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#her spot looks like an eye in the middle of her forehead and it's very neat
wordsarelife · 4 hours
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
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pairing: theo nott x fem!reader
summary: mistakes can happen but this one might cost them a record deal, so they definitely needs some help from you
warnings: cursing, unsafe driving, someone gets hurt, let me know if i missed any!
notes: mattheo and enzo are brothers in this story, i just decided hehe. (they both keep their respective name, they’re step brothers, since childhood so they are practically real brothers anyway lol)
let me know if you’ve enjoyed this part :))
"you're so funny, enz" april was laying belly down on your bed, while she was busy giggling into her phone. enzo had asked her if she still had the same number she had in middle school and promptly followed her confirmation with the question if she would be free to call after school.
april had agreed before she remembered that she was going to your place. but, because you were a good friend, you had told her that it was no problem.
now she was laying on your bed talking to enzo, who, you were pretty sure, was at theo's.
you now regreted telling her that it wouldn't be a problem, considering they had been talking for the last hour or so.
you sighed, deeply, before you decided that there was only one way to get your friend back. you took the blog from your desk and scribbled the words down, before you hung it in your window.
as if he had waited for you to write something, theo stood in front of the window and read your message.
do something you had written, featuring at least 7 exclamation marks.
theo looked at you as if you had gone crazy. why should i do anything to help you?
because i bet enzo is just as annoying, isn't he?
theo only spotted a face that made an answer from him unnecessary. he just nodded and walked away.
"oh, already?" you could hear april ask behind you "no, it's fine. i get it, i'll be waiting" and with that she ended the call.
"i'll be waiting?" you asked, with a quirked brow.
"that was embarrassing wasn't it? i should've just said bye like a normal person"
"well, you're not a normal person" you smiled "and i don't think that you could do anything to make him leave you alone at this point"
"you really think so?"
"of course i do, april" you sat down beside her "why did he have to leave so suddenly?" you tried to not sound suspicious, but you were really curious what theo had done to get enzo off his very important call. luckily, april hadn't even noticed what you had been doing.
"band practice" she shrugged "theo is a strict boss"
"i bet" you mumbled while your eyes were still fixated on the piece of paper in his window. why should i do anything to help you? catapulting you right back to the night a year ago. you shuddered at the thought of it and tried to ban it from your head as fast as possible. theo was a constant reminder of your mistakes and maybe it wasn't him you hated but the realization of fault that hit you anytime your eyes fell on him.
✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆。𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦
the garage was filled with thick air that had been warmed all day as the sun beamed down tremendously. theo rubbed the sweat off his forehead as he sat his bag down inside.
enzo walked to the couch to open his guitar case. he halted in his motion and the rest of his friends perked up at his lack of movement.
"no, enzo" blaise muttered "not again, come on"
"it did not do it on purpose" enzo turned around to face his friends and theo looked around his body to confirm what he basically already knew.
"where's your head at?" draco's tone matched the annoyance that was bubbling in theo's chest.
"is that a serious question?" matt laughed "it's deep under april's skirt"
"matt" enzo sighed as he rubbed his neck in embarrassment.
"april hart?" blaise asked "the one you've had a crush on since she moved here in first great?" enzo nodded and blaise laughed "that's what i call consistancy, mate"
enzo would've probably laughed if it weren't for the bitter look the bands' leader was still spotting. "are you angry?"
theo sighed. "it's the third time you forgot it, enz"
"i know, i'm sorry, theo" enzo brushed a hand through his hair, before he turned in draco's direction “can i lend your car and get it, please? i won't take long"
"are you kidding me?" draco asked humorless "my mother is gonna kill me if something happens to that car. i'll drive"
"i'll come with ya" mattheo stood up from the couch.
"why don't we just all go?" theo asked sarcastically.
"yeah, why not?" blaise smiled, not catching that theo was just making a joke.
"no, i meant-" the group was already walking out to the car and theo just accepted his fate. "why not" he mumbled before he got in the back seat.
enzo was sitting in the middle of him and blaise, while mattheo had been able to plant his arse on the passenger seat next to draco, who was already setting the car back.
"it's so silent" mattheo mumbled "why don't we listen to some good music" he grabbed a cd from his pocket and just a second after, the loud drums and guitar of blood//water, the first song on cursed legacy's debut album floated through the car.
the boys broke into cheering. "you made a cd?" draco asked smiling, while mattheo nodded proudly.
"old school" enzo grinned, but clapped mattheo's shoulder nonetheless.
"hey" draco said harshly "you stay back there" he pushed enzo back into his seat. "i told you guys to hold him" he looked into the mirror and found theo's eyes, who looked not entirely happy, but did as he was told.
the seatbelt of the middle seat in draco's mums car had been broken for a while. she had originally forbidden them from riding in the car with five people, but draco tended to ignore her rule, even if he normally was quite fussy about anything happening to the car, banning drinks and food completely. but theo's car was still getting fixed by his uncle, so it was their only option.
"while we're on the topic of the band" blaise said "did you call that guy back? the one from the record label?" he asked theo.
theo smiled "i did, yeah. thats what i originally wanted to talk to you all about, but enzo was busy talking to the demon's bestie"
"demon is a rather harsh word" draco muttered.
"aren't you guys a bit too old to upkeep that childish feud?" mattheo asked. "you used to tell her everything and now you're not even saying a word about the record label thing"
"i really thought you guys would go back to normal after everything with leo" enzo added and all heads turned to him.
"i told you not to mention him" theo said angrily and enzo slumped down in his seat.
"it's been a year, mate" draco’s eyes found theo's in the mirror.
"it doesn't matter" theo shook his head, before he abruptly changed the topic. "he wants to see us, as the preact of some band in six weeks"
"the record guy? really?" mattheo perked up "thats like super soon"
"he seemed really excited" theo shrugged "this could be our chance guys. we get that deal and in less than a year we're off to america or tokyo and probably recording our second album, while already writing the third"
"as long as our little shakespeare keeps working that won't be a problem" blaise ruffled theo's hair, his hands letting go of enzo, while theo was busy slapping his friends hands away, hence why he also let go of the younger boy in the middle.
"hey! what did i tell you?" draco full on turned around in his seat.
the next three seconds happened all at once. mattheo was the first who screamed. it had taken draco less than a second of not looking to effectively drive off the street and in the direction of the nearest tree. draco turned around alarmed, swerving the car to the side, luckily not driving frontal into the tree. he stopped the car at the same time, what would've been fine, if blaise and theo had held on to enzo again, or if his seatbelt had simply been working.
he went flying trough the car, mattheo's arm darting to the side, to stop enzo flying through the car's windshield. sadly, his force wasn't enough and enzo still hit the dashboard quite hard, but at least he stayed inside the car.
"ow" enzo cried, holding his arm.
"shit, shit, shit" draco muttered under his breath. "is anyone hurt? are you all fine?" theo could hear his voice break.
"blaise and i are fine" he said quickly, to calm his friend "but enzo.." all eyes turned to enzo who was laying in the middle of the car, between mattheo and draco, who was staring down at him wide-eyed.
mattheo excused himself to call an ambulance.
"this is all my fault" draco brushed a few tears away from his cheeks "i should've just given him the car, or gotten the guitar on my own, i should've never-" he was interrupted by theo.
"it isn't your fault, draco" he assured "blaise and i let go of enzo in the first place, it was our job to keep him safe and we got distracted"
"i shouldn't have screamed at you like that" draco put his head on the steering wheel, trying to hide the stress on his face.
"theo is right, mate" blaise added "it's on us"
it seemed like draco wasn't even hearing him. "i will probably lose my license"
"you won't" enzo muttered through clenched teeth "we'll say there was a deer"
"i'm so sorry, enz" draco excused, it seemed like he only remembered now that enzo was still laying in the middle, holding his arm. "does it hurt badly? i actually don't care about the license, they can take it, as long as you're fine"
"i think my arm is broken" enzo held up his right arm, which was bloody and looked like it wasn't supposed to be formed the way it was right now.
"shit, enz" draco rubbed a hand through his face, before he quickly opened the door and threw up on the floor.
"the ambulence will be here in ten minutes" mattheo said, as he poked his head through the door. "what is he doing?" he wondered once his eyes fell on draco, who was still hanging half out of the car.
"puking" enzo, blaise and theo chorused.
"gross" mattheo shuddered, before he opened the backdoor of the car. "you guys should come outside, so the medical team can assist enzo better. we shouldn't move him"
"yeah" theo nodded, while he pushed blaise out of the car.
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“why did i have to come with you again?” you were walking from the parking spot to the entry of the hospital.
“because someone had to drive the car” april pointed to the phone in her hand, which she had used to try and call enzo the entire way here. her hadn’t picked up so she insisted on visiting him, but not without a few different sorts of chocolate (she wasn’t sure which he liked) and flowers.
“yeah i get that, totally” you rolled your eyes, so that she wouldn’t see “but do i really have to come inside?”
“i need moral support”
“you’re not the one who broke his arm”
“enzo might be happy to see more than one friendly face”
“it’s not like he’s laying on his death bed, april” you nudged her arm “i’m sure he comes home today, we could’ve just gone to his house tomorrow”
“i want to see him”
“okay, fine” you groaned, but followed her inside, where she was already leaning half over the receptionists desk.
“how can i help you?” the lady was rather unimpressed by april’s eagerness.
“we’re here to see enzo, ehh lorenzo berkshire” she quickly corrected.
the woman raised her eyebrows, before she started tapping words into her computer.
“pixie?” a voice called and your head turned to the side. you tried many times not to react to the name, but you sometimes couldn’t help it. theo had been consistent for the last ten years so it was in your nature.
“mattheo” you greeted.
the dark haired boy was holding two cups of what looked like coffee. “they belong to me” he told the lady at the reception. “i’m lorenzo’s brother, i came with the ambulance, you remember?” he waited for some kind of confirmation, but she was already busy with something else, easily going back to ignoring you.
mattheo made a gesture for you to follow him down the hall. “pretty unfortunate, heh?” he grinned awkwardly.
“it’s horrible” april declared “i mean how is he supposed to play? he told me something about a record deal that you guys might get”
“yeah” mattheo looked to the ground, before he changed the topic. “he will be so happy to see you” he smiled at april and april mirrored his expression.
mattheo halted in front of a door. “could one of you..?” he trailed off, as he looked down at the cups in his hands.
“oh of course” april said quickly.
“i should maybe stay outside” you held the flowers and the chocolate in april’s direction, who raised her eyebrows.
“are you kidding?” mattheo laughed unimpressed “of course you’re coming inside. enzo will be ecstatic to see you both”
“her? sure, but me?” you asked unsurely “also, theo is probably in there, so i don’t-“
“he will behave himself” mattheo promised “come on, pixie”
you send him a look. mattheo knew about the nickname as long as it existed and he would only call you that sometimes. theo used it to make fun of you, but when mattheo said it, he meant it in a friendly way. you all had grown up together, naturally as you lived so close and in a small town. for mattheo, pixie was not in insult, but the last bit of proof that you had been friends once. after theo and you had fallen out, you had automatically fallen out with all the boys.
sometimes it hurt you to remember. remember how you and mattheo had spent hours listening to sherlock holmes and climbing trees. or how you had helped draco to read as he was having problems, days when you were washing gum out of blaise’s hair and taught enzo to tie his shoelaces. and theo, theo had always been where you were, he was never far. and everything had slipped away in a single night.
but it was too late to make amends. mattheo knew that as good as you. maybe you all could stop fighting, but go back to normal? probably never.
“hey” enzo raised both his arms when he noticed april and you walk in behind mattheo. “ow” he muttered.
blaise and draco were sitting on chairs on either side of enzo’s bed. theo was standing a bit away from the rest of his friends, leaning against the window.
“what is she doing here?” theo stepped forward when his eyes fell on you.
“hey, don’t talk to my guest that way” enzo pushed theo back, so he was leaning against the window again.
“april needed some help carrying all this” you opened your arms, displaying the different sorts of chocolate and flowers.
“how are you feeling?” april asked, slowly touching enzo’s cheek. “does it still hurt?”
you could practically see the flip switch in enzo’s head, as he realized how much she cared.
“a bit” he said dramatically and his voice dropped a whole octave. “but i think i’ll live”
you exchanged a look with mattheo, who raised his eyebrows at his little brothers dramatics.
“how long do you have to wear the cast?” you asked, while you put the chocolate down on the night stand. blaise immediately took one of them.
“hey that’s for me!” enzo protested.
“we need emotional leverage” blaise rolled his eyes, before he unpacked the chocolate and bit a whole piece off. he then held it in draco’s direction, who took it and started nibbling on it like a mouse.
enzo sighed before he looked back at you “between four and twelve weeks”
“shit” april deadpanned “what about the record deal?”
“okay, are you guys really getting one or are all of you in on a bit i don’t know about?” you wondered. there had been a few too many mentions of a possible record deal.
“no” mattheo shook his head smiling “there’s this guy from the label and he wanted to see us at the preact for a band who plays in the concert hall outside the town in six weeks”
“we can forget about that now” draco whined.
“that’s shit” you looked down “i’m sorry, that’s really awful”
“don’t act like you’re not making internal jumps of joy” theo spoke for the first time since you had entered. “you hated the band from the minute we..” he paused and cleared his throat, before he added “continued”
“you really think i’m that big of an asshole?”
“come on, theo” blaise added “don’t be like this now”
“it must be the first point on that little to do list of yours, huh? what do you want to hear? you were right? we’ll never get famous”
“shut up” you shook your head at him.
“stop fucking lying about the way you feel about my band”
“mate” draco tried to push theo back, who was walking closer to you.
april and enzo were exchanging worried glances as they noticed the tears building up in your eyes.
“theo” mattheo stepped next to his friend, laying a hand on his chest, to hopefully calm him down.
“why did you even come here?”
“i’m only here because of april and enzo” you said between clenched teeth “now stop acting like i’m here to laugh about your misery”
“the band could’ve made it big”
“i know” you simply said.
the others were following the discussion between you attentively, turning their heads, like a tennis match, from side to side, whenever one of you spoke.
“my band could’ve made it big”
you looked up at theo with teary eyes, before you nodded, once, finally. then you turned to look at april. “i’ll walk home” you turned to enzo “get well soon, enzo”
“thank you” enzo replied breathless.
you send one last look in theo’s direction, who gulped as he saw the tears flowing over your cheeks, before you left the room.
“what?” theo asked as he turned around and noticed the angry looks of his friends.
“was that really necessary?” mattheo sighed. “she came here because of enzo, knowing well that you would be here. she wanted to wait outside and i convinced and even told her that you would behave this time”
“you really are mentally seven aren’t you?” blaise asked and theo felt bad that he made your visit to enzo all about himself.
“you know how i feel about seeing her”
“how could we not?” draco muttered “you make it clear over and over again”
“it doesn’t matter anyway, the record deal is through and we can just stop being a band now” theo sank to his knees.
april and enzo exchanged a look, before enzo cleared his throat. “technically you just need a stand in for me”
“what?” theo looked up.
“it’s not over, theo” enzo said “you just need to find someone who can play the parts, or at least learn them in six weeks and after my arm is alright i can come back”
“he’s not wrong” blaise nodded “we just need to bag that deal and the rest is not important right now”
“okay, who?” theo deadpanned “you’re incredible on the guitar, who could we possibly find to be just as good?”
“you know that there is someone who was better” enzo looked down in his lap. the rest of the group grew silent too.
“what has that to do with anything?” theo asked defensively.
april turned her head to look at the dark haired boy. “he taught her” she said. “everything”
“what?” theo asked, not believing what he was hearing right now. “what are you saying?”
“we’re saying that you should ask y/n” draco put it simply.
“absolutely not” theo shook his head “i’m sure we can find someone else”
“you just said that there was no one good enough to stand in for me” enzo noted “she might be our best option”
“even if he taught her” theo added “that was over a year ago, who says that she even still plays anymore?”
“she does” april muttered “she’s good, really good”
theo sighed.
“just ask her, mate” mattheo, who had mostly stayed silent, clapped a hand on his best friends shoulder. “we need this record deal”
“i know” theo sighed.
“she’s a slow walker” april pointed to the door and theo raised his eyebrows.
“go!” his friends all chorused when he did not move. he left the room.
“beg her on your knees if you have to!” mattheo called behind theo, before the door fell closed.
“do you really think she’ll help us?”
“i honestly don’t know” april shrugged “but i’m sure theo has to find a way to go even lower than just his knees if he really wants to beg her”
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screampied · 3 months
Note
i have an idea :]
ok so i always see people asking for gentle/needy/desperate choso. and i love it, but…
what about unassumingly ruthless choso? reader doesn’t know what she’s getting into? reader is cocky and gets humbled FAST? idk i just…
👉👈
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso who puts his cute bratty gf in her place
warnings. fem! reader, attempted brat taming, doggystyle, big dick choso, unprotected.
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you’ve always been one to push his buttons, mainly because he always made it so easy.
choso was as intimidating as a kitten, whenever you’d tease him he’d always keep composure or restrain himself.
briefly smiling nervously, kissing your wrist and telling you to be a good girl and wait until you each return home.
but one day, he kind of just snaps…
he takes you home from shopping nearly all day with you, and you were enthusiastically ecstatic. you wondered what he’d do this time, but your thoughts were no match for what he had initially planned. to put it brief, choso had you laid on the bed on all fours. he’s drilling ruthlessly into your pussy and you’re just…speechless. choso’s so handsy, every few seconds he’d spank your ass to hear you whine out his name—in such two slutty syllables.
“c-choso..” you’d moan, the left side of your cheek attached practically to the silk bed sheets as if it was velcro.
“shh, no talkin, princess,” he grunts, and you could hear the slight whine picking up his voice before he stops himself. “i-i have to be more stern with you it seems. can’t always be so nice, gotta humble you just a little bit, fuck.”
if it was a word to perfectly describe you right now, at this particular moment…it would for sure be…dumbfounded.
you couldn’t see yourself but you’d bet money you looked stupid.
choso’s dick was so lengthy, appetizing and hitting every spot with just the tiniest amount of pressures his thrusts had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek with your toes curling tightly.
