself, which only motivates him to relax you more.

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay; you both know you aren’t, so he settles with a more helpful question: asking what you need. It’s more a formality than anything because he already knows the answer. It’s clear you don’t want to talk because if you did, you would have by now. He’s no stranger to nights spent holding you, listening to you vent about everything troubling you as you lay your head on his chest, and while he welcomes your rambles, you’re too tangled up in your thoughts to get the words out.

No, you needed something else. You needed a break; you needed someone you trusted to take control for a while, and who was better suited for the task than him? You both knew he wouldn’t move until you asked him to because even when he’s in control, he’s still at your mercy.

You don’t answer him immediately, not that he expected you to. For all his gentle coaxing, the question was surprisingly direct, and it caught you off guard. You know what you want. You want to climb into bed, wrap yourself in blankets, and sleep, and no matter how much you try to deny it, you also want to melt into your husband’s touch while you do. But with how restless you are, that seems impossible. To do that, first, you would need to relax, something you’re notoriously bad at. John would be eager to assist, to soothe the storm that rages within you, but you also know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t help you if you didn’t ask. So, reluctantly, you confess you’re having trouble relaxing, that there are too many thoughts running through your head to turn your brain off. Once you start, it’s as if you’ve opened Pandora’s box and you just break. All the emotions you’ve tried to suppress come pouring out mostly incoherently. In your frenzy, you barely notice that John moved to kneel in front of you until you feel his hand cup your jaw.

He doesn’t get too close, not wanting to overwhelm you, because he knows how hard this is for you already.

You’re a lot like him in that way, birds of a feather, he supposes, as you both have difficulty opening up and trusting others. He’s forever humbled by the fact that you, wonderfully amazing you, chose him, and it’s not something he takes for granted. He values all of the time you spend together, even if you aren’t in the best of spirits. God knows he’s had his fair share of melancholic moments that you worked him through, and it is at that moment he is determined to do the same for you, to help you feel better.

“Shh, it’s alright, love, I have you. There’s nothing you need to worry about. I’ll take care of everything, alright? I’ll give you what you need,” He reassures you in that low timbre you’ve missed so much. Your nod is rewarded with a light kiss on the cheek before he stands up, pulling you up from your chair with him.

You let out a yelp of surprise when he scoops you up and carries you towards your bedroom. His strength never fails to surprise you, but you don’t have time to dwell on it when he gently places you on the edge of your bed. For the second time tonight, he kneels before you, taking your hands in his while looking you in the eye.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?” His question is met with a scoff.

“Of course I do. I don’t think there’s anyone in this world that loves me more.”

“Well, I’d certainly hope not. Otherwise, we’d have a problem on our hands.” He chuckles, running his thumb over your knuckles before continuing, “I want you to do something for me. You’re so smart, love, bloody brilliant. But right now, I don’t want you to think. I just want you to feel. Can you do that f’me, angel? Let me make you feel good.”

You nod as you did before, only this time, you’re met with a shake of his head.

“Need your words, sweetheart”

The “please” that escapes you is more breathless than you expected. He had hardly touched you, and you could already feel a bit dazed by the intensity of his stare. Your soft confirmation is met with a smile before he works you out of your sweats and guides you to lay flat on the bed. He takes his time to press kisses up your thigh, slowly making his way to your center, nipping every now and then, eliciting little gasps from you. And while you appreciate his desire to worship you, you were getting impatient. The sight of him so close to where you need him but not touching you was almost too much to bear.

Before you can protest, he takes pity on you, slips your panties down, and rewards your patience with a long lick up your slit paired with a chaste kiss to your clit.

Your moment of reprieve doesn’t last long before he absolutely devours you, laving at your folds without another care in the world. The strokes of his tongue are slow but firm, his mouth practically molded to your form, following you no matter how much you move and shake. He wants to get you used to the feeling, give you time to surrender yourself to him, and you’re starting to. He sees the way you grasp at the sheets, mindlessly looking for something, anything to anchor you, and he’s quick to provide.

You hadn’t realized how much you were squirming until he pulled back, one calloused hand stroking your inner thigh with the other lacing his fingers with yours while instructing you to relax, reminding you to be good for him, to take all that he’s giving you. You look angelic, eyes rolled back, your body flushed, a sheen of sweat forming, and every touch driving you closer to the edge. But he knows it’s not enough. Had you been calmer and less frazzled, you would have reached your peak already, but right now, you need a push to help you over the edge.

When he takes his hand off your thigh and lets his fingers join his tongue, your back bows. If not for his firm grip, you may have fallen off the bed, but there is no need to worry about that. John’s got you; he always does.

It’s overwhelming having him so wholly focused on you, feeling his deep, muffled groans against your center, and it’s clear he wasn’t faring much better.

He may be helping you destress, but you know your husband well enough to know he’s enjoying this as much as you are, if not more. John Price is not a selfish man, far from it. Many have speculated that his selflessness will be his downfall. But, at this moment, he can’t help but think about himself. Can’t help but think about how his cock is straining in his trousers, which are becoming almost distractingly tight, about how he wants nothing more than to pump you full of his cum. But he’s a patient man. He understands that he’ll get there eventually. No, for now, he’s more than happy to have you soaking his beard. What’s important at this moment is getting you to cum on his tongue, on his fingers, because he knows the wetter you are, the easier it’ll be to slip into you, leaving him to settle for grinding himself against the bed for relief, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

Despite your whines and pleas for him to speed up, for him to give you more, he knows better. He keeps the same pace, knowing the slow build, while seemingly tortuous, will make you cum that much harder, and that’s exactly what he wants. He wants you boneless, without a single thought that isn’t him and how good he’s making you feel. There was no need to rush, you had all night, and there’s no place he’d rather be than here, with his fingers stuffed in your gorgeous pussy while he laps at your folds.

