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#i just want to own my own house but everything is too expensive
darkacey · 1 year
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Lesson learned — don’t get an apartment that says no pets and expect your landlord to be reasonable when she allows an ESA as an exception.
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#im still looking for a job#i got offered an interview for one but they were weirdly pushy about how soon they wanted to do the interview#and their part time pay is 13/hr and part time hours is under 30/week#which is kinda ridiculous to me. the ad said 15/hr but thats apparently just for full time but i dont like that full time starts at 30#anyway. there were just a few things off about it and i didn't feel like i had time to prepare#and i am cautious of companies being super desperate to hire#so i pretty much decided i wasn't gonna do it#and i told my mom#and she was like well 13/hr is better than nothing#and i said yeah but im trying to make real adult money. im trying to move out within a year. i can't do that on 13/hr#and she went well maybe im crazy that im happy with my 15/hr job#and im like. literally thats what im asking for is 15/hr. also. my father works too her job is not supporting the family or even herself#and she thinks im dramatic about how hard and expensive it is to get a house#i think shes stuck in the 90s. bc shes only bought a house once and it was in the 90s.#and it was under 100k#we live in a very expensive area and i realized a while ago that its just not possible for me to move out on my own around here#which she thinks is dramatic#and even still like. my goal is to move somewhere else (cheaper) and live rent free with my friends for a bit first#but i still need the money to get there and get my stuff there and be able to pay for my phone and car and everything#it's a lot!! and i dont wanna get myself in a bad situation just bc i want some amount of money#i said id rather find out later that i was being pessimistic than be naive now and screw myself#bc thats what she thinks it is she thinks im just too negative about it#well. i think shes extremely naive about it.#its frustrating#bc now im worrying i made the wrong choice about the interview (and i know doing an interview doesn't mean i would get or take the job but.#still. its was super rushed and i dont think id take it anyway. i just got bad vibes.)#but now im all worried about it and im like omg im never gonna find a job ever at all
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captainchokchok · 7 months
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Literally can not stand my fucking apartment complex I can't wait to fucking move out
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anastasiabowe · 4 months
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𝘾𝙃𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂! — Your husbands who just can’t say no to your cute little face, but sometimes that comes with a cost you will have to pay.
note: This one came to me in a DREAM. I want a man like this, so why not make my man like this?🤷🏽‍♀️
Content warnings: overstim, piv, punishment, rich husband, spanking, tough love, swearing, anything else 17+
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★ — 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜
Nanami loved when you were happy. It wasn’t even a happy wife happy life situation, it was a I love seeing her smile situation. He never denied you of any expensive item you wanted. I mean how could he say no to you? He watched as you practically skipped around the mall with his black card, showcasing it if anyone who glanced at you.
He smirked seeing you happy, but yet he felt a little disappointed by your lack of self control. He knew what he was getting into when he pulled out that million dollar ring. His strong arms were lined with black bags and name brands, your hands only holding his card and one small bag. He didn’t mind though, as long as you were happy!
But don’t think he lets you get away with everything! If you have an attitude after this shopping spree, which you do, he will punish you, and that’s because he loves you! It was an agreement, if you can spend his cash, he can use you, or what he likes to say, “enjoy you.”
“Nanamin!” You whined as your new set of black nails tried to push his stomach away.
“Yes?” His deep, yet professional voice oh so casually responded, despite his deep thrusts.
“P-please slow down! I can’t t-take it!” He chuckled at you, you were too cute to ignore, but this is what you deserve! You spent thousands of dollars today, and when he simply asked “are you almost done?” You give an attitude? Oh no, no, no. You weren’t going to get away with that.
“I’m sorry baby, just wanna show you who’s paying for everything you bought today. Just wanna show you who you were giving an attitude to.” He started to speed up, and you cried from the amount of orgasms you’ve had.
“Just one more, then you can have a break.” He kissed your head, and readjusted his position, you both know it won’t be one more.
★ — 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜
Toji hated when you spent his money. And what I mean by hate, I mean he will hand you his card and regret it later. You’re actually a modest shopper. You have a bit of an expensive taste, but you have respect for Toji enough to not go crazy. But when Toji had handed you his card at the mall and gave you and said something back handed, you went a little wild.