“what’s the matter? no more attitude?” he huffs, tilting his head to move some remaining strands that were starting to occlude his vision.
“i-if you’re gonna be rough, at least go h—”
“…oh, baby, you’re jus’ asking for it by this point.” he murmurs, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.
your eyes rolls at feeling the very tips the curve of choso’s cock kiss against your folds. so deep, his thrusts were sloppy. purely responsible for the squelched that continuously sang throughout the room.
choso grabs onto both of your waist, and you moan once he’s just dragging your hips back and forth against him, making sure you feel every thick inch of his.
“do me a favor ‘n arch your back more,” immensely, you do—your body responds to choso with such a quickness it was simply humiliating. “good girl….now,” and you barely recognize choso’s voice. usually it’s so sweet and tender, now it was rough and a bit husky, a rasp hidden underneath each sentence he spoke.
needless to say, you found this version of choso to be quite hot.
“wait,” he pauses, pausing the mood with his own cute stammer in his voice, back to normal. “not goin' to rough, am i? i want you to be comfortable and-”
“baby, ‘m fine. keep fucking me please.” you pleaded, feeling his hips stutter as he was in the middle of talking. even trying to keep up a act, he still wanted to make sure you were okay—choso simpers to himself, caressing your ass before spanking it yet another time.
“okay okay,” he hums. his hips pick up again and you’re basically being pounded into the bed. the grip he had on your hips wasn’t too rough but just the perfect amount.
choso’s breathing starts to pick up, and he enjoys the view of you more than he thought he would. his head goes back, along with his let down hair before he pivots his hips a certain way. your pussy clamped down against him and you hear his jaw clench in pleasure. “…shit.”
your legs quavered beneath him, and he then used a hand to bring both of your wrists behind your back. “j-just like that choso, please, please.”
“baby, you’re not supposed to be praising me,” he pouts, and you giggle before moaning again — a sudden moment occurs where you thickly swallow, only to continue your sweet whimpers. “this was s-supposed to be a punishment.”
“so punish me then.” you mewled, your cunt easily hugs him like a vice, the noise it makes, a wet pop and you’re just soaked. choso’s ears grows hot from the feeling and he knows you can feel it too.
he sighs, shoving you further into the bed. “you’re something else.” and his voice grows low and pitched again—yet choso does the unexpected. he leans right into you, and you instantaneously feel the heel of his foot press against the very back of your head.
he wore socks, the soft padded wool brushes against your neck, and he’s roughly driving into your pussy now to where you can’t even saying anything.
all that came out of your dumb mouth was a squeal, this angle…
“let me have you,” he grunts, balls deep, his base was thick and repeatedly thwacked against your entrance. you were dizzy…drunk, but not that kind of drunk. the good kind where all you could think about was how good you were getting stuffed by your boyfriend’s hefty cock. “yeah, just lie down and let me—fuck.”
you’re panting, and it felt so good.
choso was always used to being gentle and tender with you, although if you wanted him to be a little rougher, he was more than happy to oblige.
“i-i’m gonna cum, choso… gonna make me cum.”
“don’t think you deserve it, he utters, and your lips part, jaw dropping, plethora of sweetened moans only escaping as a subtle response. “you’ve been teasing me all day. even started to stroke me in the dressing room.”
“s-sorry.” you moaned.
choso remains with his foot near the back of your head before pursing his eyebrows together. “you’re not sorry are you, baby? be honest.”
“n—no,” you whined, the thickness of his shaft twitching inside of you felt so heavenly. you could have sworn you felt a vein that ran down his length pulse inside of your tight cunt. “you’re right, you’re right, ‘m not s-sorry.”
he chuckles. “you could have just lied, you know?”
choso’s angle and thrusts against you were so pivotal inside you, so astonishingly deep that not even moments later you end up cumming hard. leaving a ring around his base. your breathing was irregular and heavy, eyes half-lidded and just convulsing underneath him.
“messy girl,” he whispers, pulling out, not even caring that he didn’t finish, all that matters was that you did. choso turns you over before planting a kiss on your lips—you pull him in for another, and another, before you make him trample onto you. “did you learn your lesson?”
“no,” you moaned, sitting up before lightly shoving him down on his back, straddling his lap now. “i want more.”
choso smirks, sliding a hand down your waist, fully disregarding his flustered face at seeing you attempt to take control. “of course you do, brat.”
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d4rkpluto · 9 months
Text
𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶
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before i get into this post, not everything is 100% for you! this will be about the features i found prominent in people along with their moon signs, on the other hand, there will examples of celebrities/models to help with my post. if you wonder why you dont see similar features with the celebrities who share the same moon sign with you, look at your parents x.
this will be based on tropical astrology :)
chart reading spots open! [DM ME FOR INFORMATION]
paid intuitive questions opened! [DM ME FOR INFORMATION]
𝔞𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶
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ARIES/1H MOON BEAUTY
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ANGELINA JOLIE, RIHANNA AND KENDALL JENNER, IN ORDER.
♇ aries moon beauty [specifically for the women] are likely to have prominent eyebrows, their eyebrows tend to be sharp and arched.
♇ they normally have cupid bow lips and their lower lips are usually heavier than their upper lip, upturned eyes and dimples, [as aries' planetary ruler governs over dents in skin, specifically the face].
♇ they're likely going to have wide chins, [aries/mars can give broadness], or their chins can be very meaty, they could have cleft chins or very boxy ones. also the shape of their nose to their eyebrow arch resembles the shape of ram horns.
♇ the tip of their nose tends to point down, and they have sharp jaws and a diamond shaped face. it could be because they have nice and full cheek bones and their lower face is narrower than the upper scale of their face.
♇ their eyes isnt as intense as a scorpio moon's but their eyes are more "daring". they have a slender neck, the ratio to their neck and face, [chiefly the jaw] is very balanced. i've noticed they also look like their mothers a lot too, my second sister is an aries moon and she looks a lot like our mother.
TAURUS/2H MOON BEAUTY
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ZENDAYA, GABRIETTE BECHTEL AND VINETRIA, IN ORDER.
♇ taurus moon beauty [specifically for the women] tend to have sultry eyes, or eyes that are very inviting. they have full lips or the upper lip is heavier than the bottom, they can come off as very pink as well.
♇ they have light eyes or eyes that tend to glisten a lot, and they tend to have very brownish/warm under-tones.
♇ taurus moons are likely going to have sharp/square jaws, that can sometimes make their face come off as very square, [not diamond like, like an aries moon]. they also usually have full eyebrows, [gabriette, the one in the middle plucks hers], but their eyebrows are more soft then sharp, but there's like an arch to it.
♇ their eyes are either very slender or roundish, and their face structure could either be narrow or a very roundish square, [and full], but both face structures will give the individual a pointy chin.
♇ the tip of their nose are typically very round, and they could have spacey foreheads, or foreheads that are very squared, but their face structure helps them give off a very slender appearance.
GEMINI/3H MOON BEAUTY
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HEIDI KLUM, DITA VON TEESE AND BROOKE SHIELDS, IN ORDER.
♇ gemini moon beauty includes very strong and sharp faces, they're likely going to have square jaws, [square faces], and a very youthful look. [specifically for the women]. noted that other gemini moon women i've seen have very wavy/curly hair.
♇ they also tend to have a cool/true winter colour palette, their skin and hair tend to be very contrasting, for example the really pale skin and dark hair. [very dark features or there could be something strikingly beautiful about them].
♇ they have wide lips and a prominent cupids bow, their upper lip are likely going to be thinner than their bottom lip. most of the time, their eyebrows are low down to their foreheads.
♇ you could say they have prominent cheekbones, but i view them to be apple cheekbones, they tend to have short foreheads [but other people say their foreheads are large in height? i think it is more of the width]. and noses that point down. their eyes are upturned or very fox-like. but as it is a mercury sign, there are some gemini moons with down-turned eyes.
CANCER/4H MOON BEAUTY
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VANESSA PARADIS, MARIAH CAREY AND MIRANDA KERR, IN ORDER.
♇ cancer moon beauty involves with them having small faces, their faces being heart-shaped, and their upper head being rounder than their lower face which takes on a sharper shape.
♇ their chins are usually very meaty and prominent, and they usually do have a cleft chin. the width of their face is usually wide/long, and their features are normally just in the middle, very pinched-like face structure.
♇ these female cancer moons tend to have pouty lips, their lips are usually triangle shaped and they have round eyes.
♇ the soft curve of their eyebrow tail gives them a very soft look, and these cancer moon women usually have glossy skin and a youthful appearance.
LEO/5H MOON BEAUTY
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JODIE WOODS, MEGAN FOX AND MEGAN THEE STALLION, IN ORDER.
♇ leo moons have the stereotypical feline look, their eyes are sultry, shadowed or you could say it is flirtatious, their eye shapes are very "foxy" which makes the feline look more prominent.
♇ their jaws are angular and they have full lips, they are a very pink-toned or you could say are a very pink shade of colour and they have high cheekbones which can either come off as prominent or very soft.
♇ leo moon beauty includes them having arched eyebrows, elongated nose tip and nice side profiles. leo moon women [and the men], they have warm undertones and their hair is very glowy/wavy and is usually styled a lot. [a lot of them have flat noses as well].
♇ majority of the times their faces are either very long or very short, but there is always some square-ness to it, which also gives them a regal look, like they're above you, their beauty is intimidating.
VIRGO/6H MOON BEAUTY
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SHARON TATE, NICKI MINAJ AND BELLA HADID, IN ORDER.
♇ virgo moon beauty consists of them having sultry eyes like a leo moon, but the difference is that their eyes are slightly bigger than leo moons, if they don't have sultry eyes, virgo moon women are likely going to have doe eyes.
♇ they tend to have short chins, and their upper lips can be thinner than their lower lip, their faces tend to be angular and diamond shaped. paired with sharp eyebrows that makes it look like they're frowning a lot, people might deem them to have a resting bitch face.
♇ they have a really polished look, [and are likely to get cosmetic surgery done so they could reach their idea of beauty]. their noses are prominent and can sometimes be considered as beaky and downturned. they could have a prominent or soft cupid bow and their eyes glisten a lot.
♇ their feline beauty is not that similar to leo's, as virgo's moon feline allure is more fox-like due to their very sharp features and high cheekbones.
LIBRA/7H MOON BEAUTY
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MADISON BEER, PHOEBE TONKIN AND ADRIANA LIMA, IN ORDER.
♇ libra moons have very stunning beauty that can get them very envied, they have this baby doll/barbie or just doll look to them, they tend to have pouty lips and thin noses, if the noses aren't thin they're usually upturned.
♇ they have meaty chins, or you could say they can be very square or pointy, there's usually much shape to them. comparing them to libra ascendants, libra moons are likely going to have a very square or strong head shape while libra ascendants usually have an oval and softer head shape.
♇ they have the typical venusian eyebrow arch, clair nakti has spoken about it in one of her videos in venusian dominant beauty. and these libra moons have puffy cheeks that add onto their baby doll like beauty. they usually have a light/cold undertone while the sign that shares their planet has a more warmer undertone, and taurus moons usually have thicker eyebrows than libra moons!
♇ their eyes tend to be glossy, and their eyes are usually very high up on their faces and upturned, they are likely going to have full eyelashes or long ones, and their eyes usually makes them come across as flirtatious.
SCORPIO/8H MOON BEAUTY
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KALI UCHIS, JENNIE KIM AND LILY ROSE, IN ORDER.
♇ scorpio mon beauty is the epitome of dark femme beauty, most of the times scorpio moon beauty includes them looking like birds, specifically owls and sometimes crows or birds that are under the "dark category".
♇ they normally have small heads, which can make their features be in the middle and not as spread out, but it strengthens their owl like appearance, [pr even doll], and if their heads aren't small, it's usually long, not big, but long.
♇ could have catter-pillar or bushy eyebrows; they have very piercing eyes and sometimes it's narrow/slender. though, i've noticed when a scorpio moon/placement has blue eyes, it is very piercing or just very blue.
♇ their upper lip can be really forward, which gives them a pouty look, and their noses can be thin and slightly downturned. they tend to have apple cheeks, it shows the most when they smile.
♇ very intimidating look, or they sometimes appear like they seem "better than you". scorpio moons can also have a heart head shape, usually because of their cheekbones and small head.
SAGITTARIUS/9H MOON BEAUTY
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NAOMI CAMPBELL, ROSIE HUNTINGTON-WHITELEY AND KEKE PALMER, IN ORDER.
♇ sagittarius moon beauty includes them having oblong/rectangle head shapes, overall, they usually have long head shapes. but they tend to have really cute noses, the round top of their nose is really defined. [their head shape reminds me of squidwards house no offence].
♇ they usually have really inviting playful eyes even if they seem like an intimidating person, sagittarius moons specifically the women have very broad/squared foreheads and full lips. their cheekbones are full and their eyebrows are full too and well-kept.
♇ their eyes can be round and upturned or downturned, mutable moons usually have this impact on their features. due to their jaw being very wide it comes a bit forward and makes their chins appear very pointed.
♇ some of them tend to have dimples and have very glamorous hair like leo moons but fire moons usually do have really best hairs. sagittarius moons have a really royal and wise appearance, they seem like they always know something more than you.
CAPRICORN/10H MOON BEAUTY
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FANNY NEGUSHA, SYDNEY SWEENEY AND AISHWARYA RAI, IN ORDER.
♇ capricorn moon beauty includes them having very pointy/prominent chins like their sister sign, cancer. their eyes are usually a light shade of a colour as well, and they usually do look like goats but like a prettier version, [drop the guns and leave out the long paragraphs].
♇ their eyebrows are very recognisable, very sharp and arched, capricorn placements in general tend to have box heads, but what gives them the goat appearance is that their chin just goes forward.
♇ they have downturned eyes that are at most of the time big, [sometimes their eyes look like sanpaku eyes, even if they have it or not, the whites under their eyes are very prominent] and their ears tend to stick out.
♇ capricorn moon beauty involves them having a very slender look, but they dont appear as fragile like women with capricorn in their ascendant. they usually have very slender/bony nose bridges and sharp jaws, and their head shapes are oval-like but a longer version of it.
AQUARIUS/11H MOON BEAUTY
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CANDICE SWANEPOEL, JESSICA ALBA AND MARILYN MONROE, IN ORDER.
♇ you guys do look like the moon face emoji and it's okay, don't break a leg because i said that, mostly, your upper face is circular and your lower face is sharper giving the somewhat shape of an alien head. [but yassified versions].
♇ most of their nose bridges can be thin or wide, and downturned, aquarius moon beauty involves them having round puppy eyes, very straight and arched eyebrows. their forehead can be very prominent and portruding along with their brow-bone.
♇ their beauty includes them having a heavier lower lip and defined lash lines, they tend to have a very cute and full of life appearance, and their eyes look like they are sparkling/twinkling. the point of their chins can either come across as very rounded or squared.
♇ just like capricorn moons, aquarius moons can appear to have sanpaku eyes as well, even if they do come across as full of life, their eyes tend to show what they're feeling the most/very expressive.
PISCES/12H MOON BEAUTY
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♇ i have noticed a lot of pisces moon beauty, [especially the women], have glossy eyes, most of the time they look like they're about to cry, and they have thick/long eyelashes. i have noticed pisces moons have very adorable smiles.
♇ they have really full eyebrows, full and wavy hair, their eyes are usually round and they can be light. the shape of their lips is normally full and heart-shaped, and the middle of their faces goes really in giving them very portruding cheekbones.
♇ unless their other placements are as strong, or overpowers their pisces energy, many of them have short foreheads but it can appear as if they have big foreheads, but, that is because the width of their forehead is very long.
♇ pisces moon women are very beautiful and they always look like they're wandering, they always look like they're on another realm and tend to look like they're lost or shocked. on the other hand, they have really delicate features, they give off the stereotypical fairy/ballerina/princess look.
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𝔞𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶
chart readings are open!
intuitive readings are open!
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Brunch Date || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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Summary: Paparazzi capture a cute little brunch date that you and Tom take your daughter Elsie, on.
Warnings: absolutely none cause this is just pure fluff 🥰
Wc: 762
Dad!Tom Blyth x reader au masterlist
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divider by @pommecita
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Hand-in-hand, you, Tom and Elsie walk through the streets of Brooklyn. You were on the look out for a place to eat brunch since this morning it took awhile for Elsie to wake up and get ready. You didn’t bother bringing a pram since there were lots of nearby cafes to your home.
It had been a whole month since you and Tom revealed that you were parents and a whole month since the promo tour of tbosas finished. Not many pictures of Elsie were out still, not that you purposely intended that. It just coincidentally happened.
But it felt great being out in the open comfortably with your family. Elsie had her arms up, both hands gripping Tom’s and your hands as you both lightly swing her. Childish giggles escape her mouth as you and Tom smile.
“Ooh, what about that place?” Tom points over to a little cafe on the corner of the street. It wasn’t very busy inside and you had already since great comments about it while you were looking at the cafes around this morning on your phone.
You sat in a three seater table that overlooked the street of Brooklyn, Elsie in the middle. “Would you like water?” Tom asks as he gets the jug of water. “Yes please,” You smile, tucking a loose strand of Elsie’s hair behind her ear as she nods. Her hair up in two pigtails, just how she liked them.
Tom fills her glass before carefully holding it for Elsie as she drinks it. You look through the menu, your eyes scanning the contents of it as you discuss with Tom the options. Wanting more attention on her, Elsie crawls onto her dad’s lap as Tom lets her, her little arms wrapping around his neck, their cheeks side by side as you laugh.
You quickly snap a photo of the two. “Do you want pancakes baby?” You ask, looking at Elsie, “Yes please,” She voices out as Tom cracks a smile. “Good manners darling,” He praises her, kissing her cheek before he passes Elsie to you, getting up to order.
Tom comes back a few minutes later. You decide to sit in Elsie’s spot beside Tom as she sits on your lap, her eyes on the road before her and the people walking pass. “Do you want to go to somewhere after this?” Tom asks you as he takes a sip of his coffee.
You spoon feed the froth of the babycino into Elsie’s mouth as you hum. “Actually yes, I saw this really cute pinafore for Elsie when I was walking by the shops a couple days ago,” At the mention of her name, Elsie turns her head to look at her parents.