The sounds you two are making are nothing short of obscene. Your keens and his moans filled the room. And god, you were so fucking wet you were practically leaking down his wrist, and when your moans start rising in pitch, he knows you’re close. All it takes are a few more strokes of fingers before you’re cumming, your body going rigid with a broken sob. John works you through it, lapping up your spend and rubbing barely there circles around your clit to prolong your pleasure while patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.

When your trembling subsides, he carefully removes his fingers, using his now free hand to smooth over your thighs, murmuring praises about how well you did for him before standing, finally ridding himself of his clothes. You look so beautiful like this, spread out, panting, still glistening with your release. It just makes him want to ruin you, but always the gentleman, he checks in with you first.

“Still with me, love?” he teases, hands soothing at your sides, earning him a laugh, a genuine laugh. One that makes your eyes crinkle, and a chuckle of his own leaves him in response. It’s a good sign; it’s progress, but he knows you’re not entirely unwound yet. He knows you still have more left in you.

You pull him in for a kiss that he eagerly accepts. It’s tender, intimate. You can taste yourself on his lips, and John’s complete and utter reverence for you almost makes you shy. His love for you flows through him and pours into his touch when he deepens the kiss, and you can’t help but lean into it.

“I want more. I need to feel you,” you confess against his lips.

“How do you want me?” he murmurs, moving to trail kisses down your neck. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is ask,” and you know he means it. He’d bring you the moon and the stars if you wished.

“From behind, I don’t want to think about anything but how good you feel,” you said, pulling away to lay on your stomach before being stopped by John’s hand on your shoulder, turning you towards him. Your momentary confusion quickly dissipates when you realize what he’s doing.

He’s taking off your glasses.

Admittedly, in your haze, you’d forgotten you still had them on, so used to the familiar weight, but it makes your heart swell as you watch him place them delicately on your bedside table. It’s such a small gesture, but it’s endearing, and it reminds you how lucky you are to have such an attentive, caring lover, and you can’t help but pull him in for another kiss. John adores the lovestruck look you give him as you pull away, eyes bleary, pupils dilated. And though he could look at it all day, he reluctantly moves away, readjusting you so you’re face down on the bed before slotting himself between your legs.

A contented sigh leaves you as you settle into your plush bedding, feeling thankful you’d insisted on replacing those threadbare monstrosities your husband called “sheets” (he’d huffed and rolled his eyes at your dramatics– “they are not going to rip your skin off” –but deep down he loved them too) and close your eyes, sinking into John’s touch.

“Ready for me?” He questions, smoothing a hand up your spine, relishing in your shiver.

“Yes, need you to fuck me, John, please,” you breath, and who was he to deny you?

At your confirmation, he pushes in with a languid thrust, pulling you flush against him, giving you time to adjust. He can’t help but let out a low grumble at the view in front of him. He hasn’t even moved yet, and you’re already driving him insane. The feeling of being enveloped by you is indescribable. To be this close, to truly feel you, is unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and judging by the way you’re whimpering and trying to grind yourself back into him, he knows you feel the same.

He sets a steady pace, unhurried, leisurely, and revels in the quiet mewls you let out. The tension pulling your muscles taut dissipated with every thrust, and John couldn’t be happier because that’s what he wanted.

He wants to push all of those bad thoughts away. All he wants you to think about is him and how good he’s making you feel and to make you cum over and over until you’re spent.

“That feel good, love?” he whispers in your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

“Yes, f-fuck s’good,” you gasp out, followed by a broken “I love you” that he returns while quickening his pace, fucking you deeper. He can’t help it, really. Hearing the fondness in your voice makes him want to worship you more, causing him to aim for the spot that always makes you shake, and he knows he’s got it when he hears your high-pitched keen.

You’re begging now, desperate pleas of “Please don’t stop” and “right there,” and he doesn’t need to see your face to know that your eyes are scrunched closed, mouth agape, to know that you look stunning. He wishes he could see your face, to see you when you reach your peak that you’re edging closer and closer to, and he will, but after you cum again for him.

“That’s it, good girl, always takin’ me so well,” he praises. “Take what you need. I won’t stop, promise. Just want to make you feel so good don’t want you to think about anything but cumming. You close f’me, love? Yeah? That pretty little cunt gonna soak my cock?” he questions, lifting your hips to rub your aching clit, knowing all you need is a little pressure to send you over the edge.

Your words may be muffled, but your responding string of “yes” s are clear as day and only make him rut into you deeper. He needs you to fall over that edge again. Needs you to alleviate all that stress, and when you finally reach your peak with a muted sob of his name, he slows but doesn’t stop, watching in awe of the way you spasm around him, and waits for you to settle.

You’re more pliant now, a bit hazy with pleasure, but he’s not done with you yet. No, he needs you, his beautiful, distinguished wife, to fully surrender yourself to him and the pleasure he’s bringing you, even if only for a while. All those years ago, he vowed to protect you, even if it’s from yourself, and he plans to do just that. He knows you have one more in you, and he intends to wring it out of you.