You bought new heels, expensive jeans, expensive make up, expensive bags. You swiped his card until your hand had a rectangular shape from how hard you gripped it while you tapped it to the card reader.
When Toji later that night checked all of the receipts (which you purposely got so he could see how mad you were) he nearly blew a fuse. $10,000 worth of items you bought. Even though that is nearly nothing compared to how much is in his bank account, it was the principle of it.
“I give you my fucking card only for you to use it like a fucking piece of plastic.” His hand smacked your left ass cheek, making you dig your nails into his thigh.
“I-I’m sorry!” You cried. He rubbed his hand over the deep red mark, and tsked.
“I bet you are.” He landed two more hits to your left and right cheek. You let out a whimper and he ripped both of your cheeks again.
“$10,000, y/n. What were you shopping for, a house?” He chuckled at his own joke, but you didn’t find this funny. He landed another smack. “What made you think that was ok?”
You sniffled from crying and the rage you felt earlier burned through your body again. “Maybe if you didn’t call me a gold digger, yo I wouldn’t be $10,000 poorer!”
The word “poor” irked something in him he hasn’t felt in a while. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up.
“I’d watch your fucking mouth, I’m the one who fucking pays for your shit.” He spat, you frown, and your bottom lip slowly popped out. He knew what you were doing, but it wasn’t going to work.
“Nah, don’t pull that shit.” He smirked, but the longer he looked at your face the more guilty he felt.
“Y/n.” He warned. You continued to look at him with that face, and he sighed. “You spoiled brat.” He let go of your hair, and moved you to straddle him.
“Just don’t be spending my money all crazy ‘n shit.” You nodded, and he rolled his eyes.
You always fucking win.
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phantomrose96 · 1 year
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I've mentioned this thing in tags before but I've decided fuck it, it should be its own post.
I've seen this sentiment lumped into Eat the Rich posts which goes like "if you're worth more than $1 million I think you should die" and I think tumblr users need to know this is not the Eat the Rich statement they think it is.
Someone being worth $1 million doesn't mean what you think it means.
A 71-year-old widow who bought a single-family 2,000 sqft home in Somerville Massachusetts with her husband 40 years ago to raise their family in, who now lives in this home all alone because her children are grown and her husband is dead, is--without a shadow of a doubt--worth more than $1 million. Maybe even $1.5 or $2 million. And it's because of her home equity, because that's what single family homes go for these days in that area.
The 71-year-old widow may be living pension check to pension check, because her millionaire status can only be dipped into if she's removed from her home and sells it. And if it's the home she's loved for 40 years, where she simply wants to live out the rest of her time peacefully in, I wouldn't put her to the guillotine for that.
Maybe that comes off as an extreme example, like that's just an outlier of the "we hate millionaires" agenda. But I don't think it truly is. I'll scale back and tell you the median U.S. home price right now is about $430,000. And that's just median. Half of them are more expensive than that.
The statement "I think people should be able to afford to buy and own the homes they live in" is, I would desperately hope, not a radical statement to anyone on Tumblr. I think that's a pretty well-received idea. So someone who's done that, who's bought their home and worked many years to pay off the mortgage and now owns it fully, is worth close to half a million dollars on average. Many of them more than that, as many areas rapidly gentrify and drive up housing worth.
Statement 2: "I think people deserve to have a retirement fund which would comfortably support them through end of life." Too radical for anyone? I hope not. And I won't pretend to be an expert on how much retirement money is ideal. I'm sure it varies with cost of living in places. But considering this is money which, ideally, should support someone for the remaining 10-20 years of life (money which may be necessary to cover the absolutely crippling medical costs of end-of-life treatment) I'd bet it's well into the many hundreds of thousands. Even if someone was simply living off $30k/year of take home money and just making that work, then 15 years of retirement, costing $30k/year, plus maybe $50k+ of end-of-life medical costs... That's at least $500k.
Which is all to say, if you show me someone approaching retirement age who's "worth" $1 million dollars, my hope would be that their house is paid off and their retirement fund is comfortable. I'd be happy for them. I would want this for them.