You and Tom giggle as he lightly pinches her chubby cheek as Elsie smiles. “You’re so cute darling,” You kiss her forehead just as the food arrives. You thank the waitress and you move to sit back at your seat, Elsie back on hers.
Tom takes Elsie’s plate as she waits patiently, he was cutting it up into small bits so that she could eat it without hassle. “There you go sweetheart,” Tom smiles at her daughter as she digs in.
The three of you ate your dinner with Elsie taking a little bit longer. You watched your daughter as she chews her food slowly, her curious blue eyes wandering around the place. You had spotted a few paparazzi’s taking photographs a few times but you didn’t mind since they were on the other side of the street, far away.
A few people would stare as they walked by but they were all super respectful and didn't come up to ask for photos while you were eating. After Elsie finished, the three of you left the cafe and made your way to downtown brooklyn. Elsie was in Tom's arms most of the walk there since she felt clingy.
You stopped at the shop you mentioned to Tom and did a little shopping for Elsie. Hand in hand, you and your daughter walked around the shop, picking out things that she liked.
Tom was trailing behind, his eyes looking around the cute little shop that had the cutest pieces of clothing and thought how adorable they would look on her daughter.
All the clothes that you and Elsie picked out ended up in Tom's arms as he happily held them all. You helped Elsie try on all the clothes and did a little fashion show for Tom. It was honestly so adorable and Tom found it absolutely entertaining.
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aemondsbabe · 2 months
Text
Come What May
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summary: aemond gets his first true taste of battle, you comfort him in the aftermath.
pairing: aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is described as having long black hair to suit baratheon standards but no other physical descriptors are used, spoilers, mentions of canon character injury but no gore, angst, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, slight possessive aemond, soft aemond, vulnerable aemond, we love men who cry
word count: 5.8k
a/n: i've had this idea in my head for the longest time and i think it turned out much more delicious than i was expecting! hope you all enjoy!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource
divider creds to @targaryen-dynasty
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“My love, surely Ser Criston can hold his own,” you plead, wringing your hands nervously as your husband reads from the small scroll that was delivered to your chambers only moments ago, “It’s already been days, surely if they were going to retaliate, they would’ve done so by now.”
“We made the mistake of underestimating my sweet sister and her traitorous lot once before,” Aemond sighs, lilac eye scanning over the rolled parchment once more before before holding a corner of it to one of the many dripping wax candles housed on the small desk in your rooms, “It’s an error we can never afford to make again, not after what happened to little –” The muscles in his jaw clench as he cuts himself off with another harsh sigh, tossing the burning paper into a small metal bowl before turning to you. 
“It’s an official summons,” he continues, voice softer now as he swiftly crosses the room until he stands before you. “I can’t simply ignore the Hand, nor my brother,” he murmurs, pulling a sigh from your lips as his hands wrap around your waist. You let your eyes slip closed for a moment when he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head before resting his forehead against yours, your own hands gripping tightly to the front of his black tunic. 
“I understand,” you say softly, swallowing thickly as you try to ignore the tightness at the back of your throat, a million unsettling what if’s playing in your mind's eye, “I just want you to come b-back to me.” 
Upon hearing the break in your voice, Aemond pulls away with a tight smile. “Shh, little wife,” he whispers, gently wiping at the corner of your eyes as tears begin to gather, “I will return to you, I swear it.”
A slight flush covers the apples of your cheeks as you peer up at him, still so cautious of being weepy and emotional so soon into your marriage despite the prince’s many assurances that he was more than happy to have you exactly how you are. After a moment, you manage to blink the tears from your eyes and steady your breath, giving your husband a reassuring nod just as the doors open and a flood of servants and squires rush in to assist Aemond with his armor. 
Leaving them be, you step out onto the balcony of your chambers, grateful for the cooling breeze rolling in from Blackwater Bay. Resting your hands atop the rough stone wall, you gaze out over the calm waters, watching as the sun rises and paints them in shades of orange and pink. Each time you spot a stray seagull, your heart clenches tightly in your chest – worried for a moment that it’s Meleys and her rider, come to finish what they started at Aegon’s coronation. 
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You startle as rough hands wrap around your middle from behind, a small gasp leaving you as your eyes pop open, seeing the sun a bit higher in the sky now before you look over your shoulder. 
“Dare I ask where your pretty head was?”
“Praying,” you answer your husband with a smile, turning in his grasp, “Asking the Seven to protect you, to bring you back to me in one piece.” 
Chuckling, Aemond tenderly cups your jaw with one hand, the smooth leather of his glove soft against your skin. “I assure you they will,” he says, dipping his head and kissing you with a small sigh, the metal plate armor on his torso cool against your skin, even through the fabric of your nightgown. “I do not fear this battle, sweetling, not with Vhagar at my side – she has more years of experience fighting in wars than either of us could dare imagine, many more than that old cunt or her beast. I trust her to know what’s right.”
Nodding, you follow him inside, a small smile on your lips while you listen to him talk about his dragon, finding endless amusement in the way he always speaks of her with such reverence. The two of you stand together in the low, flickering light of the many candles in your chambers, the early morning light from the drawn curtains casts faint shadows across the room as you look over your husband, unused to seeing him in true armor. 
“I suppose you’re ready, then?” You ask, glancing over the fine black plates, each custom made to hug his lithe form perfectly. 
“Almost,” he says, the corners of his lips quirk into a small smile in the same instance that familiar, mirthful glimmer takes residence in his eye. 
“Oh?” You question, already familiar with where this is going; the smile on your lips only grows as he takes your hand and leads you over to your vanity table by the wardrobes. 
“Braid my hair,” he says, always one to keep his requests of you simple, “As you do before I go riding… please.”
It’s the small please that always gets you, a courtesy Aemond so rarely bestows upon others. With a small nod, you watch as he sits on the small silk-covered chair, his lilac eye watching you from the mirror as you lean forward to grab the ornate metal hairbrush Alicent had gifted you after your wedding to her son. 
Meeting his eye in the mirror once more, you give him a small smile before focusing on his hair. You run the brush through the pale, silky strands with a practiced ease; before you, the prince hadn’t dared to let anyone do his hair, and was quick to snap at any of the servants if they tried. But with you, he was quite different – much more vulnerable behind closed doors than many would expect. 
Glancing up in the mirror as you brush through his long hair, the smile returns to your lips when you see his eye closed, a small sigh leaving his lips as he allows himself to relax for a moment more. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm in the quiet of the early morning, your hands steady as you run the fine brush through section after section of hair, humming a song to yourself as you go. 
Finally, you set the brush back down and carefully section off a lock of hair at one of his temples, already knowing how he usually preferred it be styled. Just as you have it separated into three sections, however, one of his hands closes around yours and you lift your eyes up to his in the mirror.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, no,” he replies softly, his one eye glancing away from you, almost nervously, “I simply have a favor to ask of you, my lady. Something I’ve been unable to get off my mind, not since the threat of war became real.”
“Ask it, then.”
With a small sigh, Aemond turns in the chair, moving to face you as he takes your hands once more, calloused thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of them. “I know it is a strange request but… I would like a lock of your hair, sweet one, to braid into my own.”
Your brows knit together at his words, having not expected a request such as that, and your head tilts to the side questioningly, “I see no problem with doing it, but may I ask why?”
“I am not a superstitious man, as you well know,” he starts, smiling when you nod along with his words, “However, I have come to think of you as a good luck charm, of sorts.”
“A good luck charm?” You echo, a little blush coloring your cheeks as a shy smile tugs at your lips, your heart racing at the thought of being something so precious.
Aemond squeezes your hands and nods, “These past few moons have been difficult, between my brother adjusting to the crown and everyone else shuffling about, and the horrors that my sweet sister endures, little Jaehaerys, the numerous threats from Dragonstone, everything, I…” He pauses, brows furrowing as he stares at the stone floor, jaw clenched. 
Your heart clenches in your chest as you raise a hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the scarred skin just below his sapphire eye, the sight of it mystical to you even after so many months spent with him. Studying his face, you can’t help but notice the darkness under his eyes, a product of the many restless nights he’s faced, though a small sad smile claws at your lips as he leans into your touch – eye closing briefly as he savors it, practically purring like a housecat. 
“Your presence has been the only thing that brings me comfort,” he murmurs finally, lilac eye peering up at you as he makes no move to lean away from your touch, “I find my spirits lift when I’m around you – your touch, your sweet scent, they… they calm my mind, steady my heart.”
“Oh, Aemond,” you breathe, heart racing in your chest at his words. 
“I would like a piece of you with me always,” he continues, lilac eye brimming with sincerity, “To calm me when you’re away.”
You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, “Of course, my love, of course we can do that.” You sniffle, trying your hardest to keep your emotions at bay as the backs of your eyes sting with love-filled tears. 
Again, Aemond watches as you quickly walk over to the small side table where you keep your needlework supplies. Shuffling through the small woven basket they’re stored in, you locate the small scissors used to cut thread and make your way back over to the vanity. 
Bending at the waist a little, you look into the mirror, briefly meeting your husband’s eye again as you select a small lock of hair toward the back of your head, one that will be easily hidden among the rest as it grows back. With practiced motions, you quickly knot the fine strand into a thin braid before getting the scissors as close to your scalp as you dare. You carefully cut away at it until it comes away, the bundle of strands clutched tightly between two of your fingers. 
Returning the scissors to the basket, you grab a small bundle of thread, close to the same dark color of your hair, and return to the prince, quickly tying off both ends of the braid before holding it up with a small smile. 
“Good?”
“Good.”
Quickly taking your place by Aemond, you once again separate a lock of his hair into thirds, adding your own strand to the mix before easily winding them together in a long, silvery braid, the black of your own hair standing out strikingly against your husband’s. Finally, you gather the rest of his hair into its usual half up and half down style, thick braid skirting down one side of his head before joining the rest as you secure it with a thin leather cord. 
“There,” you breathe, stepping back just enough for Aemond to stand, “All done.” 
“Perfect as usual, sweetling,” the prince smiles, tight lipped, “Thank you.” He murmurs, again, a courtesy reserved for you.
“Of course,” you all but whisper, both you and Aemond pausing as you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to say goodbye first. 
You nearly jump out of your skin as a knock interrupts the moment, both of your heads swiveling to the doors of your chambers as they creak open. 
Ser Willis Fell, a member of Aegon’s Kingsguard steps into the room, bowing politely as he addresses you both. “Prince, Princess,” he says curtly, one hand balanced on the pommel of the sword that hangs from his waist, “I apologize for the intrusion, I’ve been instructed to inform the prince that he is to depart for Rook’s Rest immediately – King Aegon is already waiting at the Dragonpit.”
Aemond nods with a heavy sigh, turning back to you. Before he can get a word in, you practically throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as the doors click closed once more. “Please come back to me,” you breathe against the crook of his neck, tightness once again taking residence at the back of your throat as his arms wind around you, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back. 
“I will, my sweet girl, I swear it,” he promises lowly, long arms squeezing him to you as tight as he dares, not wanting to bruise your skin against his armor, “I swear upon the Seven I’ll come back, I will not leave you, I refuse.” 
Nodding, your breath catches in your throat as you slip away from him, just enough to angle your face up to his. His eye glances over your face quickly before he presses his lips against yours, both of you desperate to pour as much emotion into the kiss as you can as your lips move together for a moment. 
Finally, he pulls away with a pained sigh, holding your face in his hands. “Avy jorrāelan,” he whispers, the very first Valyrian phrase he taught you. (I love you.)
“Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you reply, the practiced phrase coming easily to you after all these months. (I love you too, my husband.)
With one final kiss, Aemond departs, the walk toward your chamber doors seeming like the longest of his life. 
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The rest of the day passes by painfully slowly, though you do all you can to entertain yourself. Everything from taking a much longer time than usual to eat meals, forcing yourself to stomach what little you can with your belly in nervous knots, to spending hours walking through the Red Keep’s gardens. 
Which is how you find yourself now, in front of the fire in one of the many ornate sitting rooms, wiling away the time by half-heartedly working on a needlepoint. Alicent sits next to you on the small sofa, restlessly reading over a small stack of letters as Helaena paces, wringing her hands and mumbling to herself under her breath, a common sight following the death of her son. 
With a tired sigh, you put down your embroidery hoop, fingers too sore and overworked to continue. “I just want him to come back,” you mutter, staring vacantly into the fire, “Or to get some word, some update. Just to know.”
“He’ll come back, sweetling,” Alicent murmurs softly, setting the letters aside as she places a comforting hand on your knee, “They both will.” She finishes, glancing over at her daughter with a longing stare, wishing there was anything she could do to ease her pain. 
The both of you sit for a while longer, the navy sky outside growing steadily darker, before Alicent sighs and looks at you with a sad half-smile. “You may as well go to bed, dear,” she says softly, “Staying up worrying won’t do any good.”
Knowing she’s right, you quickly bid her goodnight before taking your leave.
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You lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long while, thoughts filled with nothing but your husband, before sleep finally takes you. Even then, it’s not restful, dreams filled with visions of blood and fire, of the sounds of screaming and swords clanging together. 
It isn’t until the wee hours of the night, almost sunrise, that a sound wakes you – clanging again, only soft this time, like metal on stone. 
You blink your eyes open, a little groan leaving your lips as you rub at them with your fists before –
“Aemond!” You breathe, scrambling under the blankets to get to him, nearly toppling off the bed in your haste. 
He makes a small “oof” noise as you throw yourself against his chest, catching you in his arms and holding you tightly. “Careful, love,” he laughs softly, letting his eye slip closed as he kisses the top of your head, breathing in the familiar lavender scent of your hair. 
“You came back,” you breathe, winding your arms around his waist as you kneel at the edge of the bed, knees digging into the plush mattress. Upon hugging the prince, you come to realize that the small clanging noise that woke you had to have been him quickly untying his plate armor and stripping off his chainmail, leaving him in a soft tunic and pants – the aforementioned garments lying haphazardly on the floor, their sheen reflected somewhat in the dim glow of the fire. 
“Of course I did,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over your back, “I swore I would, didn’t I?”
The two of you fall easily into a comfortable silence, arms wrapped securely around one another as the only noise in the room is the sound of soft breathing and the crackling from the hearth. You can’t help but notice that Aemond smells smokey, much like he does after riding on Vhagar but stronger now, no doubt having been around dragon fire for hours. 
After a moment, you peer up at him, eyes finally adjusted to the low light. When you do, you can’t help the small, pitying little gasp that leaves your lips and one hand rises to gently cup his cheek. You’re no stranger to seeing him after a long day training in the yard with Ser Criston, but this is wholly different. 
In the pale light, you could make out small dark splotches on his face and neck and upon skirting your thumb over one on his cheek, you come to realize it’s remnants of ash, staining not only his skin but the bits and pieces of his tunic and pants that weren’t covered by armor as well. His hair was still fixed how you’d left it, though messier now – windswept and slightly dusty as well, many of the white strands stained a faint grey, the flash of black from your own braid still cutting through the paleness of his like a knife. 
But what really stopped you was his eye, his lilac one; you frown when you notice the uneasy look in it, full of a bitter sadness. “My sweet husband,” you say softly, brows furrowing when you notice a few scant tear stains on his cheek, their paths carved through the spots of ash, “What happened? What did they do to you?” You question, heart racing at the thought of the horrors he must’ve seen – his first real taste of battle.
The prince gazes at you for a long second, his lips parting as one of his hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. All at once though, the sadness in his eye changes to a familiar fire, one that makes your heart race for an altogether different reason and desire curls in your belly, coming to rest like a cat in a sunbeam. 
“Aemond?” You question, blinking up at him. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, hot and insistent and you’re all too eager to comply, easily melting against him. A whimper leaves your lips, instantly swallowed by his mouth as it moves against yours. 
The kiss is more teeth and tongues than anything else, your husband’s slipping against yours with a practiced ease. His hand threads more harshly through your hair, making you moan against his lips as your hands cling tightly to the dark fabric of his tunic, a growl reverberating under them as it emanates from his chest. 
“Need you,” he breathes raggedly as his lips part from yours, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck. You shudder against him as his teeth nip gently at your skin before his lips suckle at it gently, painting bruises on your throat that match the many he surely has. 
“But –” you start, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind despite the pleasure threatening to blot them out. 
You’re stopped mid sentence as Aemond suddenly cups one of your breasts, palming eagerly at the tender flesh in a way he knows makes your head spin and don’t miss the ghost of a victorious smirk on his lips at the way you cut yourself off with a small, shuddered moan, squirming in his hold as his thumb skirts over your nipple through the thin fabric of your nightgown. 
“Please, sweet one, I need this,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your neck. His hand at the nape of your neck slips down to wrap around the small of your back, arching you against him, “I need you, I need to feel… t-to feel something good again.”
Once more, you’re nodding before he can even finish his request, chest heaving as you fight to keep your eyes open, wanting to keep him in your sights as if he may disappear again if you don’t. “Then take me,” you sigh, a broken moan leaving your lips as he kisses down your neck and across your chest. The hair at the back of your neck raises on end as he mouths over the fat of your breast, dampening the front of your nightgown.
Both of your hands claw desperately at the back of his head, tangling into his long hair messily just as his lips close around your nipple. “Gods!” You cry as he suckles at it needily, still pawing at the other one, savoring the feel of it in his hand. 
Just as your thighs begin squeezing together, your center aching, Aemond pulls away, smirking when you whine. Impatient as ever, he quickly pulls at your nightgown, tugging it up and over your head, and tosses it onto the floor with his armor – delicate silk pooling over hard metal – before quickly undoing his tunic, eye glimmering proudly at how you always stare at him with such reverence. 
“Fuck,” he growls, hands descending passionately against you once more, one again kneading at your breast as the other slides against your hip, long fingers digging into the fat of your ass, “You get more beautiful every time I see you.” He whispers against your lips, strands of silver hair falling loose from his braid and fanning around his face. 
His lips press against yours once more, teeth teasingly nipping at your lower lip as your nails dig into his shoulders and chest, anxious for more even as you blush at his words. Always one to please, the prince wastes no time in trailing kisses back over your neck, pausing to nip and suck once again at his marks from earlier, needing to see remnants of himself on your delicate skin.