A contented sigh escapes him as he pulls out before gently lifting you and laying you flat on your back once more. And when he sees your face, he’s reminded of just how breathtaking you are. Not that he ever forgot, but it’s a sight he never tires of. You’re one of the most precious beings he’s ever encountered, a goddess whom he’s eternally grateful has chosen to bless him with your presence, but now? Now, you’re glowing. He wishes he could immortalize the image in front of him, your eyes lidded, with a soft, blissed-out grin playing on your lips, but he’s brought back by the sound of your voice.

“You’re staring,” you tease, voice a little hoarse from use as you re-settle your glasses on your face.

“I could never get tired of looking at you, sweetheart,” he responds earnestly, unashamed that he had been caught because he truly could. There was just something about you that brought out such genuine affection in him. You give so much of yourself to others, and it makes him want to do everything in his power to pour the same love back into you. He can’t help but want to fulfill your every need. You deserve the world. Leaning into another kiss, he tries to convey what he can’t through words through his touch.

This is more passionate than the last, but he’s met with the same vigor from you. It’s easy to forget the task at hand, but your soft moans were enough of a reminder that he wasn’t finished with you yet.

Lowering you back onto the bed, he guides himself into you, a deep groan rumbling in his chest while your mouth falls agape. There’s less pretense this time. You’re more than ready for him to start moving and thank god for it because as patient as he is, he’s only human, and you’re both getting desperate.

And when he pushes your knees towards your chest, laying your legs over his shoulders, the sound you make is borderline pornographic, and it’s then he realizes you may actually be the death of him. Holding himself back is proving more difficult by the second, so he opts for placing kisses on your calves to ground himself. He moves his hands, one going to hold the fat of your thigh for leverage while the other goes to cup your jaw. Any other time, he’d coax you to look at him, applying just enough pressure to make you face him, but he can see how overwhelmed you are.

Peering down at you, gaze unwavering, he sees your eyes barely open, all cloudy and lust blown, and he can’t help but tease you just a little, not that you mind.

“That’s it, this what you needed?” he practically coos at you, voice low and saccharine and growing gruffer by the second. “I haven’t been taking proper care of my angel, have I? No, no, that won’t do. Gotta make up for lost time. Poor thing, havin’ no one to fuck you properly when I’m not around. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

You try to answer, you really do, try to tell him you’ve missed him more and that no one makes you feel the way he does, but the words are like lead on your tongue, and your head is starting to feel fuzzy. The steady grind of his hips into yours and the feeling of being completely surrounded by him leaves you breathless, and all you can manage is a high-pitched sob that seems to satisfy him enough, and he keeps the pace.

“Gonna be good and give me one more? Of course, you’re my perfect girl, always so obedient.” Your responding gasp is immediately met with praise. In truth, at the moment, you’d do just about anything he asked, and you could feel the pressure building quicker, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Don’t look away, love. Wanna see those pretty eyes get all teary for me” he murmurs, words slightly slurred, and you distantly realize he’s not as unaffected as you thought. “Look so good like this, just need you to let go. Can you do that? Gonna be my sweet girl and cum for me. Let go for me, love.”

His gentle command, his firm grip, the pressure of him inside you paired with the almost feral glint in his eyes do you in, and before you know it, you’re back is arching, and you just gush for him with a soundless scream, soaking your lower halves. John isn’t far behind, and the relief of finally pumping you full is almost too much. You always get so tight when you cum, as if you don’t wanna let him go, so he indulges you, lowering your legs but not pulling out yet, instead opting to lay on top of you.

For a while, neither of you moves, trying to gain your bearings, filling the room with your soft pants.

Everything feels so serene, as if you two are the only people in the world. You exhale a contented sigh, eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of John’s body weight atop you.

After some time, he pulls out, shushing your whine of protest with a quick kiss before pulling you into his chest. As you burrow yourself further into him, John wraps you up in his arms. You always get so clingy after, a fact you’re endlessly embarrassed by, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s just another testament to how content, how safe you feel with him, and he cherishes the ability to give you the attention you crave.

Later, he’d clean you up, make you another cup of tea, seeing as the first was abandoned in your haste, get your favorite takeout, and set you up for a lazy night in, but for now, he holds you close. Warmth and exhaustion are seeping into your bones, and you peer up at John through your lashes and utter a quiet “thank you.”

“No need to thank me, love. I’ll always be here for you,” he reminds, giving you a featherlight kiss on your forehead before continuing, “Get some sleep”

And as you drift off, you can’t help the upturn of your lips. Your mind was quiet, and you finally got the sleep you craved.

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #captain john price x reader #price x reader #price smut #captain price #captain john price #john price

368 notes · View notes

peachypinkygloss · 10 months

Note

could you write a jimin x reader smut with a slight piss kink? ( he’s made her drink water all day and distracted her everytime she’s needed to go to the toilet + in the middle of sex and she keeps saying she needs to pee + when she cums she pees at the same time because of overstimulation etc: and jimin finds it so hot.) 💓💓

i've never wrote something like this before, but i will write it because why wouldn't i? 😼 + it's feeding my jimin obsession 😔 i kept it short, but hopefully there's everything you wanted 🤍

Embarrassed

↝ pairing: dom!jimin x sub/fem!reader

↝ genre: established relationship, smut

↝ warnings: mean jimin 😮‍💨, humiliation, manipulation (or he's just mean tbh), watersports 🏄‍♂️, she drinks a lot of water so her piss is healthy dw lol, don't know how accurate this is but if it's hot I consider my mission a success (if it's not, well... 🤐), unprotected sex, titty fucking 🤞🏻, clit stimulation, around 2k words.