Even that may not be true, though. Someone "worth" $1 million maybe owns a paid-off house which has rapidly appreciated to being worth $900k, and their $100k in retirement is something they're trying to stretch through end of life. Maybe someone worth $1 million owns a house which has ballooned to $1.1 million, and they're in fact $100k in debt.
And the fact that SO many Americans will never even meet this bar is significantly more appalling to me than the existence of people worth more than $1 million. "I own my home and can retire comfortably" is a bar we want every American to meet. I want more millionaires who are millionaires because they meet these criteria.
If Nana Somerville's house burns down tomorrow, she'll have lost everything. If a billionaire were to similarly lose $1 million of worth, he would not feel it. That's a fickle day at the stock market. That's Tuesday. That's the rich which desperately needs to be eaten.
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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months
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Happy new Year! I wanted to request an Reader with healing powers by touching,healing the boys of Mortal Kombat pls?
author note: Thanks! Happy new Year to you too!! As someone studying to become a doctor this request is a little to perfect LOL. feat. Earthrealm guys for my own sanity this time, but if you want you can also ask for Outworld ones.
Johnny Cage: -He doesn't believe in your powers AT ALL. -I'm not saying Johnny can't wait to hurt himself, because pain sucks, but he may get a bit careless… -He's gonna cut his finger with paper, the most stupid wound that sting like a bitch. -He visits you, you don't laugh at him, just touch his index with yours and…voilà! No wounds anymore. -He is stunned, mouth open. You absolutely need to come to Hollywood and let people pay, you know how rich you can get?? -Johnny will be attached to your hips, wounds or not. If he can't get you out your clinic he wants at least a date with the cute doctor.
Kenshi Takahashi: -He visited you after the Mileena accident. -Sadly you can't regrow new eyes, being able to heal just from tissue that is alive. -That doesn't mean you can't help him soothing his pain! Or decrease the itch he feels from the skin that grew there. -Kenshi visits you frequently, not just for medical reasons but also to share a cup of tea together, your chats a relaxing moment during frenzy times.
Raiden: -He doesn't visit you often, but when Raiden does he has a kind voice, even with broken bones and teared skin. -Luckily most of the time Raiden wounds aren't that serious, but he tends to prolong his stay in your clinic. -At times he felt asleep on the bed, heavy breath and some times snores. -He is so cute you never wake him up, but pulling a cover on his body to keep him warm and comfortable.
Kung Lao: -He has never been proud of the wounds and scar that he has, but at least now Lao can see the positive side of the bruises; visiting you. -You don't say he is dumb, and treats him with utmost care, your soft fingers on his skin make his heartrate speed up terribly. -Lao hopes you don't notice, hiding his real emotions under puns and flirty jokes. -You can totally feel Lao's heart, but find him cute, trying to sputter out puns to make you laugh, so you let him act.
Liu Kang: -He asked you to help at Wu Shi Academy because he knew about your powers. -Liu Kang made sure you had a tiny house of your own, separated from training grounds, but near enough to run to you in case of emergency. -He doesn't suffer of any injury, but he often visits you to ask if you are fine, just chit chatting about your days. -Every time Liu Kang visits you he brings a present, each time it gets more expensive. Maybe one day you'll pick up the signals, or maybe you could heal his broken courage; it has been awhile since Liu Kang asked someone out.
Geras: -He also doesn't need any kind of healing, but when someone is wounded he runs to you. -Most of the time you talk about work, you tried to pry informations about the you of other timelines but Geras never budges. -So you started to gossip with him, useless stuff, but you know he'll never tell the secrets out. -He listens to you, already knowing everything, but Geras enjoys your company so he sits still, your voice almost lulling him.
Bi-Han: -Doesn't trust you, he has never heard of healing magic. -But there you are, on your knees, him laying on the ground, your fingers repairing every cut, every wounds on his body with a mere touch. -Bi-Han starts to visit you more often, he wants to know your secret, the Lin Kuei's doctors could only improve with your guide. -You laugh at his proposal, telling him this is a gift you have since you were born and that you prefer your magic to be of everyone usage, not only his ninjas. -He scowls and exits your house. But Bi-Han won't give up, he'll convince you one day, he is sure of it.