Again, he traces a bath down across your chest before licking over your nipple, needing to give attention to the breast he’d missed earlier. His tongue laves over it greedily and you moan at the feel of his length, hard and hot against your lower belly even through the cotton of his trousers. 
Just as his teeth nip softly at your taut bud, the hand on your hip shifts toward your center, making your breath catch in your throat. Suckling at your nipple once more, Aemond gently runs his fingers through your already dripping folds, pulling a loud, whiny whimper from you as his lips curl into a smirk, a pleased hum radiating against your breast. 
“Husband, please,” you whine, finding your voice once more as he rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at your cries. 
“Seems I’m not the only one that needs this, hm?” He teases, eye glancing over your face as his fingers lightly rub against your aching bud, your breaths mingling together. 
“A-Always need you,” you say breathily, your hips moving of their own accord as he plays with you, your own hands clutching at him like an anchor, “I’ll always, fuck! I’ll always need you, Aemond.” 
He feels his heart skip in his chest at that and once again grows restless, the need to have you, to feel nothing but you burns through him like fire. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he thinks how the sincerity in your tone reminds him of your wedding vows, whispered to him in the Sept as if the two of you were the only people in the universe – how he wishes that were true. 
With a grunt, he presses his lips harshly against yours once more before leaning forward, pressing himself over you until you have no choice but to buckle and fall to your back against the bed. Unable to think of anything else, he wastes no time in kneeling at the side of the bed, knees against one of the many fur rugs dotted over the floors of your chamber. 
A squeal leaves your lips as the prince clutches at your ankles and pulls you toward him, until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. A breathy whimper leaves you as you peer down at him, resting back on your elbows as your teeth bite into your lower lip. 
Your hips buck as Aemond kisses up your thighs, long hair tickling your soft skin, and you whine as he licks at the curve where your thigh and center meet. A breath leaves him as he uses his thumbs to part your folds, licking his lips at how your arousal already coats them, wetness catching in the dim light of the fire. 
“The Stranger himself wouldn’t be able to tear me from this,” your husband murmurs lowly, nearly growling as he glances between your face and your dripping heat like a starving man looking over a feast. 
With a groan, he finally dives in, moaning nearly as loud as you do as he greedily mouths at your cunt, tongue licking harshly over you from bottom to top. Every muscle in your body seems to seize as lightning bolts of pleasure crackle up and down your spine. 
Your head flops back against the bed as Aemond licks and suckles at your folds, burying his face against your center as he licks into you, nose pressed tightly against your pearl. Your fingers tangle into his hair once more, back arching as he groans into your heat, all but fucking you on his tongue as obscene wet sounds echo about the room. 
“Oh Gods, f-fuck,” you whine, hips rutting against his face as the heat in your belly threatens to boil over already. Your eyes roll back as he chuckles against you and licks up to your bud, suckling at it eagerly, making you clench around nothing.
“Gods, you taste good, so sweet,” the prince mumbles against you, lapping at your pearl as he runs two thick fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. “I would kill Death himself for this, my love,” he rasps, leaning up to watch the expressions on your face as he presses his fingers into you, impatiently crooking them up in just the way you like, fucking and rubbing them against the sensitive spot within you with practicied ferocity. 
“Please, please, please,” you pant, belly knotting tighter and tighter at his words, the gruffness of his voice, head so clouded you aren’t even entirely sure what you’re begging for. 
Aemond smirks and licks and sucks at your bud for a moment more, savoring every whine and whimper he pulls from you. “Let go, my love,” he murmurs, grinning at the way your heat clenches tightly around his fingers, “Peak, let me feel it.”
You wail as the cord within you breaks, shuddering and babbling the prince’s name again and again as pleasure washes over you, your muscles tensing and relaxing in a dizzying rhythm as he works you through it. You nearly peak again as he groans against you, lips wrapped around your pearl as he suckles, gradually slowing his fingers within you.
Finally, you come down, though the fire within you still burns brightly, still aches for him. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he rises from the floor, lilac eye looking over your disheveled form proudly as white strands of hair cling to his face, still sticky with your arousal. 
His chest heaves as he quickly undoes the ties of his trousers and tugs them off his long, lean legs. He wipes at his lips with the back of his hand as he leans back over you and you whine when you feel the heat of his length pressing against you, trapped between your two bodies, the tip already red and leaking against your belly. 
“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs softly, leaning forward to kiss you as he savors the little gasp that leaves your lips as he reaches down with one hand, positioning his cock at your sensitive entrance, “My perfect, sweet girl.” 
You nod your head, hands cupping his face as he pushes into you. Your mouth falls open in a loud gasp and you tremble in his hold as he presses forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely with a pleased groan. 
“Oh, my love,” you finally pant, savoring the way his length feels within you, pressing against every part of you as he fills you completely, “You feel so good, husband, always so good.” 
He growls at that, the breathiness of your tone making his eye flutter shut as he begins rutting against you, grinding his hips against your own. “You were made for me,” he muses, groaning when you begin kissing over the pale column of his throat, “Made to be mine.”
“For you,” you agree between kisses and licks, heart fluttering at the way his thrusts stutter each time your teeth graze over his skin, “Only for you, my sweet prince.”
Aemond groans above you and settles into a practiced rhythm, thick cock spearing into you again and again as your legs wrap around his hips, holding you to him as if he would ever dream of pulling away. One of his hands rests at the nape of your neck again, holding you against his throat as the other grabs at your waist, marveling at the way your breasts move against his chest, bouncing lightly with each thrust. 
The thought of them full of milk, your belly swollen with his seed, flashes across his mind and he growls low in his chest, cock twitching within you. 
As you squirm beneath him, your husband can tell you’re close, as if the steady pulse of your core around his length wasn’t warning enough. “I would go to war for this cunt,” he groans, locking eyes with you as your foreheads press together once more, “I would burn whole villages to the ground just to have you like this, sweetling.” 
His words cascade over you like lava, making your brows furrow together as you gaze up at him, mouth agape. You all but forget to breathe for a moment before a loud, whining moan tears itself from your lips, chest heaving as you fight for air. 
“A-Aemond, Aemond, Gods,” you babble, legs tightening around his waist as your nails scratch down his back, making him grunt above you. After only a few more thrusts, you break once more, writhing beneath him. 
Distantly, you hear the prince groan and grunt above you as your cunt squeezes around him, determined to hold off his own pleasure long enough to watch you peak once more. 
Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Aemond surrenders to the fire within him and moans, voice breaking, as he lets it consume him. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his cock kick inside you and you watch him, mesmerized, as warmth fills you, his seed adding to the sticky mess between your thighs. 
He collapses against you, hips still rutting against your own in broken, twitching movements as his own high fades. The two of you lay like that for a moment, panting as you catch your breath, until you realize your husband’s shoulders are shaking beneath your hold, his breath coming in unsteady bursts against your neck from where his head rests against your shoulder. 
“My love?” You question, cupping his cheek and bringing his face up just enough to see him. Your heart nearly breaks at the sight of tears pooled in his eye, a few already running down his cheek, “What is it? What’s wrong?” You question, quickly glancing over him, searching for some injury, some source of pain. 
Aemond merely shakes his head and sniffles, blinking to dispel his tears as his cheeks flush – he hates the thought of you seeing him so weak. “I’m… I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out finally, holding you against his body tightly despite his embarrassment. 
Immediately, you shake your head, pressing a hand against his shoulder until he rolls over, pulling you with him. A soft gasp leaves your lips at the feel of his softening length slipping from your drenched folds as he comes to rest on his back, you at his side, one hand across his chest.
“Shhh, husband,” you murmur, cupping his cheek once more as you lean up on an elbow, “You needn’t apologize to me.” He nods, somewhat half-heartedly, at your words and sighs deeply, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly, trying to chase away the tightness at the back of his throat. 
You stay silent for a moment, giving him time to calm down, and let your eyes sweep over his form. Aside from the blotches of ash on his pale skin, and some bruises here and there, he looks nearly untouched. A small smile tugs at your lips despite the situation when you see your lock of hair still wound into his, pale braid practically falling apart by now, most of it pulled free of the leather tie holding it together. 
“What’s happened?” You finally ask once his breathing evens out some, your thumb rubbing soothingly over his cheekbone. 
“Aegon,” he chokes out, jaw clenching once more as tears run down his cheek yet again. 
Your heart clenches as a shot of adrenaline all but knocks the wind from your lungs, “He’s not… h-he didn’t –” You start to question, stopping yourself once Aemond shakes his head.
“No, no,” he confirms, voice ragged and soft as his chest heaves with a sniffle, “Almost, but no.”
“Almost?”
“He… He’s hurt,” Aemond starts, barely a whisper as his eye finally meets yours, “Badly. I don’t… I don’t know what comes next, o-or what to do, what’ll be expected of me, of you –” He mutters, breath picking up as panic rises within him, regretting each time he’d looked at his brother with envy – saw the black crown atop his head, glimmering with red rubies, and thought bitterly that it would suit him better. 
“Shhh,” you breathe once more, draping yourself over him like a blanket and pulling a tired sigh from his lips as your touch immediately slows his racing heart. You run your fingers through his hair, black intertwined with white, and press a soothing kiss to his cheek, “I don’t care what comes next, my love.” 
Your soft words draw his attention and he looks at you, brows furrowed in surprise, “You don’t?”
“Not at all,” you murmur, steeling yourself to be strong for him regardless of the future, “Whatever happens, I shall face it with you. That’s enough for me.”
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gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino
aemond tags: @demirunner @iloveslasher @neithriddle @moneypriestess @anak1nsx @angelinap09
hotd tags: @cuddlejeongin
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
Note
i love ur stories sm
can i have like oscar takes off his racesuit and you can see hickeys on his neck and have him not notice until lando tells him about it (like whisper in his ear or something) while hes in the middle of an interview with no way to cover them at that point
I… would do anything for this man.
Cover It Up (OP81)
Summary: That one piece of clothing was hiding so much and Oscar just had to take it off.
Warnings: suggestive themes, Oscar being embarrassed, Lando’s laugh lol, language?
Note: y’all buckle up bc I have absolutely nothing to do today and I want to get through AS MANY requests as I possibly can before having to do school work
After the Qatar Grand Prix, every driver was on the verge of heatstroke. That didn’t miss the two papaya drivers at all. Their faces red and hot, beads of sweat falling quickly off their foreheads, Oscar and Lando wanted nothing to do with the press being shoved in their faces.
However, knowing that wasn’t particularly up to them, they put on their best smiles and nodded as they answered questions they got millions of times. It became too much for Oscar when the big lights shining down on them added to the heat he was already experiencing, becoming overwhelmed with the temperature.
“Can you hold this?” He asked Lando, shoving his water bottle to the boy’s chest.
Lando nodded as he continued listening intently to the interviewer, taking the object in his hands and disregarding the way Oscar turned around and began unzipping the top of his race suit.
“Too hot for you, Oscar?” The reporter giggled.
He laughed along with her as he pulled down the material to hang around his waist, still with his back facing them. Her question and conversing with Lando resumed as Oscar made last minute adjustments and turned back around.
At first, no one noticed as their eyes weren’t on him, more so paying attention to Lando’s response. But, when the conversation turned back to the two of them, the interviewer went silent as did the rest of the crew standing behind her.
Their bulging eyes on his, Oscar’s eyebrows drew together as he gave Lando a quick side glance. Similarly, Lando was incredibly confused by the new silence. That was until his eyes trailed down Oscar’s face to meet the big, purple hickeys painting the top and bottom of his neck.
“Oh… my god.” Lando whispered under his breath. The spots littered Oscar’s throat, the complete opposite of unassuming. There were some below his ears, but the majority of them lay scattered around the base of his neck. It got worse as Lando clocked the way some poked out from his fireproofs, very clearly resting on his collarbone as well.
Oscar frantically looked between Lando and the reporter, wanting impatiently for someone to tell him what was wrong. He was about to frustratedly ask why everyone was ogling him, but his teammate leaning in and whispering in his ear stopped any further movements.
“Mate, I think Y/n might’ve left a few hickeys.” He said, throat clearing at the mention of her name. Frankly, he was so taken aback by the severity of the bruises, not expecting that from the sweet, quiet girl that was Oscar’s girlfriend.
He watched as Oscar’s face fell, completely mortified, and his hands came up to cover his neck.
“Oh, I- um-” He stuttered, his PR manager shaking her head behind him.
“Let me just,” He began as he pulled his suit back on begrudgingly. It was hot, extremely hot, but not enough to sit in front of a group of strangers with the proof of him and his girlfriend’s intimate life on display.
When things were back to normal, hickeys finally covered, yet still lingering in the minds of everyone involved, the reporter hesitantly went on. She was kind enough as to not address it, something which neither made it worse nor better.
He tried to push down the red on his cheeks for the remainder of the interview, but failed as every five seconds images of Y/n sitting on his lap and pulling groans from him when she met the right spot under his ear flashed in his brain.
The interview went on longer than Oscar wanted, its ending warranting him flying from his chair and seeking the safety of his room.
Lando, the poor man, was left behind to exchange a few last words with the reporter, thanking her for her patience and the way she handled the “uncomfortable situation”.
When he trailed back into hospitality alone, Lando found Y/n sitting at one of the tables on her phone. He sat down next to her, smiling mischievously, “Hi, Y/n.”
She looked at him weirdly, “Why do you sound like you know something?”
He chuckled, “Because I do.”
Her eyes widened, “You do? What is it? Did you finally figure out what happened between Charlotte and Charles?”
He laughed, knowing how much she loved their gossiping sessions, but shook his head, “No, I know something about you.”
Her head cocked, “Oh? What is it?”
“You like Oscar’s neck.” His response made her eyebrows draw together.
“What?” She asked, clearly confused.
“Everyone saw the hickeys.” Now, she understood. Her body jumped from her chair and ran off toward the stairs to Oscar’s room, not saying a word in response to Lando.
She reached his room quickly, knocking feverishly on the door, “Oscar, open the door.”
She heard it click and her boyfriend came into view, his face a tomato shade, something she knew didn’t have to do just with the heat.
“What happened?” She asked as he ushered her in.
Locking the door behind them, he tilted his head back to show her his purple neck, “When the fuck did you do this?!”
To be honest, it was worse than she remembered. His throat was, practically, a physical symbol of her attraction to him.
“That had to have been last night.” The bruises were too fresh to be days old.
“That’s what I thought,” He nodded, padding over to the small mirror beside her on the wall and inspecting further.
“Well, the whole world has seen them.” He gave, sighing when her hand trailed the purple mark just below his ear.
She nodded slightly, “You know, I’m not that mad about it. Now, all those girls on the internet can back off.”
His eyebrows raised, “Yeah?” He slid his hands around her waist and kissed her teasingly, “Should I give you some to let the guys on the internet know to back off too?”
Her chuckling was interrupted by a moan when he sucked deeply on the underside of her jaw, “That sounds like a great idea.”
It definitely proved to be a great idea.
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tired-biscuit · 11 months
Text
fem!reader // age gap; bakugou is in his early 30s, reader is in her 20s.
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bakugou gives me “get off my lawn!” vibes.
i imagine him gardening in front of his new home in a quiet little neighbourhood that he’s moved into after a particular scandal — the idea recommended as a solution to easing his temper in one of his anger management classes that his friends had somehow managed to convince him to go to — when his wrath comes face to face with you for the very first time.
he’s kneeling in front of the little garden that’s situated underneath his living room window as he digs his hands into the soil, no gloves, and with dirt pushing underneath his fingernails so deep that he’ll only be able to scrub it out when he finally heads inside to take a shower later.
so, he’s tending to the small patch of soil. with his brow furrowed and his teeth repeatedly sinking into the inside of his cheek, the temporarily-retired pro hero is visibly trying so hard to not crumple the flowers that he’s spent ages fighting to keep alive in their little pots ever since the day his stupid therapist had instructed him to buy the seeds, put them on the windowsill, take care of them, and watch them grow just like the calmness and the ‘zen’ in him is supposed to, or whatever the fuck.
and sure enough, the little fuckers actually grew. they grew so big actually, that he now has to complete yet another pesky task, consisting of finding them a new spot where they can fully flourish before they can get the chance to overtake his entire window, bed, room, even him, perhaps.
grumbling under his breath, the raging blond feels somewhat proud as he stares at his little creations. i mean, who knew he had it in him? a proper green thumb; attached to the explosive, otherwise oftentimes murderous palm of katsuki fucking bakugou!
and speaking of murderous: the look on katsuki’s face is a near perfect example of the word as he goes to place the first plant into the little hole that he’s just finished digging up. with his crimson eyes dangerously narrowed, he watches intently how the petals bend, as well as the leaves, whilst he picks up the poor flower and starts transfering it from pot to soil.
luckily, neither break or tear under his thick fingers. he’s being gentle and delicate for a change — adjectives people would never describe him with at first glance, nor after getting to know him a little bit better. no, he’s a grump through and through, and the focus in his head is so high now, in fact, that it even causes a wrinkle to etch itself deep into the middle of his forehead, accentuating the previous statement even further.
but that grump in him really manages to shine through the moment a football suddenly appears out of nowhere and knocks over one of the pots he’s brought outside only minutes prior.
tink! — a thin little crack appears on one side of the pot, now. bakugou, holding his breath without even realizing it, watches as it spreads through the glazed ceramic. the flower lays limply on the concrete step beside the garden that it’s just been knocked into. it had been his favourite one of the plants, the petals were so pretty and in a gorgeous shade of orange, but he can’t dwell on it; not when the crack is still spreading.
it’s spreading, spreading, spreading. just like the anger that bubbles within him.
tink, tink, crack! — the pot is chipped. a little piece of it crumbles off and falls onto the step.
oh, no. it’s ruined. it’s all ruined and the perfectionist in him is screaming.
and fuck, red fury swoops upon bakugou’s mind like a hawk at that. it’s such a small thing, a mere accident, but he just can’t help it; life’s been hard as of late. with his jaw clenched and all anger management lessons forgotten, he grabs the football and tightens his hold around it with both hands until he can feel the sparks dancing on his palms. until he can feel the warmth start to radiate from them.
the heat makes the synthetic leather hiss. it tingles, from his hands, all over his body. he hasn’t indulged in his quirk in such a long time. it feels good, even if the emotions that now plague and storm his outraged mind are awfully bitter.
and as for rage…
“are you fucking kidding me?!” his voice booms through the air as he pushes up to his full height in one swift, scary movement. “you stupid, brainless brats; how many fuckin’ times have i told you not to play he—”
it’s not often that katsuki stops in his tracks mid-sentence — especially in the midst of such a venomous one, at that — but the moment he whirls around and lays his eyes on you, deadly silence falls.
i mean, how can he not turn quiet? jesus on a cross, there’s a girl standing in front of him now, instead of a kid or an old lady. an actual girl, and she’s fucking gorgeous.
dressed in comfortable shorts, a cute crop top that shows just a sliver of your stomach, and colourful, almost childish flip-flops, your skin looks like it’d be warm to the touch if he were to stroke it. the sunshine that blazes above you on this hot summer’s day, causes sweat to glimmer in a layer so thin on your forehead. it makes the little hairs that frame your pretty face curl because of the way they’re turning damp with salt. makes the side of your neck have a certain sheen to it as well.
bakugou’s head cocks to the side as he assesses you further. sure, it’s hot out, however the heat doesn’t seem to be the main reason as to why you look so appealingly disheveled. after all, you’re inhaling and exhaling fast, and your shoulders are rising and falling even quicker as you seem to be trying to catch your breath.
did you run all the way over here?