"I can't-" You refuse the water bottle Jimin's offering you, a scowl on your face. "I've drank too much, I have to pee," you say as you gently push his hand away.

When you rise up from the bed, he looks at you with a dark gaze, eyebrows frowned. You face him, confused as to why it seems to bother him.

All day he's been handing you glasses of water, telling you to drink everything because you haven't drank enough water those past few days according to him. You agreed, even though you weren't that thirsty.

For some reason, you haven't been able to go to the bathroom, Jimin was always distracting you from it. The first time he said you'd be late to your classes, the second he reminded you that you never use public restrooms anyway and should wait til you're home and once you were at your apartment, he forced you to watch a movie, saying you couldn't miss any part of it.

You don't understand why because it was a movie you've seen before and you're pretty sure Jimin was aware of it. After the movie, he brought you into the bedroom, giving you another water bottle to drink.

Your tummy hurts now and it's difficult to not think about anything else than your urge to use the bathroom. Usually, you can hold it in easily, but today you've been drinking an amount of water you don't take normally so it really presses against your bladder.

"No, no, drink this," he sits you back down on the bed, handing you the plastic bottle filled with water.

You sigh and take the bottle, sipping on it a little until you really can't. "It's too much," you wince, giving him back the water bottle. You clench your thighs to hold it in, looking up at Jimin, expecting him to let you go to the bathroom.

He sends you a disappointed look and you're embarrassed to be in this situation. He's still holding the drink and you wonder what he has in mind until he spills all of the content on you.

You gasp loudly and scrunch your eyes shut, surprised he did such a thing to you. You feel the water flowing on your head, dripping down to the front of your body. Your hair is wet as well as your top, completely drenched in water.

You're not moving, arms frozen in mid air. Droplets of water are falling down from some strands of hair as one hundred questions flood your mind.

Jimin passes a hand through your hair, slicking it back on the top of your head. When his hand reaches the back of your skull, he grabs a handful of your hair and tilts your head back. You glance at him through wet eyelashes, mouth agape.

"Always do what I tell you," he grits his teeth and you swallow, nodding immediately. He observes you, letting his gaze fall down on the swell of your breasts, nipples apparent in your now transparent crop top.

He wets his lips, his pink muscle peeking out from between his plump lips, and his eyes shift back up to your face. You're slightly shaking, this unexpected cold shower has you freezing, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

You don't break eye-contact with Jimin despite everything, his intense and dominating aura lingering over your little body. It's humiliating to be like that, wet and cold while having a full bladder.

"Show me your tits," he demands and you don't think about disobeying him, even when he just poured an entire water bottle over your head.

He likes humiliating you, that's why. Likes seeing you embarrassed or in inconvenient situations where you feel uncomfortable, exactly like right now.

You grip the end of your top and pass it over your boobs, revealing them to Jimin. He hums appreciatively, scanning them with his eyes. He registers how your perky nipples point at him and the way your stretch marks stand out on your skin, giving this natural look to your breasts.

You sniff, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You blink up at him, still holding your top over your chest for him, anticipating his next move.

He lets go of you, scalp stinging when his fingers detangle from your hair. You watch him palming himself over his joggers, a big bulge very apparent under the two layers of clothes he's wearing. He grips and strokes his cock over his briefs and your belly twists at the sight, clenching your thighs to relieve the ache between them.

Jimin lowers his sweats down his thighs as well as his boxers, setting his fat cock free, twitching twice until standing up proudly over his stomach. He runs his palm up and down on it, licking his lips as he places himself between your legs, erection hovering over your naked tits.

You straighten your back, guessing what he has in mind. "Be a good girl and spit on it for me, baby," he orders, holding his hard cock in his hand. It looks very stiff and you're excited to feel it glide between your breasts.

You tilt your head downward and let a globe of saliva drip down on his length. He strokes it to spread your spit all over his shaft, tip dark pink and wet. When he considers he's lubed enough, he settles his cock between your tits and you wrap them over him the best you can.

He places a hand on top of your head to steady it and to have a grip on something. You wince at the tight grip he has on your hair, but nothing really compares to the feeling of having a full bladder. Though it's painful, you keep your mouth quiet.

He starts to move his hips at a slow pace and he lets out a sweet moan, loving the feeling of his cock sliding between your boobs. His tip brushes against your neck when he thrusts in, erection peeking out from the plush of your tits.

Heat floods to your core as you don't look away from Jimin, his cheeks flushed and an expression of pleasure drawn on his handsome face.

You only hear the deep breaths he takes, totally focused on the sensation of his hard cock making its way between the comfort of your boobs. He is as focused as you, wetting his dried lips and frowning his soft eyebrows, as if the whole process needs a lot of concentration.

He drives his cock on your chest more avidly, his hold on your hair becoming stronger and tighter. You whine out of pain, but you still keep your hands secured on your breasts, creating the perfect hole for Jimin to fuck. Soft, plushy and tight, that's how he likes it.

"Mmh, fuck," he groans and throws his head back, lowering his gaze so he's able to look at his dick sliding between your breasts. With the remains of the water, your spit and his pre-cum, the glide is smooth and easy.

Even though his skin sticks to yours a little bit due to the water, it's still enjoyable for him. He likes the feeling of it, how the meat of your breast moves in sync with his hip thrusts, how it pushes aside to make room for his cock as he penetrates the tight entrance you've created for him.