Kuai Liang: -He doesn't have the time to have doubts about your powers because the first time Liang heard of you is the time you are healing him. -Now it is too late to heal his face scar, but for sure you can help him with his other wounds. -Liang begs you to join Shirai Ryu, but you refuse "You are good people, but my power is for everybody, not just your clan." -He accepts it…and trasfer Shirai Ryu base near your house, enough that if his men needs help you'll be right there. -And maybe Liang would be able to visit you not only for work matters…
Tomas Vrbada: -He visits you mostly because everybody is talking about your powers. -Tomas brings food, while you prepare a hot beverage for you two. You chat about your days, 'till Tomas finally asks you the question that has been wandering in his head for too long. -"So, are your powers real?" -You smirk into the cup, but don't reply. You take a knife and do a small cut on the back of your hand, you are so fast that Tomas cannot stop you. -He cannot also because the moment a drop of blood spill the wound has already healed itself. -Tomas is astonished, wide eyes. -"You are so damn cool." -You hope he'll visit you more often, you enjoys his company. Let's hope Tomas will never come for working matters, tho.
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trashmouth-richie · 1 year
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Eddie x Fem! Reader [vol ii]
Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.
W.C 3.8k
Trigger warning: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace 🖤 this will be a series 💋
{a/n} I probably should have added this when I originally posted it. But I’m a little dumb— anyway, this is my submission for @newlips ’s milestone of love hope you all enjoy it 💋 I truly enjoy writing and I wouldn’t be here without the support you all as readers/ fellow writers bring to me every single day! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart ♥️
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He wasn’t your first option for a roommate, in fact he was so far off your radar for a potential housemate, you damn near shrieked when you saw him. But when nobody had showed up besides him to view the small two bedroom house that you were forced to sublease after your roommate got married— you didn’t have a fucking choice. It was too expensive to run another ad in the Hawkins Post and summer was coming to a close. You were fucked.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” you snarl as you throw open the door to see his stupid grin. Always too toothy, too goddamn endearing. Made your stomach bind up. “No, no way.”
Standing in all his sadistic leather glory was Eddie fucking Munson. He’s taller than he used to be, still a long haired asshole, reeking of weed and cheap deodorant. What kind of sick twisted joke is this? Did you really piss off mother karma that bad that you have to live in a separate, more fucked up layer of hell? Fuck you Dante, and your inferno. There’s not a single other person in this town who needs somewhere to stay?!
He pushes his way into your home, leaning forward with a shit eating grin, eyes hooded and winking as your lips curl in disgust. “Nice to see you too sweetheart.” He taunted. Licking his lips as he stalked past you, his filthy work boots tracking dirt onto the carpet.
“Yuck — do not— call me that,” you hissed, you stand with your hand still on the knob, not fully committing to wanting to shut the door— praying that he was some sort of a hallucination.
“You gonna show me around, or should I raid your panty drawer while you sulk?” A dimple dips into his cheeks as his stupid grin grows wider on his face.
You slam the door with a thud, “kitchen, living room, my bedroom, the other bedroom, bathroom, garage, laundry in the basement.” You’re practically shouting, as you stomp around the small space, pointing to the direction of each room, taking a grand total of twenty seconds to point everything out, not giving a fat rats ass if he was following you or not. His laugh echoes off the walls, taunting you, making your skin crawl and your ears itch. You turn around to find him quick on your heels, your face almost smashing into his grease covered work shirt.
He doesn’t move, or make any attempt to step away from you, forcing you to put the space between you both, stepping back and smoothing down your hair. His eyes kill to yours, dark swirls of muddy browns searching your own, he asks, “Why do you get the bigger room?”
The fucking audacity of this man. You could wring his neck right now and nobody would even know.
“Excuse me?” You question, peering into his chocolate eyes, waving a finger in his face, “maybe because It’s my fucking house, you’re lucky if you’ll get a room at all.”