“sorry… hi! lemme just… ah… catch my breath for a quick second… gosh.” he blinks at the sound of your voice as you raise your hand in apology before resting both of them onto your knees and bending over at the middle. your demeanor almost seems sheepish when you look up at him from underneath your lashes, still trying to ease your breathing. “i’m so, so, so sorry for your flowers, mister dynamight, sir…! my little brother kicked the football way too hard as we were playing a game he made up, so i just… i, uh, i ran over here to apologize on his behalf, and to… get the ball back.”
katsuki quirks a brow as he lets his gaze fall to the football he still holds in his hands, and for which you’re so clearly asking to get back, now. he knows the kid who you’re referring to as your brother — an especially irritating little menace that’s been sucking his blood through a goddamn straw, with all the pranks he and the group of brats he calls his friends have been initiating on his property as of late.
and sure enough, when he looks over your shoulder, the little shit is nowhere to be found.
the thought of the kid continuously stepping on his nerves for the last few weeks angers him in a flash, making his grip on the football tighten and start to smoulder; it makes smoke spiral in thin lines underneath his fingertips. though, when he lifts his gaze and lets his eyes land on you again — on that stupidly pretty, sweaty face of yours — bakugou surprisingly feels that white-hot rage somewhat disippating bit by bit.
hand to heart, he’s intrigued by you. you don’t seem to mind being in his presence, despite the fact that you seem to know fully well who exactly he is. and if you know that, then you’re surely familiar with the rumours and gossip that never cease to follow a big name like his. as well as the public announcement, talking about his — forced — temporary retirement from the hero business, because of the consistently violent outbursts he had failed to tame over the years.
for fuck’s sake, the dynamight is your neighbour, and you seem to be outright unbothered by it. it’s peculiar as fuck.
and it’s also the reason why the only thing he grunts out now, is, “you’re new.”
“i’m sorry?” that surprises you. your brief confusion is evident in the way you straighten, as well as how your own head lightly tilts so that you can look at him properly for the first time ever since you’ve stepped foot on the patch of land he should be calling home.
“you’re new,” he repeats simply, jerking his chin towards your direction and pointing the football at you. “i haven’t seen ya ‘round here before.”
“oh—ohh…” there it is; a wonderful smile appears on your otherwise pouty lips as you smack your forehead in realization. “yeah; that totally makes sense! i came back home just a couple of days ago to spend summer break with my family, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen me around yet.”
summer break. so you must be still in college? it’s not odd that you’re still a student, with a tight body like that, clothes so revealing and scarce, and a face that just screams youth, youth, youth. adding it all together, bakugou catches himself feeling not all that thrown off by the fact that you’re in school, pursuing a degree.
at least you have a goal in life. unlike him, and his stupid gardening.
nevertheless, he gives you a curt nod and tries to tame the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he hands you back the ball he’d considered melting with his quirk just moments before. he’s still so angry because of the pot.
it held his favourite flower, goddammit.
“you’re new here, too,” you chime as you take the ball from his hands. “i know you weren’t here the last time i came to visit… i’d remember a man like you if he were living across the street from me.”
he isn’t entirely sure if you actually don’t see it, or you simply turn a blind eye towards the dirt and the branding that he’s now burned into the ball with his fingers, but both choices seem just dandy to bakugou as he watches you grin up at him, now. so cutesy.
“moved in a couple of months ago,” he explains briefly, clearing his throat and wiping his hands against his black gym shorts. he has to wash them later anyway; what’s a little bit of sweat and dirt? “been sort of… startin’ over, hah.”
you could call it that, all right.
you give him a knowing look, but don’t say anything about the article that had covered the first page of nearly every newsletter in the country not a while back.
dynamight retires at the young age of 33 after yet another savage misdemeanor! read more below!
no, instead you say, “well, that’s nice. i certainly hope that you’ve adjusted and that our little neighbourhood has been treating you well, mister dynamight, sir.”
that last word… did you say it like that; so softly, almost purring, the first time, too?
“i suppose i did,” he answers, feeling a heat that he can’t blame on the late afternoon sun start to crawl up his neck. it’s not intense enough to make him blush, per se, but it is enough to tint the tips of his ears a light pink. damn, it sure has been a while if a mere tone has got him acting like this.
your smile grows bigger as you notice the faint change of shade. it makes your face beam. “i know it’s quaint compared to the city, but i’m sure you’ll learn to like it.”
he watches you turn so that you can head back to your house, inside of which your menace of a little brother is surely hiding, and he can’t help but eye you up from head to toe again, well, heel. the back of you is just as stunning as your front is, he’s dragging his eyes all over; that is until you whip your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder.
“oh, and mister dynamight?”
“what?” he calls out. you’ve already reached the sidewalk.
“i really am sorry about your flower pot. i’ll buy you a new one, if you’ll let me,” you say, waving. “just don’t be a stranger, yeah?”
katsuki doesn’t answer. he wants to say a million things all at once, to agree, to deny, whatever. to tell you to call him katsuki, or at least bakugou; that he hasn’t been called dynamight in a while and hasn’t felt like him either for a long while, too. to ask you what your name is, because he’s just realized he’s never got it. to try shooting his shot, or just talk, talk, talk because he’s lonely, he’s been feeling oh, so very lonely ever since moving here.
but all he does instead, is raise his hand and wave.
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undercovercameron · 10 months
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sunspent
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summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.
notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3
tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count: 2542
The whole day had been perfect. 
You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck. 
The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much. 
Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you. 
The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you. 
It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms. 
“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”
You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight. 
“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)
“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig. 
“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty. 
“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”
“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.
“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”
You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist. 
“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean. 
You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer. 
“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser. 
“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever. 
“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face. 
“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him. 
“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make. 
“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders. 
“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”
“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man. 
“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down. 
This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes. 
Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps. 
“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes. 
“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it. 
“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.  
“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close. 
“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side. 
He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way. 
“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish. 
He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately. 
His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it. 
“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it. 
His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again. 
“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”
You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit. 
“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt. 
“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be. 
“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree. 
You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no. 
Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth. 
“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”
“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins. 
This time you can and do roll your eyes. 
“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”
Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly. 
“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild. 
“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”
“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick. 
He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist. 
You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly. 
It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.
His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken. 
Exactly what you’d imagined. 
“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips. 
His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips. 
You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride. 
It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work. 
You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work. 
“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours. 
You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek. 
The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time. 
“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark. 
He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you. 
You know you’ll have bruises there. 
You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.
Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting. 
At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much. 
Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood. 
“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body. 
His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling. 
“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath. 
He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god. 
The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there. 
He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill. 
“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat. 
“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat. 
Yeah, drive-up it is.
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sagesolsticewrites · 3 months
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religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips
in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day
- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀
(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)
a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!
Word count: 2870
Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞
Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍
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You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.
Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.
He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.
“Hey baby, how was—”
In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.
You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”
You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.
“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”
You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”
“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.
You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.
“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.
He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”
He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.
His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.
“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”
A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”
Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.
At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.
“Need your words, pretty girl.”
“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.
As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.
At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.
You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.
His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.
You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.
“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”
The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.
“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.
“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”
Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.
“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”
He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.
He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.
You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…
Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.
You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.
He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.
“You”
Kiss
“Are”
Kiss
“Fucking”
Kiss
“Stunning”
Kiss
When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.
And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.
“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.
You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”
“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”
Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.
He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…
Pulls.
The lace.
To the side.
You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.
Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.
He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.
He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.
His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.
“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.
He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”
The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.
Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.
“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.
“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”
You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.
Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.
You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.
“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”
Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.
When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.
“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”
As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”
He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.
You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.
He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.
“Feelin’ better?”
You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”
Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.
“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”
He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”
You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.
“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”
You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”
You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you most.”
“I love you infinity.”
“I love you infinity plus one”
“I love you—”
“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”
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Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis
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hazelnelliesgf · 7 months
Text
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☆STARS AND TEENAGE GIRLS☆
Chapter 1 : Observing you from afar
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Hazel Callahan x Fem!Reader
Summary: PJ and Josie drag Hazel to their local coffee shop, not knowing you work there part time.
Warnings: loser!hazel cuz shes so cute bro, i dont refer to reader as Y/n cuz its easier but apart from that, thats it.
Proof-read!!
Words: 0.9k
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It was a regular fall day, the wind bitter and cold against Hazel's face. Her brunette locks swept back and forth against her forehead, sometimes making her bring her hand up to move it out the way just so she could see. PJ and Josie walked beside her, chatting about something that Hazel wasn't very focused on. She occasionally sniffed as the cold got to her nose. She rubbed it and placed her hands back into her coat pockets. PJ had stopped infront of a small shop. The smell of coffee and fresh pastries intoxicated Hazel's cold nose and made it feel all warm.
"Okay we gotta go in here bro." PJ says, her face lighting up as she speaks. She looks back towards Josie and Hazel with the same smile. She then steps forward and opens the shop door, setting off the small bell at the top to alert the baristas that someone has come in. Hazel and Josie walk in behind PJ and sit down at a small table. The shop is decorated head to toe in fake vines (at least that's what Hazel thinks) and posters with astrology facts and constellations on them. Josie picks up the menu in the middle of the table and scans through before handing it to PJ. She looks up and down the sheet of paper and passes it to Hazel. Hazel grimaces as she looks at the paper. She doesn't particularly drink coffee and the teas sound weird. But PJ and Josie don't know that. She finds what she wants and keeps it in mind.
"Who's gonna order it then?" Josie perks up after a while. PJ looks at Hazel and so does Josie. Hazel stutters and raises her hands in the air in defence.
"W-What?? No. I'm not doing it." PJ and Josie look at her before pushing her towards the counter. She fiddles with her rings and looks up to meet your eyes. She swears she's never seen eyes like yours. The way they twinkle in the fairy lights makes her stomach flip.
"Hey, Welcome! What can I get you?" You smile. Hazel can feel a lump forming in her throat. You've somehow stumped her. You frown and look at her with a look of concern.
"Hey, take your time. No rush." You reassure her, even though she knows exactly what to order, she just can't seem to get her words out. She looks around before sighing and looking down at her beat-up converse.
"C-Can I get a medium iced latte with normal milk and uh-" Hazel shallows before continuing.
"A-And a pumpkin cream cold brew... and uh a normal iced coffee please." Hazel finishes, swallowing hard when you smile and nod at her. You type something into your machine before turning back to her. You can't help but notice her nervous state and slightly frown before she looks up at you.
"That'll be $14.99! Will you paying cash or card today?" You smile again, tapping your hands against the counter happily. Hazel quickly gets out her card, before tapping it against the card reader. You nod as it beeps to let you know its gone through. She's about to walk away as you pipe up,
"And I'll need a name for the drinks please." You say, beaming a grin at her. She stands at the counter, frozen to her spot. How could she forget her name? Just say it!
"H-Hazel. Just Hazel." She clarifies, nodding as she watches you write on cups before walking away to make the drinks. Hazel sits backs down next to PJ and Josie, her shoulders still tensed up.
"Ooohhh! Someone likes the barista!!" PJ speaks up, wiggling her eyebrows at Hazel and a grin spreads across her face. Josie chuckles at PJ and looks back at Hazel. She seems to be staring at you, working your magic on the drinks. You're chatting to your co-worker, laughing at what she just said and smiling widely. You place all drinks at the end of the counter and place straws into them.
"Drinks for Hazel?" You stand on your tip-toes to see if you can spot Hazel's face. When your eyes land on her, you wave and usher her on up to the counter.
"Dude go!" Josie pushes her towards you and you meet her by the counter once again. You smile and hand her the drinks. Hazel picks up all the drinks and struggles to hold all of them in her own two hands, making you wince when she almost drops one of them.
"Here, take a tray love." You say, grabbing her a tray and taking the drinks from her hand and placing the drinks on it. Your hands graze hers and she can swear the her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She again stares at your face, analysing your freckles and skin. It's almost like she's mesmerised by you. You snap her out of her trance by talking.
"Enjoy your drinks!" You smile at her before walking off to your co-worker. Hazel picks up the tray and walks stiffly back to the table. She sits down, grabs her drink and looks down at the receipt. Something is scribbled in black pen.
"See you soon, Just Hazel??" And its signed off by your name and number. Hazel can feel your eyes in the back of her skull and she smiles down at the receipt before shoving it in her pocket.
Maybe she doesn't hate coffee that much.
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A.N: Hiya!! Sorry if it so bad, I tried making it the best I could:) enjoy!!
TAGLIST!!
@greenbeenjade , @fictionalcharacterspecialistalist , @maggiecc , @evangelinexo , @overtrred28 , @almondmilksposts
©️ copyright to @hazelnelliesgf 2023.
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cottonconnielvr · 10 months
Note
can you write plug!connie but he yo baby daddy, love your work btw <3
WARNINGS ✩ — mom!reader(i got insane baby fever n i wanna be a stay at home mom so bad 😔), fluff, nothing honestlyyy
YOU woke up to the blaring sun in your face, causing you to scrunch your eyes up. It was 8:45 am. The usual time you wake up on the weekends. Yes the weekends. Being a stay at home mom, you were always up on your feet. Taking care of things at home while Connie took care of everything else.
Your body was locked in place from moving. Your daughter, Celeste, was wrapped around you from the back, squished between Connie who was facing you, his long arm wrapped around you both. You shook your head, assuming Celeste climbed in the bed in the middle of the night like she always does.
You slowly pried their arms off of you, leaving them quietly sleeping in bed. You headed to the bathroom, getting yourself ready for the day.
After a steamy shower and you’re 5-step skincare routine, you went to go make breakfast, deciding to make a standard breakfast.
Meanwhile, an hour and a half later, Celeste walked down the stairs, her teddy bear locked in her arms. The sound of Destiny’s Child filled her ears as she approached the kitchen island, struggling to lift her five year old body onto the chair.
“Morning mama, want some fruit?” Your daughter immediately smiled at the kiss pressed onto her forehead.
Celeste loves both of her parents, of course. Even as a five year old she knows all the stress you endure. But she’s never seen you cry, well she’s seen you cry over heels but that’s besides the point. She’s never seen either of her parents give up or argue. Even if she saw you upset at her dad, you always resolved the issue.You and Connie set your daughters standards very high.
“Yes pleaseee” She flashes a smile, very similar to Connie’s.
After preparing breakfast, you finally prepared the plates. “Mommy can I give daddy breakfast” Celeste speaks from across the island, now standing. But you can only see her puff of hair as it shows over the island.
You nod, grabbing a tray from the pantry and putting Connie’s plate on it. “Be careful” You warned, handing her the tray.
“Of courseeee” She dragged out. Man was she obsessed with that word.
Celeste carefully walked up the stairs, walking very slowly and steadily. She made sure his fruit wasn’t touching his bacon and his bacon didn’t touch the whipped cream on his waffles, just how he likes it.
“Daddyyy it’s morning time” She sung out as she stood next to the bed. Connie stirred in the bed, feeling it empty.
He looked over to his daughter, seeing her hold a tray with food and a huge smile on her face. Always smiling.. “Thank you babygirl” He grabbed the tray from her, immediately digging in. “Where’s your mom?” Connie asked Celeste as she climbed into bed beside him, stealing a piece of bacon from Connie’s plate , earning a side eye.
“She’s probably in the garden now but like um..um..are we still going to the mall today?” She took her time, smacking her teeth multiple times.
Connie shook his head at the little girl, “You are just like your mom mhm”
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“DONT step on my shoes. My dad bought them and they’re custom made.” Celeste sassily crossed her arms over her chest, yelling at her distant “cousins”.
You and Connie decided to stop by the cookout Ony was throwing, Connie doing a couple of drops as well. There were kids there so nothing crazy would happen, Connie trusted his best guys with his two favorite girls so he felt okay with leaving.
“Oh yeah? My dad is like the biggest strongiest coolest ever!” One of the kids of a family friend argued. “Strongiest isn’t even a word” Celeste rolled her eyes. “That’s why my dad gave me this!” Celeste pulled out an one hundred dollar bill out of her pocket, causing the kids the gasp.
“Woah she’s like rich” One boy said from his spot on the floor. Celeste smiled, stuffing it back into her pocket. “Yeah so don’t act like I don’t have motion!” Celeste copied the word that she always heard her dad say around her.
Truth be told, Celeste was a bit….egotistical. I mean come on Connie Springer is her father. To her parents she’s an angel but once she’s around kids her age, she’s talking about how big the Eiffel tower really is and how clear the water is in Fiji.
She’s a spoiled brat, just like you, in every single way.
After playing for hours, Celeste dramatically laid across your lap. “When is dad coming back” Just then she jumped up, seeing the sight of her father.