"Jimin," you call his name in a low voice, not completely confident on interrupting his pleasure. "I really need to-" You get cut off as he shifts his hand over your mouth, muffling your voice.

"Stop saying such non-sense," he scolds, stopping his movements. You look at him, totally helpless, not capable of convincing him. "Lay down."

He detaches himself from you and you hesitantly back away on the bed, laying down on your back. You quickly clench your thighs, this time to literally not pee yourself. You wiggle your hips to ease your urge, but it doesn't help really well.

"It's really uncomfortable," you try again, following him with your eyes as Jimin takes the towel laid on the chair's back, the one he used last night after his shower.

He comes back to you, joining you in bed with the towel in hand. "Lift your butt," he says with a sign of his hand. You raise your hips and he places the bath towel under you. You wonder why, you're not specially the kind to stain the sheets during sex. Protection isn't really necessary.

Next, he tugs your skirt down your legs with your panties, discarding the clothes away on the floor. He pulls your knees apart and you have to focus to not let yourself go. He takes the time to caress your inner thighs, running his palms over your skin, taking your breath away.

"I know you don't need to go to the bathroom, you can stop lying to me, baby." He lifts his gaze up to yours, looking at you like you're just a liar — a bad liar.

You whimper, shaking your head in exasperation because how could he not believe you. But he's just pretending to, of course.

"I'm not, Jimin, I swear-"

"Shh, no, no," he disapproves, now his turn to shake his head, showing you how much he's disappointed. His hands are terribly close to your core, completely at his mercy, uncovered and legs open for him to see.

You stare at his hands, veins popping out along his strong arms, fingers dancing on your thighs. You swallow, always a little anxious at the thought of him touching your private parts, a gesture so intimate and sexual.

A gasp escapes your mouth when his rough digits find your clit and Jimin looks suspiciously satisfied. "No! Fuck, Jimin," you whine out, immediately closing your legs around his hand. Since your urethra is right under your clitoris, his fingers pressing down on your bud of nerves gives you the urge to pee again.

He roughly takes a hold of your jaw, making you look into his eyes. "Don't say bad words," he tells you severely, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his seriousness. "And open your fucking legs," he orders and you do so while letting out a sad sob past your lips.

He lets go of your face and resumes his previous action, doing slow circular motions on your clit. It feels good, but the problem is that you just don't want to pee on the bed. How humiliating would that be? The more you think about it, the more you suppose it's exactly what Jimin wants.

As he stimulates your clit, he presses down on your belly with his palm, literally making it more difficult for you to hold in your pee. His fingers move swiftly on you and you moan, twisting the bedsheets between your fists.

You arch your back and your eyes water, feeling so embarrassed and out of control. The pace of his fingers fasten and you grasp his forearm with your two hands, wanting to stop him, but really, it does nothing except encourage him to go rougher on you.

"What's happening, baby, hm?" He asks in a fake compassionate voice, pressing more and more on your stomach. "Have you drank too much water?" He smirks, malice dancing in his sweet dark eyes.

You contort your body, squirm around, typically doing everything to not let your orgasm take you over and to not pee yourself at the same occasion. "Stop, stop," you weakly cry, sinking your nails into the flesh of his arm.

Jimin seems to get annoyed because he's now more insistent and eager to make you cum. "It's nothing, just let go, baby, come on," he says in a sweet voice and honestly, you really want to let go, too.

You feel the knot in your stomach tightening until your orgasm finally shoots through you, making you whine and moan, sounding so soft to Jimin's ears.

And then comes the moment where you really can't control it anymore.

You pee yourself and a wet puddle forms under your butt. You look down in total disbelief, Jimin still massaging your clit and observing the scene like there's nothing wrong — on the contrary, he finds it absolutely hot.

He groans, his cock twitching and leaking more pre-cum, so impatient to bury himself inside your wet cunt.

"Shit, baby," he practically mewls, so turned on by the embarrassment you put yourself in — and with a bit of his help, for sure — and by the tears streaming down your face. He stares at you like you just did the hottest thing ever, and you really did, in his opinion.

You sob and hide your face behind your hands when you've stopped peeing, so embarrassed. But Jimin pushes them away and leans down to kiss you so you at least understand he's not disgusted at all.

"I can't believe you let me do whatever you want to you," he admits, pecking your cheeks and neck. "You're so fucking perfect," he praises, a huge grin on his face. His eyes glint lovingly, even though they're still playful. He clearly hasn't finished with you yet.

You blink up at him, eyes round and watery. He lays his forehead on top of yours and you softly moan when his cock pushes at your entrance.

He fucks you roughly, the headboard rocking against the wall, letting everyone know about your heated session of sex. He doesn't miss to suck on your nipples and bite on them, devouring them like a hungry man.

Your hands find their usual spot in his hair, pulling on silky strands of hair to give him back a little bit of the pain he's inflicting you by snapping his hips against yours. The bedroom is filled with sounds of your skins slapping against each other, the noise of his dick entering your wet pussy as well as yours and his deep moans.

You cum around his cock and he ejaculates in you, stuffing you full of his seeds as a reward for being such a good girl for him, despite your little screams of complaint when you peed the bed.

Now you understand why he put a towel under your ass.

Don't ask for a part 2, thank you!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts drabble #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #requests

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willalove75 · 11 months

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Alcina's New Maid Pt. 6 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut, angst.