He leans his head back with a laugh, letting it slam forward as he deadpans, creeping forward and stepping around you, waiting til he’s behind you to whisper in your ear, “I’m lucky? That ad was in the paper for over a week,” he seethes, “I bet I’m the only one who showed up to view the place, so nice try, Tooty— but you’re desperate for the cash.” He wasn’t wrong, you were desperate, the salon paid okay but Josie just upped the price on your rental chair, making your mortgage almost impossible for you to pay on your own.
“…I’m doing you a favor. So, if you want me to pay rent and utilities, then I’ll, so graciously, be taking the bigger room.” His breath fans across the back of your neck, making the hairs stand up, and goosebumps riddle your skin. You turn to face him, hands on your hips trying to show how serious you are.
“I know it took you like four times longer to graduate than anyone in United States history, but you can’t possibly be this damn dumb.” It was a cheap shot and you know it, but who does he think he is? Barging in here with demands like a fucking A list celebrity. Not today, mother fucker.
A comment that would have normally made anyone else burst into tears, or at least leave hollering ‘bitch!’ as they stomped out to their car, only fuels Eddie’s perverted fire, “Ooo, an insult and a scolding, what’s next a spankin’?”
Your hard-ass facade drops, your face faltering to one of disgust instead of stern, don’t-fuck-with-me, boss lady, “Get out, Munson.”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” He saunters towards the kitchen table and pulls out his wallet, of course its a chain wallet, you roll your eyes as he starts forking over an impressive amount of bills and sets them down, one by one.
“Here’s my first month, last month and deposit.”
The total is way more than what you’d even told him but you're still tongue tied from his comments, he lives for this shit and you had fallen for it—rookie mistake.
“I’ll be back in a few hours to start moving stuff in.” He smiles widely, moving towards the door, “See you then, roomie.”
His figure haunts you for the next few hours you have left of peace. His smell lingers around the house, you shove open every window you can, including the one that was painted shut by the previous owners. He was so fucking annoying. Is that supposed to be charm he was throwing at you? Fucking barf. The only thing you were feeling was rage, and that you needed to shower after feeling his breath on your skin. Lighting every scented candle you can find, Sugar cookie and beach sands will do— the smell slowly wafts out of the windows. You shower quickly, figuring better do it now than after he arrives, the dreaded walk in a towel from the bathroom to your room was something you hadn’t thought of until this second. Hot water sprays against your skin, assaultingly hot, almost blistering the skin on your back.
You are seething, raging mad. If you were a cartoon, smoke would be funneling out of your ears. Mocking him, you think of better comebacks than you had thought up earlier. Scrubbing your skin until you resembled a lobster, and angrily scratching your scalp. “What’s next a spankin?” GOD he’s so nasty, the sheer nerve of him makes you want to throw a toaster into the shower with you. Nothing a few volts can’t fix. You towel off, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you wipe away the condensation. The stress of the day slowly melted off as it was rinsed down the drain.
You’re applying your eye cream when a—loud as fuck— knock on the door shakes the walls.
“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie hollers as you peek through the glass. He’s carrying a duffle bag and a 30 pack of Busch Light. 3 smiling idiots are behind him, two passing a joint back and forth while balancing a very worn mattress, the other swaying on the sidewalk holding a guitar, most likely already drunk.
Tucking the tail end of the towel wrapped around your head into itself, you fling open the door, “Jesus Christ Eddie, will you shut up! I have neighbors you know!”
“Oooo— first fight!” One of the idiots with shaggy blonde hair preens.
Your glare could compete with lasers against his skin, prying through his epidermis and burning the vessels.
Eddie lets out a laugh, “aww sweetheart, I didn’t know you were planning a slumber party!” he says gesturing to your towel and pink robe. “Give me about 30 minutes and I’ll be braiding your hair and you can paint my nails, give me all the hot gossip!”
You turn with a huff half closing the door behind you. The gaggle of idiots roaring with laughter at Eddie’s joke.
He pushes through the door into the house, tossing his bag onto the table, knocking over the napkin holder and the stack of mail, letting out a loud sigh. He rips the thirty pack open on the side, making the beers crash to the floor. You still your eyes and cross your arms, unamused by his stupid antics. He cracks one open, slurping up the spray of suds as it puddles around his hand and down onto the carpet. He kicks a beer towards you and raises his up in triumph. “Here’s to you roomie, Home Sweet Home!”