“Hi daddy!” He lifted her up into the air before just holding her on the side of his waist. “Hey princess, you have fun?” She hummed, nodding her head before he placed her down.
“Hi A-armin” Celeste waved while looking up, her face growing hot. Armin was Celeste’s first crush. “Hey little one” Armin smiled down at the child, patting her head before handing her a $5 bill. “I hear the ice cream truck, why don’t you get yourself something”
Celeste couldn’t stop her smile, her kiddy crush feeling much more like true love. She ignored her fathers scowl and hugged the blonde’s legs before running off to the front yard with Onyankopon and a group of kids.
“Calm down boy, it’s just a silly little crush” You walked over to Connie, handing him your cup to sip out of. Your hand went around his waist, pulling him into a side hug.
“She’s only five. She doesn’t need any crushes, especially on Armin” Armin jerks his head back at the emphasis on his name.
“Acting like i’m ugly or something” He shook his head before greeting some other people. “Y’know she thinks he looks like a disney prince or something. Anyways how was your run?” You walk infront of Connie, grabbing his hand. He trailed behind you with the cup still in his hand. His eyes were glued to your butt in the skin tight sundress. “Hm baby?” You ask completely unaware. The weather was breezy and dawn had settled in, painting the sky purple and blue.
“Y’know I still want a son as well?” Connie completely ignored your question, his front pressing up against your back as his hand trailed down to your butt, lightly squeezing.
You jumped, gasping out “Connie there are innocent children here!”
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blueariel3-blog · 4 months
Text
Cookies
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You attempt to make a welcome home gift for your mate, but it doesn't go as planned.
A/N: This is my first time writing something for ACOTAR, let me know if you like it! Just something sweet and short. I could definitely use this right now :)
Azriel had been gone on a mission for several days across the sea and you were missing him terribly. Every time you caught his faint scent, found a clothing item of his stuffed in the bottom of the laundry basket, or spotted his favorite book lying on the coffee table, your heart ached a little bit more for him. It was hard to be away from your mate but you knew his job was important to keeping your court and family safe. 
You glanced at the clock again, noting that it was still relatively early in the night and he wasn't due home until tomorrow afternoon. Needing something to occupy your time, you decided to try some baking. Elain had bought you a cookbook for your birthday a few months prior after you admitted that you didn't have a knack for cooking and struggled to come up with recipes. 
You pulled the book from the top shelf of your pantry, lightly dusting it off and laying it on the smooth countertops. You thumbed through the soft pages and noted the little details Elain had written in and smiled at her thoughtfulness. Little notes like "Try this one!" and "Make on a cold winter night!" were scattered throughout the book. She even went as far as starring her favorite recipes. 
You found a recipe towards the back of the book for chocolate chip cookies. Despite being a very fit Illyrian male, Azriel had the biggest sweet tooth. He was always eating something sweet or drinking something sugary; you're honestly not sure how his teeth didn't rot out. You smiled to yourself, already feeling how happy he would be to come home to one of his favorite treats. 
An hour later, flour littered the countertops along with several different types of sugars, chocolate chips, salts, flour, and butter. The first batch you made was still raw on the inside so you quickly threw them out. The second bath had cooked too long (you were afraid of another raw middle) and were so hard, they didn't even budge as you banged them against the countertops. 
The third batch had too much flour and immediately crumbled when you picked it up. After each failed attempt, your irritation grew until you had finally had enough and sent the pan of unedible cookies flying off the counter and towards the front door. It happened to be at that moment that your mate walked through the door. 
His brows furrowed as something hit his leg and then crumbled into a heap by his feet, the smell of something burning filling his nostrils. He raised a singular eyebrow as he looked towards you in the kitchen, only to find tears welling up in your eyes that you were desperately trying to keep from falling. 
He was quick to drop his weapons and reach for you. His scarred hands were gentle as they grabbed your waist and he slowly pulled your body towards his. He noted the baking ingredients on the counter, the dirty apron covering the front of one of his t-shirts you wore, and the sweat coating your brow and came to one conclusion: you were trying to bake. He fought back a smile as he slowly tucked you into his arms, your forehead resting against his chest. 
You breathed in his scent and instantly relaxed. His arms tightened their hold on you and you relaxed further, slinging your arms around his waist and peeking up at him. His nose brushed across your cheek and then across your nose as he rested his brow against yours. 
"Hi," you whispered to him. Your cheeks were slightly tinted pink as you rested your chin on his chest to stare into his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ears and his eyes seemed to melt as he took in the sight of his mate. 
"Hi," he whispered back. Your soft giggle warmed his heart and he couldn't stop placing a sweet peck on your lips. "What's going on in here?" His tone was light and playful, afraid of sending you into another meltdown. 
You sighed heavily, pulling away to look at all the failed attempts at a welcome home gift scattered throughout the kitchen. 
"I was going to make you some cookies to come home to but I couldn't get the recipe right. The first ones were still raw, the next ones were too burnt, and the ones that I accidentally flung at you had crumbled because they had too much flower." 
As you recounted the day's activities to Azriel, his smile only grew out of the love he had for you. You felt the warmth through the bond and melted further into his chest. He placed another kiss on your brow before pulling back and going to retrieve the cookie sheet from the doorway. 
"Well, let's bake them together." He gave you a soft smile as he dumped your cookies into the trashcan. 
"Okay," you smiled as he organized the ingredients on the counter. He carefully read the directions and his shadows would bring you the ingredients one at a time as needed. They tickled your arms and legs as you two stood side by side and you giggled, brushing against them lovingly. 
When the batter was done, Azriel helped you carefully scoop each cookie out and place it on the tray. You placed them on the rack in the oven, dusting flour from your fingers as they set to bake for 15 minutes. 
Azriel pulled the apron off of you and chucked it behind him as he reached down and scooped you into his arms. You yelped as his hands found your bottom and squeezed playfully. 
"What are you doing?" You laughed as he walked further into your house. 
"Spending time with my mate," he replied as he settled you both on the couch. He was lying on his back, holding you tightly to his chest. You felt something soft against your skin and looked back to see the shadows placing a blanket on top of you before darting off to the kitchen. 
You folded your hands across his chest and then placed your head on top so you could see him properly. He gave you his best grin, the one you only ever got to see. It was reserved just for you. 
"Sorry I didn't have them ready before you got home. I thought you wouldn't be home until tomorrow." He brushed the hair away from your face as he flooded the bond with warmth once again. 
"It's quite alright. It was the thought that counts. Besides, I like baking with you." 
"Oh, do you now?" You grinned and tilted your head, watching as a smirk pulled at his lips. "And why's that?" 
He quickly leaned up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. 
"Because that means I get 15 minutes with you, uninterrupted, while we wait for them to bake." 
He wiggled his eyebrows and you burst out laughing. He gently gripped your arms and flipped you so he was hovering above you. He placed a kiss on your cheek, then your other one, then your forehead, nose, chin, neck, and finally on your lips. 
You sighed as you melted into him, arms coming to wrap around his neck. You had been thinking about doing this since he left for his mission last week. His hair was soft as you carded your fingers through it, lips firm and accepting as he poured his love into you. 
Azriel laid his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you softly brushed through his hair. His shadows whispered that there were only a few more minutes until the cookies were done, but there was enough dough for at least 4 more batches. 
He smiled and sent them back to watch the cookies. His hands squeezed your sides lovingly as he closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of finally being able to return home. 
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
Text
Hurt
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You fall
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It all happens so quickly.
One minute you're holding Sam's hands, walking up icy, stone steps at half-time and the next you've lost your footing.
Your crumpled body lies at the very bottom, your head making impact with each and every step on your way down. The players yet to retreat to the locker are horrified and the crowd is as well.
You're very much a staple at Chelsea matches, almost as famous as your mothers and people delight in getting you to sign Harder and Eriksson jerseys.
It's like a scene out of a particularly disturbing movie to see you in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
To make it even worse, you're not moving.
Sam, in particular, looks like she's going to be sick - caught between staring at your unmoving body and the hand that you had been holding previously. She takes the stairs two at a time to get down to reach you, where coach Emma has already got a hand on your neck, checking your pulse.
"Someone get Pernille and Magda," She orders and Jessie takes off at a run," And for fuck's sake, where are the medics?!"
You come to as she's yelling and try to lift your head. It's pounding in agony and you can feel every bit of movement like you're on fire.
"No, no, y/n," Coach Emma says softly, pressing your head back down," Don't move. Stay very still."
In an instant, you burst into tears. You're disorientated and confused and the pain is enough to make you want to curl into a ball and die. In particular, a spot right in the middle of your forehead feels icky and wet in a way that you don't like.
Even though you're crying, you do as Coach Emma says because she's very smart and looks after you sometimes when Momma and Morsa are playing.
You can hear clamouring behind you, both from voices you recognise and those you don't.
You scream and sob into the ground as hands go onto your back.
The medics.
"Hey, kiddo," One of them says in their soft voice," We're going to roll you over, okay? I need you to be very brave for me and stay flat on your back."
Hands are on your little shoulders as you're flipped over. The brightness of the winter sun makes you wince and screw your eyes shut. You cry even louder, huge, gut-wrenching screams accompanying them.
When you open your eyes again, it's to a permanent redness in one of them.
Blood.
Blood from your icky and too-wet forehead.
It makes you scream and sob all over again.
One of the medics shines a light in your eye and makes you follow his finger.
"Pupils are uneven," He says to Coach Emma but your English isn't working properly so you don't understand what he's saying," And slow response to tracking my finger. Where are Pernille and Magda?"
"Coming," Sam insists but she sounds shaky and can't even bring herself to look at you. Pernille and Magda had trusted her to get you safely to the locker room. You should have already been there, snacking on goldfish crackers and wrapped up tight in your baby blanket. But you're on the ground with your head split open and what looks to be a concussion.
Because she couldn't keep a hold of your hand.
"They're coming."
The medic smiles down at you with a smile you recognise. It's the same smile Momma gives you when she doesn't want you to worry.
You're very scared to see it on someone else's face.
"Someone's going to hold your head, y/n," He says," And we're going to move you onto this stretcher and get you some help. Okay? You're being very brave."
You don't know what he's saying.
All of your English is gone and you don't know where your mothers are.
You scream and sob as you're moved, placed in a stretcher by the medics and taken inside.
The crowd claps you inside like you're a player but all you're focussing on is the running forms of your mothers.
"Momma, Morsa," Are the broken words that come out of your mouth.
They both look half to tears themselves.
"It's okay, princesse," Morsa says to you, thankfully in Swedish," It's all going to be okay. You're so brave. You're so good, babygirl."
Morsa doesn't call you babygirl often. Almost always y/n or princesse unless she feels scared. When she's scared, it's always babygirl. You whine and weakly reach out to her. She kisses your little hand as Momma takes her place.
Morsa disappears from your vision and you're carted away to the treatment room so you don't see her grab Sam by the jersey and slam her against the wall.
"Hi, princesse," Momma says as she joins you, holding your hand tightly. She's speaking Danish, low and comforting like your bedtime stories. "You're doing so well. Just a little longer."
The pain hasn't lessened and you can't even nod without a wave of nausea running through your little body.
You zone out completely as you're lifted into her arms and braced against her. You try to wriggle away when the doctor approaches to sew up your still-bleeding forehead but Momma's grip is iron-tight and you don't have the energy to fight for long.
Your tears run down your cheeks as you cry. As soon as he pulls away, you gag and your breakfast leaves your stomach. It makes you sob even more, unaware of why you've even thrown up.
"Concussion," The doctor says to Momma," For certain."
Her hold on you tightens as she mops up your face and the front of your shirt. "How bad?"
"She did lose consciousness briefly," The doctor says," But it's not grade three...barely."
Momma nods, finally deciding to just take off your t-shirt as you whine and weakly tug at it. Your eyes slide closed for a few moments in your sudden drowsiness but you force them open each time.
"She'll be okay? She...It's just she's so little. Are you sure?"
"She'll be fine. No screen time, no sports, lots of water. If she throws up more than twice a day, passes out or has a seizure, take her right to the hospital. I don't recommend her going back onto the pitch because of the noise. She needs a nice, quiet place to start her recovery."
Momma nods and takes you out of the room. You tuck yourself into the crook of her neck as she walks you to the locker room.
Morsa is waiting outside, pacing but lights up when she sees you both. Momma reports everything to her as she inspects your head. You try to move away from her grip but sag in exhaustion when Morsa takes you in her arms.
"I scared Sam," She reports," Like, really scared her. I just saw red."
"You have to apologise."
"Later." Morsa waves it away as she changes your shirt, being as delicate and careful as possible. "Emma said we don't have to stay. She's already put people on in our places. We...We should get her home."
"Magda...It's okay to cry."
The dam breaks in that instant and Morsa holds you tighter, one arm around your little body and the other around the back of your head, holding you against her as she sobs into your hair.
You whine a little, completely drained but slump against her, soaking in the comfort and warmth of Morsa. You feel a little better now that you're wrapped up with your mothers, protected in a nice little bubble away from everything outside.
You stick your hand out behind you, where you know Momma is. She joins you, taking your hand and covering you in your baby blanket. It's been oversized since they bought it so it covers your body and head easily.
It drapes over you and a bit of Morsa's shoulder. It plunges you into near darkness. It's nice. To not have to be blinded by the bright lights.
"She-She fell," Magda says as she sobs to Pernille," There's already a video up. It was icy and she slipped. Pernille, she hit every step. We're lucky she didn't break her neck."
"But she didn't. Magda, she didn't. She's right here. She's safe. She's going to be better in a few weeks."
Magda nods but doesn't quite look like she believes it.
"Let's go home," Pernille says," We'll get back. You can baby proof the whole house like I know you want to and we'll cuddle her to death."
Magda sighs but nods again. You're completely limp in her grip, still awake but just barely. Your movements are sluggish and tinged with drowsiness. Your cut has been sewn shut and the bruising is minimal right now but it still kind of aches a little bit.
You look extra cute in an oversized Harder jersey to make up for the t-shirt you had thrown up over. Your baby blanket is tight around you and you smile up at your mothers sleepily.
"Sam probably feels terrible," Pernille says as she gently guides Magda out of the locker room and stadium," I think we'll get a gift package delivered soon."
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Who's your daddy? | s.r
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summary: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father… But who's his father?
warnings: too much fluff, spencer!dad, my best attempt at Spencer dad because it's 24/7 on my mind. I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT, AAAAAAAAAAA. This story is not spencer x reader, i wanted to try something different so i created a character. I hope you guys like it.
words: 4,241.
a/n: I decided to surprise myself and try the family/family found challenge from one of my favorite writers in the whole universe, @imagining-in-the-margins. I used, I think, one of my favorite concepts which is "secret family/spouse/child" for this little au.
i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :( I hope you like it, plus I really enjoyed being able to try something new and outside of what I usually focus my writing on. THANK YOU, TQM.
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Catching criminals is a good way to kill time.
The BAU team knew this perfectly well, that's why they were dedicated to it. Every day was a new experience trying to find and capture the worst of the worst of humanity. Even though sometimes they just wished those freaks would take a day off.
The last case had sent them all the way to Silicon Valley, successfully catching the unsub and making it safely back to the FBI offices.
What they didn't expect was to find their technical analyst and friend, Penelope, gazing in amazement at the inside of a stroller.
"What is that, Penny?" asked Emily, walking up to the blonde figure who was totally engrossed by what she was seeing in that baby carriage. The group approached silently, after seeing the woman's signal for them to come as quietly as possible, and saw inside it.
A small baby was sleeping comfortably inside. They estimated that he was about eight months old; they could see a few strands of thin brown hair that were tousled falling down his forehead, his little nose was puckered and his little hand clenched the tail of a fluffy lion. His outfit was as cute as possible: his body was adorned by a white long-sleeved T-shirt with an iguana on it and a leaf-green overalls, but much of his body was covered by a gray blanket.
"Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Penn looked up, feeling her heart stir. "I went out to greet you and found this beautiful creature. He was sleeping and alone, so I decided to keep him company until someone came to claim to be the father of this beautiful peach." J.J couldn't fall for the charms of that baby, after becoming a mother her Achilles heel was children.
"Was he alone, Penelope, are you sure there was no one with him?" Luke couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that they had left a baby, alone, in the middle of a hallway in a federal building. "Positive, I've been there for about ten minutes and I haven't seen anyone approach him."
The team brought their full attention to the mysterious stroller, looking for some sign of what would be the perpetrators. Hanging there was a gray-colored bag with a small giraffe keychain; inside it was the necessities for any kind of emergency that might happen. Diapers, change of clothes, some food, powdered milk, a bottle, everything necessary for a baby.
"We should check the cameras to see who brought him here" Matt suggested, feeling his nose being invaded by the smell of baby cologne, a very mild and almost hypnotic one.
"It's a blind spot, Matt." Tara replied, noticing how the little guy rolled over and let out an adorable yawn, falling back asleep. "He's too cute." Penelope's eyes seemed to shoot hearts.
"We should move him out of the hallway, it's drafty and he might catch a cold." J.J brought her hands up to the carriage and began to push it, being followed by the rest of the people back to their cubicles.
Despite the movement, the little boy, who was now nicknamed "peach" thanks to Garcia, remained in that deep sleep.
"I wish I had that deep sleep" Emily smiled, looking at peach's features.
He looked like someone.
Who was it?
"I want to go back to those times where my only problem was sleeping and eating" Rossi commented, causing his colleagues to laugh.
"I don't understand how a baby could have gotten up there without anyone seeing him. It's a building full of federal agents, there's no way no one saw anything." Matt nodded at Luke's words. "Let's jump to conclusions, how did a sleeping baby get here? There's no way he pushed his own car to get here." J.J peeled his gaze from the car, feeling a light bulb in his head turn on.
"In the bag there were juice boxes, it is unlikely that they are for him. It is recommended that at twelve months they can only have juice, so they may be from the parent or he has a brother or sister accompanying him" Rossi smiled, nodding at the words the young woman was saying. It was quite logical coming from the mother bear.
"If that were so, where is this responsabl-"
"Excuse me," A high pitched voice interrupted Luke's sentence "I believe you have my brother."
The group turned to see where the voice was coming from. A small figure was standing behind them, he looked quite calm and was running his hands down his brown pants.