Notes: Part 6! The angst, SO MUCH ANGST. I think this is the least amount of dialogue I've ever had in a fic so I hope you all like it💕 Do I want to stay up all night and write chapter 7 right now? Yes. Holy shit yes. But I have stupid 'sponserbilities and adulting to do so part 7 will have to wait until next week. Until then, please enjoy this angsty as fuck chapter💕💕

Click here for the rest of the series

It struck you as odd that Alcina said you were to be by her side at all times, yet you barely saw her over the last few days. You were either in your room or with the girls; a couple of times you felt like Zina was tasked with babysitting you while you followed her around the castle, helping her with some of her duties. You haven't even been into your Mistresses chambers or her study since you got the concussion. Every time you did see Alcina, she didn't act like she normally does when she's around you, she seemed colder, more distant. That was apparent when you went to the dining hall the night of the incident and instead of being seated next to Alcina like you usually were, your chair was at the opposite end of the long dining table. Alcina barely looked at you, you thought maybe she just had a rough day and you tried to not think too much into it; but every time you've had a meal with them since, your chair was placed as far away from her as possible.

It was impossible for the thoughts to not flood your mind, wondering if you did something wrong, if maybe she was finally bored with you, if you just weren't living up to her expectations? She hasn't relieved you of your duties and she hasn't brought any other maids into her chambers, at least that you're aware of. The thought of her bringing another maid into her bed made your stomach twist with jealousy, but not rage. It was mostly just sadness, disappointment, heartbreak even. You hoped she wasn't, but truth be told you really had no idea and the thought haunted you a little.

The girls noticed a difference in their mother too, but they didn't dare talk to you about it, and you respected that. That didn't stop you from overhearing them mention that Alcina has been more agitated and easily angered lately. She damn near took a maids head off when the maid tripped in front of her. The maid was fine, traumatized for sure when Alcina whipped out her claws and threatened the poor girl with them, but physically unharmed.

Alcina's week has been anything but relaxing, she's done everything she possibly could to avoid you minus locking you away in your room. She tried her hardest to avoid looking at you during meals, seating you on the opposite end of the table. Being directly across from her made trying not to look at you difficult but she managed to ignore you for the most part. There were definitely a few stolen glances, but every time she caught herself looking at you she pried her eyes away and tried to distract herself with something else.

She noticed the look in your eyes during the last few meals, a look of sadness, confusion, uncertainty. Alcina brushed it off and did her best to keep the guilt from eating away at her. Her vices were her crutch during these trying times, she's been smoking nearly twice as much and drinking at least a bottle of her wine a day, sometimes two. The only vice she hasn't been able to satisfy was the sexual frustration that's been pent up inside of her. At this point she might as well be avoiding you because the minute she talks to you, she might just throw you onto her bed and ravage you, the complete opposite of what she feels like she has to do. She's been horny, but hasn't been able to bring herself to take another maid into her chambers. Instead her pent up frustrations have been released in bursts of unbridled anger.

It's not that Alcina really wants to avoid you, to shut you out, to put every feeling she has towards you into a box and never touch it again; she feels like she has to. Not only to protect you, but more for her own protection. She hasn't let herself get close to anyone since she was human, years before she was infected with the cadou and was mutated. The walls she built only got bigger and stronger once she was turned into what she is today, only letting her daughters in once they came to her. You managed to climb over and break down so many of her walls so effortlessly it terrified her, but the companionship was nice and she enjoyed caring for someone other than the girls, plus, she genuinely began to like you.

As soon as she realized how attached she was becoming, she bolted. Between Stefana and Mother Miranda, especially Mother Miranda, coming after you, wanting to cause you harm, she couldn't bear the thought of it. It was as if someone threatened to rip her heart out of her chest, a feeling she was not only completely not used to, but something that made her feel more vulnerable than she's ever experienced before. Every day since she began avoiding you she's had to convince herself that what she's doing is for the best.

After lunch you asked the girls to take you into the library, which Daniela happily agreed to, the other two followed out of obligation to their mother's orders. Daniela enjoyed the same kind of books as you, romance novels for the most part, some fantasy. She also enjoyed thrillers, but after one night of terrible nightmares that were brought on by reading her "It", you both decided it was best if she read those by herself. You began piling a few books you and Daniela picked out on one of the tables while the girls bickered as usual. Once you were satisfied with your selections you went to find the girls to head back to your room.

"Daniela? Bela? Cass?" You call out for them as you walk around the library. "Are you guys still here?"

After walking around for a minute and unable to hear them arguing, or even the buzzing of flies, you call out for them again; searching between the bookshelves in case they were just playing a game.

In one of the chaise lounges near the window you see Alcina laying across it, her head resting on her hand, invested in the book she's reading. Her eyes shift up to you as you come around the shelf.

"Oh, hi, sorry. I didn't know you were here." You nervously say. "I was looking for the girls."

Her gorgeous gold eyes stare into yours for a few moments, you try and see if you can gauge any kind of reaction in them but they're like stone. They shift back down to her book and she continues to read, as if you already walked away, or as if you were never there to begin with.

You feel a pain in your chest when she acts like you don't exist. It's taking all of the self restraint in your body to not break down and grab her face and ask her what you did wrong, begging for forgiveness for something that might not even exist. Instead you settle for asking if she needs anything, anything to make her speak to you.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Her eyes leave the page and snap up to yours, an intensity in them that hasn't been directed at you in a while. She closes the book in her hand and stands, you crane your neck and follow her eyes up, desperate for something, anything. Even if she just screamed at you, at least she'll have spoken to you. A lump in your throat grows as she turns and walks away without saying a word.