You’re so fucked.
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“Robin, I’m seriously going to kill him. I don’t care if I have to go to jail—anything would be better than this!” you whisper-yell into the phone, you watched Eddie and his band of misfits bring in box after box, most of his stuff was in black plastic garbage bags. They formed a line throwing the bags to one another and the last one haphazardly tossing them into his room.
“Oh relax! A hunk like him moving in and you don’t even have to pay him? You just hit the jackpot!” She giggles on the other end of the phone, smacking through her licorice.
“More like jackass with all the shit he’s moving in.”
You’re hunkered in your room, between the wall and your bed, twirling your bedroom phone cord through your fingers, “Seriously the place smells like weed so bad I’m probably getting a contact high as we speak.”
Robin lets out a throaty laugh, “Might do you some good, you’re so fucking tense all the time.”
“Sorry—” you say, twiddling the blue carpet fibers through your fingers, “I’m just stressed after Nancy moved out is all.” It wasn’t a lie, Nancy moving in was a huge relief to you, she took care of almost everything. Organizing bills, scheduling pest control when needed, she even wrote the garbage pick up days and hung it on the garage door. With her gone, this all falls on you. “What if he steals my stuff in the middle of the night and bails?”
She curses your full name, “He may be a lot of things, but a thief is not one of them—seriously you have nothing to worry about, calm your boobies!”
“Boobies!” Steve yells, joining the room Robin was in, “it’s Eddie, he’s a total nerd, you’ll be fine.”
“If he’s so great Then you can live with him Steve!”
“Nope, no can do,” he says around a mouthful of food,
“I gotta keep this clumsy oaf on a short chain”
“Oh, you’re dead Harrington.” The phone drops and all you hear is squealing and thudding of feet running around.
“Robin! Not my shampoo! ”
“Steve? Robin?” You wait in silence as the line goes dead, “Uhh!” Slamming the phone into the receiver you hear Eddie and his leather clad Barbarians holler goodbye to one another. One too many “see ya later man” ’s and you’re practically puking. You open the door to your room and poke your head out. Watching closely as Eddie tears through garbage bags, unloading heaps and heaps of clothing, an entire bag dedicated to just band shirts, another revealed bedding that was quite literally rolled up and thrown into the bag. A quick sniff test has him turning up his nose.
The kitchen is taken over by Eddie’s stuff, more bags, more boxes, a cookbook titled: The Dungeonmeister Cookbook is sitting on the stove. A stack of Burger King collectible Disney cups is cluttered around the microwave. Along with an impressive amount of neon twisty straws and a bowl with a straw connected to drink the milk.
It’s like a small child moved into your home instead of a grown ass man.
Opening the fridge to get an apple, you can’t help but notice Eddie also moved some refrigerator items with him as well. Two big bottles of hot sauce, more beer than the local bar probably holds, a half drank carton of orange juice, and a giant jar of pickles, without a lid. Huffing with annoyance you step over Eddie’s bags of shit and get a knife from the drawer to slice the apple. The loud shrill screeching of 80’s metal almost makes you cut your finger. Stomping into Eddie’s room with your fuzzy slippers you don’t bother on knocking before you look for the plug to his cassette player, unhooking it from the outlet and pointing the knife in his direction, you all but scream in his face, “I almost cut my fucking finger off! Turn it down or I’ll cut the goddamn cord!”
He’s sitting crossed legged on the floor, cassettes littering his lap, his eyes almost bored, “aww Tooty I’ll play with you in a little bit, daddy just has to get some things done first, ‘kay?”
You roll your eyes in disgust, did he seriously just refer to himself as ‘daddy’?
“God you are foul,” you retort, throwing the cord down onto the carpet and placing the knife on a nearby box, “wouldn’t surprise me if you were a dad.”
Eddie throws his head back with a chuckle, “why? You into dad bods? Listen sweetheart, my metabolism will slow down eventually, gimme three—four years max and I’ll be all gut.” He flashes his pearly whites towards you and winks.