The small glasses were drooping down the bridge of his nose, his hair was disheveled just like his little brother's and his hands were arranging the sleeves of his blue hoodie.
"I-is he your brother?" Emily stood at the height of the youngest, who was nodding before he approached the baby carriage and took to watching the little one, inwardly thankful that he remained in his deep sleep.
"I just went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone." The little boy drew an elongated smile, taking in the faces of everyone around the stroller. " You're federal agents, so I didn't panic too much when I didn't see him."
The boy settled on the floor, taking off the backpack he was carrying and pulled out of it a book, which had in golden letters the title of "The Little Prince." Apparently, it was in French.
"How do you know we're federal agents?" Luke seemed just as surprised as the others, who didn't understand how the youngest could remain calm after taking his brother away, and besides, he knew they were federal agents.
"It says so on your badge, sir" The small hand pointed in the direction of the badge hanging from his pants, causing everyone to turn their gaze to it. "Besides, my mom told me."
"And where is your mom?" Rossi was the one who took the word, smiling at the confidence the young man possessed.
"That's a good question, sir. I'd like to know where she is, too." He shrugged, trying to remember what the woman had told him before leaving him in the hallway of the BAU office. "I know she told me, but at the moment I can't remember. It was too noisy when she said it."
The rest were silent. The little boy was handling a rather formal vocabulary, one that is very strange for his age, plus he looked quite interested in reading his book than paying attention to the rest of the stares.
"Excuse me, sweetheart… But how old are you?" Penelope smiled friendly towards the young man, who took his eyes off his interesting book.
"Five and a half, but many say from the way I talk I'm older."
Luke opened his mouth, surprised at the young age he possessed and that, moreover, he was in charge of his brother.
"What about your brother, how old is he?"
"He's eight months and two weeks old, he's still not close enough to say he's nine months old, so I'd rather be exact."
Emily was increasingly sure that he looked like an exact copy of someone she knows, but she couldn't associate it.
"Even so," Continued the young boy "there's something you guys haven't asked me" the book took a step back, closing it and setting it down on his lap.
"What's that, kiddo?" Tara asked.
"My name or my brother's" The group looked at each other. He was right, they had been so preoccupied with finding out about the person in charge of them or their age that they had overlooked asking his name.
"You're right, that was rude of us, what's your name?" Matt fixed his gaze on the young figure, who was giving them a smile where one of his front teeth was missing.
"I'm Alex, well… Actually my name is Alexander, but my mom and dad call me Alex, except when they're mad." A small giggle escaped Jennifer's mouth. "And my brother's name is Oliver, but we call him Oli."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alex." Matt's hand extended in the direction of the little boy, who shook it with a smile. "What about you guys, what are your names?"
The group smiled, introducing themselves to each other so that the young boy could remember each name without a problem. After this, the little boy began to repeat the names, making sure he could remember each one well and be able to get each name right.
"Okay, Alex. Now that we know each other, I want to ask you a question" J.J addressed the little one, who gave him his full attention.
"Shoot, Miss J.J" His answer caused everyone to laugh, letting the little guy's charisma win them over.
"What are you doing here? I don't think you decided to come here at nine o'clock at night with your brother and mother just to see the place."
"Well, we actually came to see my dad." Admitted the little boy, adjusting his glasses.
"Your dad? And where is he?" Penelope searched with her gaze, as if she were on her computer looking up the information on her servers.
"It's a surprise! Dad doesn't know we're here, it's the first time we've come to see him at work. I wanted to surprise him so I asked Mom if she could bring me here, and since I've been good, she agreed." Proudly, Alex reached into his backpack for a neatly folded piece of paper. He opened it and held it out to J.J., who was surprised at the grades on that slip of paper.
"Wow, I see only A's here" The printout passed from hand to hand, noting that every course had been passed with the highest grade.
"Yep, even sports! Mr. Adams, my teacher, said I'd been the fastest in the class. Even though I prefer literature, I got along better with letters than balls."
Emily was sure she was a clear copy of the youngest on her team, Spencer Reid.
Wait, where was Spencer?
"Where is Spencer?" Emily turned her gaze to her buddies, who were handing the paper back to Alex so he could put it in his backpack.
"He said he was going to do some stuff on the fourth floor, then he'd be on his way here." Tara replied, turning her attention back to the little boy. "By the way, what's your dad's name? Maybe we can help you look for him, we're the best profiling group in the whole FBI, so we can find him fast."
"His name is Dad!"
"And what's your mom's name?"
"Mom?"
The group went blank. It was clear that a five-year-old wouldn't know what his father or mother's name was. Despite being quite intelligent, to him his parents were called "Mom and Dad."
But it seemed they had managed to summon something, for after mentioning the progenitor of both, little Oliver interrupted their conversation with a whimper announcing that his bedtime was over, plus his beloved mother figure was missing.
"Oh no…"
Alex moved in the direction of the backpack, opening it to look for his brother's pacifier.
The longer they lingered, the louder and louder the little boy's crying got. J.J tried to cuddle him, trying to soothe him while Emily rocked the stroller back and forth and Tara hummed a lullaby.
Luke and Matt were trying to distract him, waving their hands in front of him and making funny faces. Rossi was trying to help Penelope and little Alex with the search for the pacifier, who would occasionally bring his hands to his ears to stop the sound of his brother for a couple of seconds.
But silence came in surprise, causing everyone to stop their actions. Their gazes turned to the baby, who was giving a giggly laugh and wiggling his feet, babbling something. It looked like Oliver was feeling something.
"What's going on here?" a female voice interrupted them, again directing their gaze back.
A tall woman, who was wearing a simple beige sweater and black pants plus black converses, was approaching the stroller. The group of people moved away from her, who was leaving a plastic bag with a box in it on one of the desks and holding the baby in her hands.
She made sure to settle him on her shoulder, stroking his back slowly. Alex smiled, moving closer to the young woman and hugged her side, letting his glasses lift a little from being so tight against her.
"Mommy! Where were you, I thought you'd left me alone forever! Well… Not alone, I was with Oli but you know what I mean." The woman let out a giggle, bringing her free hand to the younger one's disheveled hair and stroked it, feeling the younger one squeeze tighter and tighter.
"Alex, love, I told you I was going to the store to buy Daddy's donuts, don't you remember?" She pushed little Oliver away so she could kiss his forehead and settle him back into the stroller. Her hands, now free, went to Oli's side and took a small pacifier, bringing it up to the baby's mouth, which he immediately accepted to begin sucking on.
"Oh… That's what you told me."
Thewhole group let out a laugh, noticing the little one's rosy cheeks. The woman, now recognized as "mommy", turned to look at the group who had taken it upon themselves to care for her two children.
"Gee, sorry for ignoring you guys." The girl giggled, giving them the same look Alex had given them a few minutes ago, fixing on each one. "Thanks for watching them, I know Alex is responsible, but I'm glad to know there were older ones around."
"You don't have to, Alex was a sweetheart. We were nosy and took his little brother, it was our mistake." Emily admitted.
"That's right, Mommy! I went to the bathroom and they had taken Oli" The young woman simply laughed, kissing the younger boy's forehead before speaking again.
"It's okay, kiddo. They did the right thing, they did the reasonable thing."
"We tried to find out who his parents were, but he told us their names were mom and dad" Alex nodded, looking at his progenitor who seemed quite amused by the whole situation.
Alex took her mother's hand, motioning her to come closer to tell her something. The female complied, listening intently to what her young son was saying before she let out a giggle and nodded, returning to her position.
"Well, actually called me mommy. But before I was called mommy I had another name, pumpkin. My name is Amanda, but at home they call me mommy or baba." Alex opened his eyes, surprised that his mother had another name besides "mommy."
"It's a pleasure, Amanda. I see all your names start with a vowel." Rossi was the first to speak, reaching out to shake Amanda's hand. "Your husband's too?"
"No, he's the exception." The femme admitted, beginning to wave to the round of people standing there.
For a couple of minutes, the group began a pleasant conversation where they talked about the time she was missing. They had jumped to the wildest conclusions, but they knew that at some point they would meet the mother of those two angels.
"Oh, I bought a lot of donuts now that I remember, do you like them? They're my husband's favorite." The woman walked over to the bag, from which she pulled out the box and smiled.
The group appreciated the gesture, beginning to receive and distribute the pastry among those present.
A chocolate-covered doughnut with sprinkles on top was received by each person.
Wait… Her husband's favorite?
Emily looked at the two little ones, then her gaze went to the young woman, then to the doughnut and her eyes went back to the little ones.
Emily could feel her head smoking from the way she worked.
No, it wasn't possible.
Spencer would have told her if it was.
"Excuse me, Amanda…" The mentioned one looked up, fixing her gaze on Emily as little Alex took small bites of his donut and shared it with his mother. "What-what did you say your husband's name was?"
"Oh! I didn't say it, actually." She admitted, taking a bite of the donut she was sharing with Alex. "His name is Spe-"
The answer interrupted by the shout Alex gave, turning away from his mother to run down the hallway for the new presence.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Spencer peered down the elevator, noticing how the small little man ran into his arms and pounced on him.
"Alex! What are you doing here, little one?" He carried the little guy, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek and looked him in the face. His cheeks were covered with chocolate and his glasses were drooping gracefully down his nose. "Are you alone, who brought you?"
"Mom did!" The youngest was smiling happily, playing with his progenitor's hair. "Dad, did you know Mom has another name besides Mom, her name is Amanda!"
"Yes, buddy. I knew mommy's name was Amanda, but I affectionately call her Mandi."
"I thought you called her Mommy, not Mandi."
Spencer carried his little boy over to the cubicles, finding his work group/friends staring at him with stupefaction on their faces. He was sure their faces were perfect for being part of a surreal painting.
"Spence, surprise." Amanda approached the man, leaving a kiss on his lips and received her husband's kiss back.
"What are you two doing here?" Spencer looked at his family with some surprise.
"Three, daddy. Oli's here too" The little hand pointed toward the stroller, where the movement of the youngest of the Reid family could be heard.
Spencer walked over to the baby carriage, leaving the eldest of the Reid brothers on the floor and peeked out so he could see his little boy, his newest devotion.
"Hi Oli, are you awake yet? Daddy's here." Oliver watched his father with his big hazel eyes, moving his hands so he could reach one of his father's curls. "Hey, buddy. How big are you." The man took the little guy in his hands, drawing him into his body so he could carry him, smiling at the feel of his son's movement stopping as he began to pet him.
The whole group was silent, unable to believe that the youngest of their team had such a well-kept secret.
A wife and two children! How was it possible that even Emily hadn't known about this?
"Spencer…w-what is this? When did you intend to tell us? About your wife, about your children, about-about this!" Emily waved her hands around trying to take in the situation, feeling the pieces of the puzzle coming together on their own.
"I thought Hotch was going to tell you before he left." Spencer looked at the group of people, stopping his gaze on his wife who lifts her shoulders, trying to tell him "don't even look at me, I didn't say anything."
"Clearly he didn't say it" Jennifer looked at her best friend, trying to look as relaxed as possible, but it was impossible, I guess no one was trying to "act cool" at that moment.
"Well, I guess it's time to introduce you to my family." Amanda smiled, leaning against one of the desks as she watched Alex approach her. "This is Amanda, Amanda Reid, my wife" The young woman waved her hand, crossing her arms again with a smile on her mouth. She loved that he said my wife. "This is Alexander Reid and Oliver Reid, Alex and Oli of affection." Little Alex smiled, again waving to everyone with his hand and took what was left of the donut his mother offered him.
"How long have you been married?" Next to speak was Rossi, who felt Hotch had betrayed him by keeping that secret so long.
"Well, married… we've been married for five years. Dating we've been dating for seven…" Amanda turned to look at her husband.
"Seven years, five months and thirteen days." Spencer nodded, looking down at the baby who had just fallen asleep in his arms.
"So…" Matt looked over at Alexander, who looked amused eating the sprinkles on top of the donut.
"Yeah, Alex was a surprise. We knew we wanted to be parents, but we wanted to live together first, and well… The first night of living together caused Alex's arrival." Amanda laughed with her cheeks flushed, noticing how Spencer's cheeks were also filled with that crimson red. "Oli arrived after a couple of tries. We didn't want Alex to be alone and have to read all the books to himself."
"Now he reads Oli to sleep, like the good big brother he is" Spencer smiled, placing little Oliver in the most comfortable place to sleep.
After that confession, the pair settled in at the desk where the woman was sitting.
"I have so many questions I can't process, I really don't understand. So…how come we didn't see this in your apartment when you went to jail? We'd be completely blind if we hadn't noticed." Penelope had gotten to a good point, causing the friends to nod and the pair looked at each other before they could respond.
"It's because you guys went to Spence's old apartment." Amanda replied. "When we had Alex, we outgrew the apartment. We tried to look at an apartment in the same building, but they were all the same, so we pooled our paychecks and managed to rent a slightly larger apartment down the street from there. After Oliver came along we had to move to a bigger place." Spencer nodded, wiping the corner of his son's lip, which was full of chocolate. "But when Spence needs to focus, he goes to his old apartment to work. Diana was living there for a season and then she came to our house." The young woman pushed her hair back, feeling her husband's warm hand wrap around her hip.
The group was attentive to what they were saying, nodding at every word and concentrating on the story they had for them. Like little children, they formed around the young couple to follow their narrative.
"When Mexico and jail happened, it was really an ordeal. Hotch called us to get into the program with him and Jack, we had to go into hiding because we were Spencer's immediate family. Before Diana could hide she was kidnapped and, well, you know the rest of the story." Amanda's hand went to her son's hair, playing with the unruly locks of the scalp. They were exactly the same as his father's.
"But we would have known, I would have figured it out! H-how did you…?" Penelope was utterly convinced she would have found that information.
"It wasn't in the system." Spencer admitted. "I begged Hotch not to release it, it's manually, on paper. But online it's not, it was more likely to endanger my family." The young couple looked at each other and gave each other a smile. Sighing, Spencer continued. "Something like Foyet and Hotch would have happened, it was too dangerous. I wasn't willing to lose them and place them in danger."
Finally, the group of people began to understand, nodding at what he was saying and relaxing after that news.
"Spence had intended to tell them, but after Cat Adams, Scratch, Mexico, jail, Diana… I don't know when the time was right, to be honest with you." A collective chuckle filled the room echoing at that moment.
"Wow Spencer, you sure had this secret well hidden." Luke smiled, patting the younger man on the back, who was grinning broadly after breaking free of that secret that had him gnawing inside.
"Well, it's never too late to throw a welcome home party for the new family." Rossi smiled, moving closer to Amanda so he could hug her.
Mandi smiled receiving greetings from everyone, feeling like she was home.
"Good, then I'll start buying presents from now on. For both Oliver and Alex." Penelope smiled, receiving a wide smile from Alexander, who was the most excited to receive gifts. "I've missed so many birthdays and Christmases already."
"So…" Alex stole glances at everyone, who looked quite intrigued by his words. "Can I tell you aunties and uncles?"
That was the straw that broke the excitement level in the entire group, causing everyone to nod and smile broadly, feeling their chest heaving with joy.
"Did you see, Alex? Now you have lots of aunts and uncles to share, plus cousins." Spencer fell into step with his son, who was hugging him by the neck with a smile.
"That's right daddy, lots and lots!" The little boy turned to look at them all before stretching his arms out to hang around Luke's neck, who was greeting him with a smile that went so far as to make his cheeks ache.
The entire group stayed talking for a couple more minutes before deciding to head home to relax after a full day full of excitement.
Before she could get on the elevator, Emily smiled in the direction of the group of people.
"I think we know who his daddy is." Tara's whisper caused Emily to laugh and step onto the elevator, letting the doors close and signal the end of the work day.
The day had closed on a high note, not only for the capture of a criminal, but also for the discovery of a new family.
And Spencer couldn't be happier to finally reunite their families.
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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
kissesssss, bai. 💕
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goldessia · 20 days
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RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader
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sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.
warnings. smut, mdni! power imbalance (implied), slight degration, risky / quickie, scandal, sort of slowburn, reader had a small quirk (can manipulate small doses of water), intoxication, smut in later parts.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)
a/n. ty to @cafekitsune for the borders / dividers!
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“YOU do know the risks, right?” my room-mate, mina, says, “i mean, i went to school with bakugo. he’s not a very.. nice person, and publicly placing yourself as his assistant could make you a target.”
i nod. “i know that.” i say, stuffing some things into my purse, “but i need this job. i love you, mina, but right now we kind of need the extra income. we’re not getting much with your job.”
she groans in frustration, “i know! but, all the villains lately just aren’t compatible with my quirk, so i’ve been leaving it to the others..” she sighs, rubbing her face.
“yeah, i know.” i say, slinging my purse over my shoulder, “it’ll just be temporary until you get back on your roll.”
“more like temporary because dynamight’ll kill you before that.” she snorts.
picking up my keys, i scoff, “i’m sure he’s not that bad. maybe he’s just a stressed out person!”
“sure. just come home in one piece, alright?” she chuckles, taking a sip of her cold coffee.
i roll my eyes and step out the door, finding my car and opening my phone for the directions to the agency.
the agency was easy enough to find — right in the middle of town with a sign in bright, orange colours: “the dynamight agency”.
i guess when you’re the #1 hero you don’t have to be scared to be found. in fact, looking at the giant building, i suspect he wants to be found; to be challenged, and to show them why he has the title of number one hero.
..and i also suspect this guy needs a serious ego check.
but i couldn’t lie and say i didn’t feel nervous. anxiety rushed through me, daring to glue me to this spot and not enter the building.
despite this, i walk through the front doors accidentally pushing a pull door and make my way to the front-desk where a pretty woman sits with two body guards beside her.
“hi,” i whisper, “i’m uh, here for the interview.. for the assistant?”
“oh! yes, you’re right on time.” she smiles, clicking a few buttons on her keyboard, “you’ll have to take the elevator up to the fiftieth floor, and in room A3.
“you’ll find a few of dynamight’s personnel as well as himself. he insisted on being there.. considering if you’re accepted you’ll be seeing a lot of eachother for a long while.”
my heart skips a beat.