Closing your eyes in defeat, you stand there for a minute, gathering the strength to keep the tears you feel building at bay. You go back to your search for the girls, a swarm eventually showing up in the middle of the library.

"I'm so sorry!" Daniela cries and wraps her arms around you.

"What? What happened?"

"We left you!"

"It's okay," you laugh "I'm fine, I had a feeling one of you were gonna show up eventually."

Daniela looks at you, she has a small smile on her face but guilt in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay kiddo, I'm not upset or mad, we're good, no worries." The guilt in her eyes fade and her smile grows. "Want to go read one of these?" You ask, picking up the stack.

"YES!" She squeals.

In a flash there's a swarm of flies surrounding you and lifting you off of the ground.

"Oh my god!" You yell as you laugh.

Daniela flies the both of you to your room at lightening speed, you're surprised and grateful you managed to hold onto the stack of books the whole way there. She sets you down onto your feet and emerges next to you from the swarm.

She picks out one of the books and you read to her until dinner. When the dinner bell rings Daniela whines, not wanting you to put the book down. Reluctantly, she gets up and swarms out and you follow her to the dining room.

The girls appear in their seats in the dining room as you walk in, you see your chair at the opposite end of the table, the same place its been for the last week, and you take your seat.

The maids bring out your meals, you quietly thank the maid who puts your meal down in front of you and you stare at it for a moment. What's the point of having every meal with them every day if she's just going to ignore you? There's a part of you that wants to get up and go back into your room, but you fight against the urge.

The clinking of silverware against the plates pulls you out of your thoughts and you quietly eat, although your hunger is suddenly gone.

"How was your day girls?" Alcina says. You look up and see her looking at her daughters, not even acknowledging your existence.

"Our hunt this morning was a lot of fun!" Bela says.

"Yeah, I killed so many lycans, I even got a deer!"

"Hey! I helped!" Daniela says.

"Yeah, barely."

They begin to argue over the subject and Alcina clears her throat and gives them both a look and they immediately drop it.

"Y/n started reading this really good book to me!" Daniela says with excitement in her voice.

You notice Alcina's face drop a little when she hears your name, you feel your heart drop as you watch. She gently smiles at Daniela, hiding her reaction.

"That's wonderful draga."

Your heart feels like it's in your stomach, you've barely touched your food and Bela notices.

"Do you not like it y/n?" She asks.

"Oh, no" you say, snapping out of your trance. "No it's delicious, I'm just not very hungry."

Your eyes meet Alcinas for a second and she looks away, crushing you even more.

After dinner you head to your room and read for a little while. Your stomach begins to growl and you get up and open your door, hoping to find a maid or one of the girls. Luckily you see a maid walking through the hall with cleaning supplies in her hand.

"Hey, can you do me a favor? Can you get one of the girls for me?" It's well known that you're not allowed to go anywhere by yourself now so the maid nods her head and walks off.

A few minutes later a swarm appears in your room.

"You rang?" You hear Bela say as she emerges from the swarm.

"Yeah, sorry, want to come down to the kitchen with me? I'm starting to get hungry."

"What is with you lately? You seem, weird. You and mom seem weird."

"I'm fine, just an off week I guess." You shrug.

"Okay," she says, unconvinced. "Lets go."

The two of you go into the kitchen and you whip up a quick sandwich and eat it as you both head back to your room. Once you get up the stairs Bela turns to you.

"Do I need to walk the extra 50 feet with you or can you manage not getting killed?" She teases.

"I'll be fine, thanks Bela."

She heads off in the opposite direction as you head towards your room.

As you walk past Alcina's door it opens and you see one of the new maids walk out. Her face is flush, her hair is messy, her legs are shaking and she looks mortified when she sees you. Your heart sinks into the bottom of your stomach, you know what caused the maids disheveled look, you know what just took place in Alcina's chambers. Looking up you see Alcina, who's surprised to see you as she wasn't expecting you to be outside of her door; you think you see shame in her eyes but your vision starts to become blurry as tears filled your eyes. You run into your room and shut the door without saying a word to either of them.

Hot tears flow into your pillow as you curl up in bed and sob. You're heartbroken and mad, mad at Alcina for providing such a false sense of security, mad at yourself for not listening and for getting attached. Zina was right, about everything. She'll make you feel special, but she really doesn't care about you, you're replaceable, disposable to her, just a plaything. A toy to use for her own enjoyment until she gets bored and wants something new to play with.

Unlike Stefana, you're not mad at the maid, you know it's not her fault, you don't even feel the urge to lash out at her. You're more upset at Alcina, not just for making you feel special and ripping it all away from you, but for not even giving you the curtesy of telling you. No warning, nothing. One day she's protecting you, from two different people and nursing you back to health, and the very next day its like you never existed.

Heartbroken, you cry into your pillow until you tire yourself out and finally fall asleep.

With some rare free time, Alcina decides to go to the library and find a new book to read. She picks up a book that peaked her interest and begins to read the first few pages. Immediately drawn in, she abandons her plans to read in her chambers and sits down on the closest thing to her, a chaise lounge in the corner by the window. Noises fill the library, but her attention is glued to the book so she pays them no mind. Her attention wasn't drawn away from her book until she sees something moving in front of her over the edge of her book, she looks up and sees you.