Ignoring him completely, your nose scrunches. “Stop calling me that!” your heart is pounding in your chest fury on high, “what the hell is that?”
“That,” Eddie says batting his eyelashes, “would be my masculinity wafting from my aura to yours, why does it turn you on?”
You fold your arms over your chest, and shift your slippered feet beneath you, “Do you have a certain amount of disgusting phrases you have to get out throughout the day or are you just naturally this nauseating to be around?”
“No idea, anyway,” Eddie continues, standing to his full height and shucking off his jacket and tossing it to the ground, “I’m gonna order a pizza you want in?”
“Maybe you should finish unpacking,” you say taking a quick glance around the clothes strewn everywhere around the room, “it’s a fucking mess in here.”
Eddie leans in close eyes ghosting over your features as they gawk over your lips, “well, sweetheart, maybe if you had given me the bigger room— like I had asked for— I would have enough space to put my stuff, besides,” he says, standing up and leaning backwards to crack his back, a small trail of hair peeking out from his waistband makes your breath hitch in your throat, “I bought dressers and they’ll be delivered on Monday, so my clothes don’t have a place to go right now, unless you wanna split your closet?”
“I’d rather drop dead.”
“Aww don’t do that, far too pretty to be dead, and what would the neighbors think?” He strips off his shirt and throws it in the corner of his room, your eyes dart away but not before catching a glimpse of his pale skin.
The small tattoos he had in high school are slightly faded with time, new ones are inked down his arms, across his chest and down his side. You can’t help but notice the silver hoops pierced through his nipples as they reflect light and draw you in towards his chest. He’s lean but built, no defining abs but the muscles in his arms could be carved from a sculptor, replicating a greek statue. Surely minutes have gone by but in reality it has only been seconds, you don’t even realize he’s still talking.
“…don’t need to give the cops more of a reason to watch me more than they already do.” He drops his eyes to your face, seeing you peek at his body. A grin is plastered to his lips as they curve upwards, he stretches his arms out wide, the veins in his arms protruding further out, oh what you’d give to just touch it with your hands, your tongue— wait what?—“Shit,” he says, drifting forward, your body pulling away from him, “looks like you aren’t into dad bods after all.”
Your cheeks flare red as you stomp out of his room, his joker laugh vibrates the walls as you slam your door. Throwing yourself on the smooth purple cotton of your comforter, and screaming into your pillow.
Nobody ever got under your skin the way he is. Why are you allowing him to frustrate you this much? He’s a boob. A pimple on your ass. That annoying twitch that your eye sometimes does when you don't have enough sleep. Yes, the festering wound, the bad rash that kept coming back, the burn in your belly, the thorn in your side— is now your roommate. Fuck.
A knock on your bedroom door, brings you back to your current state of throwing a hissy fit. You launch your cup of pens that adorns your nightstand at the door.
“Does that mean you don’t like pineapple on your pizza?”
-
Thank God you showered before Eddie started unloading his stuff, because he has been in the bathroom for at least a half hour. You’re sitting on the couch, the same rough, itchy upholstery that used to take up way too much space in the Wheeler’s basement. But a $20 bill and Nancy promising her dad that she would mow the lawn for the entire summer of ‘91, and it was now yours. Karen would sigh with relief that the ugly furniture was leaving, meaning her living room would get an upgrade as their now living room furniture would find solace in the basement. No longer stinking of cheesy pizza farts and bad B.O., or screaming threats from middle school boys about the inner demons of DnD, Mrs. Wheeler would come to miss the yelling, and the rotten stench of boys running amuck in her house. Nancy parted with the under stuffed, well loved, hideous piece of furniture when she moved in with Jonathan. So now, the outdated, wagon wheel patterned couch, was all yours.
The smell of finger nail polish fills the living room as you attempt at painting your toenails a shimmery blue that you had gotten at the mall with Robin. A fuzzy navel wine cooler tucked between your legs, you’re trying hard to get it finished before a new episode of “The Nanny” comes on. Eddie is singing in the shower, loudly. You recognize the tune as “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. Not that you were admiring the way his voice sounded. You were just surprised that a twenty six year old weirdo actually knew good music. The doorbell rings, snapping you out of, yet again, another strange spiral of thinking about Eddie Munson.