“dynamight’s.. gonna be there?” i say, my eyes widening.
the lady hums, nodding her head like it was something normal to sit and have a talk with the number one hero.
i gulp, but mutter a, “thank you,” walking toward the elevators while clutching my purse with clammy hands.
pressing the button to the fiftieth floor, i feel anxiety rush through me. who was i thinking, applying for this job? i can’t handle being the assistant to dynamight!
i groaned, slapping my forehead as the reality finally set in.
i should’ve just listened to mina, and applied for some desk job or something. i figured, why not go above and beyond?
i’m so stupid!
ding!
the elevator doors open, and about a gazillion people rush into the elevator muttering nonsense to eachother or into their phones. majority held a briefcase — some are just holding loose papers, clutching onto them like their life depends on it.
i’m suddenly pushed to the back, and i try to mutter a few “excuse me”s, but to no avail — none of them could hear me, too zoned out in their own realities to care.
i was trapped.
suddenly i hear an explosion. a minor one, but undeniable.
my heart skips out of my chest. was there a villian? i’m in an elevator with fifteen people! i’m so dead. what was i thinking?!
“WHERE IS THAT DAMN ASSISTANT?” a voice screams, becoming louder by the second. “she’s late!”
“i’m sorry, dynamight, but it’s only been two minut-“
“SHUT UP! i didn’t ask you.” dynamight’s voice is now clearly in-front of us.
and then, i see him.
he’s tall, menacing — still in his hero costume that i recognize seeing on television when i was a teenager, just a little changed up.
the look on his face was undeniable. red, hot anger spilled from his aura as his eyes scanned the group of frightened workers, all frozen in place and have halted their calls and conversations.
i feel myself freeze when his eyes glaze over me, before halting. his eyes narrow, before he lifts a hand and points.
“you.” he says. “‘cmere, will ya?”
everyone’s eyes flick to me. i gulp, before nodding and slowly trying to make my way through the crowd.
“well, move out her damn way then!” dynamight hisses, and suddenly i see a path in front of me where there used to be people.
i take a deep breath, and with newfound confidence i walk forward, never breaking my eyes from his as i find myself beside him.
he snorts.
turning on his heel, he begins walking. hesitantly, i start walking beside him. he gives me a quick glare, expecting me to dip behind him but i don’t.
like i said before: he needs an ego check, and this is it.
he scoffs. “so, you’re my new assistant, or whatever?” he says, looking ahead again.
“well, i haven’t done the interview yet. so, maybe?” i say, masking my nervousness by remaining cold still except for my legs that are struggling to keep up with the hero’s pace.
he tuts. “fuck that. you’re hired, from here on out.”
then, he stops. he stands in-front of me, and it suddenly hits me how much taller he is, as he towers over me quite easily.
“which means you’ll do as i say when i say it. you work seven days a week, doing all my boring work i don’t want to do. got it?”
“seven?” my brows furrowed, “the agency said five—“
“yeah, well i say seven.” he spits, before pushing open a door. “this is your office. i’m across the hall.
“you’ll come when i call you. you’ll be dealing with all of my publicity shit as well.”
i shift on my feet. “yes, uh… sir?” i test, cringing at my own words.
his brows furrow, and his chin tips up. “good.” he says, before turning on his heel, “my manager will send you a list of things to do. get working on it.”
with that, he walks away.
my first interaction with my new boss, dynamight, couldn’t have gone any worse.
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after the first few weeks, i was spent. i’d never run around so much and dealt with such work since my first year in college.
after a long day in the office, dealing with one of dynamight’s scandals—he had hooked up with another pro hero—i finally was able to go home. it was 5:30, which meant i was already in overtime.
packing up my stuff, i push open the glass door that is my office. music played through my earphones, just a simple playlist that consisted of my favourite songs i grew up on.
“y/n.”
i hum along to the tune, scrolling on my phone as i walked toward the elevator.
“y/n?”
a notification popped up; mina had texted me asking to swing by a grocery store to pick up something for dinner.
as i begun typing a reply, i was quickly stopped when i felt a hand roughly grab my shoulder and turn me around.
my heart stops in my chest as dynamight glares over me, before ripping out my earphone and scoffing.
“i called you fifty times. next time, you’ll listen, alright?” he spits.
“you were— huh?” my brows furrow.
“fuck, are you deaf, or something?!” he stops himself, rubbing his eyes before inhaling a deep breath, “a word. in my office.”
he starts walking to his office, before i speak. “sir, i— i’m already in overtime as it is. respectfully, with your recent.. scandal, i haven’t gotten much time to rest. this is my one time to.”
his steps slowly halt. he turns, glaring with those ruby eyes straight into my soul.
“in my office, y/n. now.” he seethes, “the amount of rest you get isn’t my concern.”
maybe i would’ve gotten more rest if you learned to just keep it in your pants, i think but i do not say.
“you got a problem with my orders?” he stares, testing me, trying to provoke me.
i stare back. with a sharp inhale, i mutter a—“no, sir.” while beginning on my already aching feet.
i hear another notification on my phone.
mina
girl, where are you!! foods gonna get cold
taking a quick look to dynamight, i try to quickly type back.
me
i know, sorry, will be there shortly
mr. explosion murder is mad at me 😬
mina
oh damn
praying 4 u girl
“texting your boyfriend?” dynamight scoffs, to which i quickly put my phone away.
“oh uh— no, sir.” i clear my throat.
he looks ahead and murmurs a, “good.”
“what?”
he opens the door to his office with such force i jump, the door nearly grazing my nose. he stands in-front of it, gesturing for me to enter.
when he does, he closes the door behind him.
i try to mask my nervousness, but it’s nearly impossible—who wouldn’t be nervous to be alone in a room with dynamight?
“what’d you want to talk to me about, sir?” i ask, fixing the glasses on my nose— just a small prescription, mostly for looks since i thought they were cute.
he stalks toward the chair tucked neatly into the desk in the middle of the room. sitting on it, he gestures for me to sit as well.
hesitantly, i do, folding my hands neatly in my lap.
“the board wanted me to discuss something with you,” dynamight states, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on his open thighs.
oh gods. what is so big that the board wanted dynamight himself to talk to me alone about? was i being fired? was my work not good enough? was —
“your clothing.” he states, “you need to dress more formally.” he looks me over, eyes gesturing to the jeans and tank-top i had on.
i blink. “you.. you pulled me in here just to talk about what i wear?”
he runs a hand over his chin, inhaling. he has a slight stubble along his jaw and neck; the result of overworking himself the past few days.
lately, i’ve noticed a spike in his working hours, working longer than he usually does and longer than he needs to.
the biggest question is: why do i feel like i need to care for dynamight?
“not necessarily.” he states, leaning forward, “i’m going across tokyo for a mission. i want you to come with me.”
“what?” my brows furrow, “why?”
he sighs, “because.. i haven’t been out outside of work since my scandal, let alone talked to the press. i need you there to handle that shit for me so i can do my job.”
i ponder with his words, “..okay. well, i’d have to check with—“
“it’s not a question. it’s your job,” dynamight’s voice suddenly turns harsh, “we’re leaving tomorrow morning. i’ll pick you up by seven.”
“but you don’t know where i—“
“i know where you live.” he says, standing, peering me over when he sees i’m confused, “it’s in your work file.” he adds.
“oh. right.” i sigh in relief, thankful he wasn’t some stalker who found out where i lived by following me home.
wait, why would he even do that in the first place? whatever..
the door opens, and i turn to see dynamight standing irritably beside it. catching up on context clues, i grab my things and rush out the room.
that is, before i’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder. he leans closer, glaring ahead of him. i can feel the heat emitting from his hand, his body, and i freeze beneath his aura.
“and y/n?” he says, “if you’re going to wear that shirt.. wear a fucking bra next time.” he seethes.
practically pushing me out the room, i feel the door slam behind me.
i feel my face flush as i peer down to my shirt — i thought i could get away without wearing one today but i guess i was wrong.
fuck. how embarrassing was that?!
mina:
u alive?
me:
FML!!!
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after i had gotten home, i told mina everything. needless to say, she was shocked — “seriously? travelling across the country with bakugo?”
“yeah. and for a week!”
“oh, you’re so done for.” she snorts, “i could barely handle a few hours with that kid back in highschool, let alone be with him all day long.”
i sigh, taking a sip of my water, placing it on the counter as i jump up to sit on it.
“he’s not.. that bad.” i cringe at my own words, “just a little misunderstood.”
“oh, please.”
“serious!” i cry, taking a bite of my donut, “i mean, he is an asshole, but working alongside him isn’t so bad.
“plus, majority of time he’ll just be ripping up some villains. all i get is some sweet vacation.” i shrug.
mina spares me a look, “are you sure you don’t have some sort of crush on him, or something?”
i gasp. a harsh blush finds my cheeks, and i want to crumble in on myself. “what? no!” my voice cracks as i am quick to defend myself.
she snorts. “you’re only ever like this when you have a crush!”
“am not.” i say, hiding my face from her.
“you’re blushinggg..” she teases, “you so have a crush on him!
groaning, i jump off the counter and make my way to the couch instead of the kitchen.
“don’t try and hide it!” mina calls from the kitchen. i roll my eyes and ignore her, flicking on the television.
the news was on.
the lady on the screen speaks, “number one hero, dynamight, was seen only two days ago with a top-ten hero. rumours have speculated about the two — are they dating, or was it just a fling? here’s what we think…”
i groan. another mention of this stupid scandal was gonna make my head explode.
the press didn’t know who it was he had slept with, but i did — it was double trouble, a hero with a doubled voice quirk that could control others bodies.
i always thought she was cool. standing at fourth place, she was a well known pro-hero in the area.
and also known to be happily married with two kids.
so why, on earth, did dynamight have to sleep with her? he had to be stupid to, she was pretty, but he really needed to get better with his publicity skills.
being the cause of an affair wasn’t getting better at it.
and if any information got out of it being double trouble, he’d not only have ruined his reputation but ruined double troubles life.
so, i spent the last week making sure every last bit of this scandal was wrapped up and sealed away. everything on the internet, security cameras, was wiped out of the world.
turning on one of my favourite shows, i set down my phone and get comfortable on the couch.
finally, i could relax.
and slowly, but surely, i fall into a slumber.
..
nearly an hour later, i hear a knock at the door. i groan, annoyed my sleep was disrupted and even more annoyed someone decided to knock on my door at midnight.
“can’t i just get one night of peace?” i mumble to myself as i push myself off the couch, fixing the tank-top strap on my shoulder.
walking to the door, i run a hand through my hair to attempt to tame the wild mess caused by sleep.
i open it, the door creaking as i did, peeking my head out the door. and…
i see no other thank katsuki bakugo, better known as dynamight.
he’s clutching the side of his torso, clutching the doorframe as he attempts to keep himself up.
he looks up, cheeks flushed, wearing casual wear — well, casual until you see the giant blood stain ruining his white tee shirt.
“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”
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harry-styles-obsessed · 2 months
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Wet dream
The title says it all! Aha…—
Reader has a wet dream and gets caught by her boyfriend of four years, Harry.
Tw’s: degradation, smutty stuff… very smutty.. oral. Male receiving. Fingering. Please also note this is my first time writing this kind of smut so please be kind.
©️ please do not copy or translate my work.
“That’s right” his voice was low and slow, his hand slowly grabbing a fistful of your hair until his fingers had grabbed your hair into a makeshift pony tail “get on your knees” his voice was dominant and demanding it made you feel all tingly… you couldn’t help it. Fuck he was so beautiful. You slowly lowered yourself down onto your knees gazing up at your boyfriend his body glistening— chest raising and falling slowly and carefully as he examined you gazing up at him through your eyelashes “fuck. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck your mouth.” His voice was hungry his eyes saying it all, yet you couldn’t help it a whimper leaving your mouth “please.” His green eyes grew impossibly darker and he tilted his head down at you, a smirk tugging upon his lips “oh you want that hm? You want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours? Yeah? Man handle you? Tell you what the fuck to do? Tell you that you’re mine” his grip tightened on your hair as another whimper passed your lips— that’s exactly what you wanted. “Naughty girl” a low chuckle left his lips as he smirked “y/n..” he spoke yet his lips didn’t move “y/n..” again but still his lips didn’t move he was just smirking at you grip on your hair tightening…
“Y/n!”
Your eyes snapped open finding Harry stood next to the bed— brow quirked in concern. “Y/n?” He questioned again staring at you noticing how dazed you were. “You alright y/n? You were whimpering in your sleep?” That was a dream? Your eyes widened ever so slightly your lips parting as your cheeks which were already red heated up some more “w—what?” Your voice cracked slightly as you stared at him. You hadn’t ever had a wet dream whilst he was close by. Sure a few when he was on tour but not when he was literally at arms length… it felt embarrassing but you couldn’t help what your brain made up. His eyes searched your face, you begging- praying he didn’t notice the way you breathed, the slight layer of sweat on your forehead the tingling in between your thighs… “oh I know that look” his words grabbed your attention and you looked at him with wide eyes “what look?” You asked worriedly “oh sweetheart..” he smirked not answering your question “y/n did you have a dream? About me?” Your breath hitched slightly and he knew he had hit the nail on the head a low chuckle leaving his lips “I— I don’t know what you’re laughing about Harry I didn’t have a dream about you…” your cheeks remained red hot as he smirked at you “y/n, my love, I think you forget how in tune I am with you… your body language…” the bed creaked slightly as he sat down beside you— hands slowly touching against your hip fingers tracing up and down your side as he felt the way you shuddered, a small mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you denied it once again, eyes slowly meeting with his and he smirked gazing into your eyes,
“So you’re telling me if I…” he slowly leaned in, lips touching against the sweet spot on your neck as you whimpered another shudder ripping throughout you “did just that. You wouldn’t react?” A low chuckle left his lips the chuckle ripping straight throughout out like the chuckle you heard in your dream a shaky breath leaving your lips “tell me… what was the dream about?” He murmured to you softly lips remaining against your ear as he pulled you in between his legs sat just between thighs as his fingers strummed lightly against your stomach. You wore one of Harry’s T-shirts that came down to the middle of your thigh, that smelt just like him… maybe that’s why you had a dream about him… his voice continued murmuring sweet words to you before his fingers suddenly brushed against the front of your panties— your breath hitching again as your body suddenly jerked “ahh… still no dream hm?” He let out a low chuckle as he smirked “no..” you shuddered out and he chuckled “keep denying it baby…. Go on…..” his fingers slid past your panties stroking up and down your slit your back arching off of his chest at the touch you craved so desperately…. “So wet” he murmured lewdly into your ear a whine leaving your lips “did you touch yourself?” You shook your head slightly “then why, my sweet girl are you so fucking wet?” The way he spoke to you drove you utterly insane… you didn’t know what to do… you couldn’t control it.
“I had a dream.. a naughty dream” you whined out feeling Harry’s pointer finger circle against your clit continuously your body attempting to move away from his finger yet attempting to grind against it trying to get more friction. “Told you I knew you…” he murmured to you softly listening to your sweet moans and whines as he continued teasing against your clit “are you hiding some fantasies from me? Some desires?” He chuckled out your breathing heavy and desperate bad your hips rolled pathetically against his hand “mhm..” “yeah? Tell me about them baby” his hand continued working against you making your hips jerk desperately his lips kissing and sucking against your neck as he toyed with you “fucked my mouth…” those words practically bounced off of each wall in the room crashing straight back into Harry making his cock twitch in his jeans… holy shit you were a dirty fucking girl. “Oh I see..” he chuckled out lowly continuing to nibble against your neck “you want me to take control of your body, yeah? Tell you what to do? Drive you crazy like you drive me crazy?” He murmured into your ear smirking “let’s call it a little bit of revenge hm? You leaving early in the morning every day for work not being here to satisfy me… oh baby… how the tables have turned… you need me to fuck your mouth? Use you?” He growled out the lewdness and filthy words that left his mouth made you feel weak…. You liked degradation sure but this was the perfect amount that you needed. That he was giving to you in the best way possible.
“You want that?” You nodded your head desperately and he smirked “verbal sweetheart.” “Yes.. harry… please… fuck my mouth. Control me.”
That was all he needed to hear as he practically stood you up off of the bed, dragging you almost as he forced you down onto your knees— hand gripping onto your hair tightly as he forced you to look up at him “keep your eyes on me at all times. I want to see your eyes water.” You nodded desperately your lips parted as he smirked down at you before he began removing his belt, tossing it down on the ground. Your eyes watched his skilful ring covered hands expose himself before his large hand grasped onto your throat “eyes up here baby. Look at me.” You kept your eyes on him his grip on your throat gentle but firm enough to let you know he was in control. Soon enough your mouth was full, Harry’s hand gripping at your hair as he fucked in and out of your mouth— your moans and whines echoing around the room, groans of pleasure leaving Harry’s lips as he had to constantly try to keep his head from being thrown backwards, wanting to see how good he was making you feel. “You like this hm? Being dominated yeah?” He let out a low chuckle, continuing to toss lewd words your way “play with yourself whilst I fuck your mouth. Go on. Make yourself cum as I fuck your pretty fucking mouth.” He demanded, your hand instantly as if pulled by a puppeteer snuck in between your thighs as you began playing with yourself— fingering your self desperately imagining it was him touching you your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continued to fuck your mouth, groans of pleasure continuously leaving his mouth which drove you insane. Soon he had pulled from your mouth- watching you pant, a mess on the floor his eyes searching your face almost worried he had gone too hard on you but as you let out a small laugh, satisfaction on your face he smirked slightly “oh who knew you could be so naughty, y/n.” He chuckled lightly before he crouched down in front of you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek lightly “you’ve got one more in you haven’t you?” His words were soft as you studied him through hazy vision “for me?” He studied you carefully as you nodded before he carefully helped you stand your legs trembling slightly his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, your arms around his neck as he walked you to your bed— laying you down so your hips were over the edge…
“Remember what I said baby. Eyes on me.”
He spoke simply kneeling down in front of you— hands grasping onto your thighs keeping them spread as he slowly lowered himself down to your heat, green eyes remaining locked with yours knowing you were a mess in his hands, he had you wrapped around his finger… but you had him wrapped around your finger just as much. You were both fools for each other… fools in love.
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