Surprised, she masks her emotions as she looks into your eyes. The knot in her stomach grows, she hears you speak but doesn't respond. Hoping you'll just leave, she turns her attention back to her book, although she can't focus at all with you standing in front of her.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Her eyes snap up into yours when she hears your shaking voice, she anticipates seeing fear in your eyes, she's a little taken back when she sees desperation, a deep sadness instead. An internal battle in her mind wages on, part of her just wants to wrap you in her arms and hold you, the other part just wants to pretend you don't exist. Realizing she's staring for too long she closes her book and stands up, there's a small second where she almost gives in to her desire, but she stays steadfast with her plan; she says nothing and walks away.

The look in your eyes haunts her as she makes her way back to her chambers. She tosses the book on her bed and walks up to her vanity and grabs the edge, lowering her head she pushes everything she's feeling back into its box. With her frustration and tension at an all time high she decides to try and provide some relief for herself.

She removes her hat and gloves and makes herself comfortable in her bed. With her eyes closed she pulls up her dress and slides her hand between her legs. After a few minutes of finding absolutely no relief, she gets up and goes into her wardrobe and grabs her favorite toy. This one always seems to do the trick and she's desperately hoping it doesn't fail her. She works the toy in and out of her and her anger only grows; she might as well not be touching herself because that would give her just about the same amount of pleasure that she's getting right now.

More frustrated than ever, she chucks the toy against the wall and lays back down, staring at the ceiling. In her head she goes over a list of maids she can bring into her chambers, every time she tries to picture one in bed with her, they always turn into you. Her frustration reaches its peak and she hears the dinner bell ring. A low growl rumbles in her chest and she gets up, places her hat back on her head, slides her gloves back on and makes her way down to the dining room.

She manages to avoid looking at you for the majority of the meal, focusing her attention on her plate and her girls. It wasn't until Daniela mentioned your name when she felt a sinking feeling in her heart. In an instant she pushes the feeling away, hoping you didn't witness her moment of weakness. Bela mentions that you barely touched your food and she quickly glances at your plate. It hasn't been touched except for one or two bites, you've just been pushing the rest around mindlessly.

Once dinner ends Alcina quickly makes her way back to her chambers. As she's walking through the halls she spots one of her newer maids. A cute, sweet looking girl, she can't be more than 20. Alcina doesn't know her name, and truth be told she doesn't really care to. All she knows is that the girl is quiet and does a decent job on the tasks she's assigned.

Usually when she talks to a maid about coming into her chambers she's flirtatious, mysterious, she likes to toy with the girls for a little bit, but tonight, Alcina doesn't have the patience.

Alcina walks up to the girl, who immediately looks terrified. Bending down to come off as less intimidating, Alcina speaks softly to the girl, but her demeanor doesn't change. If anything, she's more afraid now that the Lady is nearly eye-level with her. If she wasn't so pent up with frustrations Alcina would make a mental note to try and come off as less intimidating, but she's too focused on finding any kind of relief to even think about anything else.

With the girl finally in her chambers, Alcina lays with her on the bed and softly kisses her. It annoys her that the girl doesn't soften up at all, she's stiff as a board with fear, even after Alcina repeatedly tried to ease her fears, it was no use, so she continues anyway. It's not that the maiden was unwilling, Alcina told her she can tell her to stop at any time and she would, whether or not the maid believed her, or was too terrified to speak up was another story. Although if the maids drenched panties were any indication, Alcina had a feeling she was fine with it, probably just terrified that she was going to kill her. The girls soft cries as she came almost made Alcina finish without even being touched. She's never been this desperate before.

Alcina laid next to the maiden on her bed and pulled up her dress and removed her panties and ordered the girl between her legs. Nervous at first, the girl seem scattered, but after some praising and reassuring moans she found her rhythm and within minutes Alcina was cumming all over her face and hand. At the height of her orgasm she thought of you, she almost called out your name but bit down hard on her lip to stop it from slipping out. As she was recovering she looked down at the maiden between her legs and for a fleeting second, was disappointed it wasn't you. It was getting harder and harder to get you out of her head and she wasn't sure if she would be able to take much more of it. She felt as if trying to ignore you so much just made you more irresistible to her, it frustrated her to no end.

The maiden cleaned herself up and Alcina led her to the door for her to leave. Alcina opened the door and froze, there you were, standing right in front of her, walking back to your room. The look in your eyes when you saw the maiden, the way you immediately knew what had just happened almost broke Alcina. She's never felt shame like this before in her life and the guilt practically swallowed her whole. Alcina wasn't even able to hide the look of shame on her face when you looked up at her, the feeling only got worse when she saw the tears building up in your eyes.

She would have been grateful that you ran off if it didn't cause her so much physical pain in her chest seeing you that way. Knowing that she was the cause of your pain, she couldn't even think about it. The maiden stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. Alcina bent down and put her lips to her ear.

"Thank you sweetling." She said, petting her head.

The maiden took that as her cue to leave which Alcina was grateful for because she didn't have the patience or the constitution to keep herself together for much longer.

With the maiden on her way Alcina closed the door and stood there for a moment with her hand against it. She could hear your heartbeat in the room next door, she could hear you quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow. Out of all of the horrific screams and sounds she's heard in her life, hearing you crying, because of what she did to you, was once of the worst sounds she's ever heard. Alcina somberly got herself ready for bed and laid down, pulling the duvet over her. She listened to you cry until your heartbeat finally settled, letting her know that you finally fell asleep.

Alcina can't remember the last time she cried, but for the first time in years, tears escaped from her gold eyes and plummeted onto her pillow.

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