“Eddie!” You holler from the living room, “door.”
“Money’s in my wallet, just pay the dude quick and I’ll be out in a minute.” He yells back from the shower.
“Eddie, I’m busy— get the fuck out here and do it yourself.” There is no way you are walking around with wet toenails, what the hell was he thinking?
“I’m in the middle of washing my ba— “
“Alright! Fine!” You walk on your heels to the door, opening it quick to find a Hawkins High student in a red hat with the pizza logo on it.
“That’ll be $19.50,” he says with a less than enthused remark.
“Hang on,” walking back to the bathroom on heeled feet you knock on the door, “where’s your wallet?” you ask in a hurry through the door.
“Uh, my jeans I think,” Eddie yells back. You cross into Eddie’s room, looking around the mess he made, realizing the only thing he managed to make an attempt at organizing was his never ending cassettes, a few records, and an old record player. Posters decorated every wall. Metallica, Nirvana, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, and White Zombie. The clothes were piled high in a mountain of leather, flannel and white cotton socks. Not a single pair of jeans that you could see. His bed sat on the ground, cluttered with notebook papers, dice, and tightly rolled joints.
“Eddie!” You yell from his room, “where the hell are your jeans?”
A chuckle echoes in the bathroom, muffled slightly by the spray of the shower head, “they’re in here, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with smugness and sweet notes of laughter.
Fuck it, we don’t need pizza. I can eat cereal. I’ll just tell the pizza kid to leave and Eddie can fend for himself. Fuck this.
“Tooty?” He calls from the shower, enunciating every syllable. “Come on,” he sings, laughing to himself, “I promise I’ll stay behind the curtain. You won’t see a thing— unless of course— you want to.”
You barge through the door, fumbling through Eddie’s jeans pockets, finding the black leather of his chain wallet and yanking out $25. An idea crosses your mind and you can’t help but go through with it. A flick of the lights had Eddie cursing every word imaginable as he was cast into darkness.
Thrusting cash into pimple head’s hand and shutting the door, you walk into the kitchen to get some plates. Eddie emerges from the bathroom. His hair is dripping in long strands, and your robe is wrapped right around his body, barely covering his southern region. The pink terry cloth material lined with lace looking absolutely ridiculous on his tattoo covered body.
Oh— this mother fucker.
“Are you seriously wearing my robe?” You ask, hands on your hips, nails digging into the cotton pajama shorts you’re wearing.
Eddie does a spin and swings his hips in a circular motion, his dick swinging like a helicopter.
“Well sweetheart, when you so rudely turned the lights off on me, I was forced to find the first thing I could to dry off with, and besides— you can’t deny how good I look,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, smiling the widest smile you had ever seen from him.
A lump of anger and sheer rage catches in your throat, “you’re repulsive,” you say, turning away from him and tossing pizza onto plates.
“And you,” Eddie says sliding beside you, his breath fanning your cheek, the cold drops of water from his curls pressing into your shoulder as he grabs a greasy slice of pizza straight from the box, “are extremely uptight.” The whites of his teeth bite into the cheesy triangle and chew loudly as he smacks his lips, licking the orange grease from his lips.
Anger boils in your belly, filling your veins with agitation so thick they’re bound to clog up. “I. Am. Not. Uptight,” you seethe through clenched teeth, and closed eyes.
“Yeah, sure sure,” Eddie says, mouth full of pizza, and his eyebrows raised, “whatever you say.”
You weren’t always this high strung. But having everything ripped away from you, would make anyone pretty goddamn bitter to the lemonade life had to offer.
vol ii
volume ii
A/N: thank you to everyone for reading this and continuing to support my crazy ideas. Thank you to everyone I had beta this story—@agentmarvel @pinkrelish + @sweetsweetjellybean you all push me to be a better writer and I am forever grateful for that ♥️♥️🖤💋
Taglist: @luna-munson83 @tlclick73 @idkidknemore @joejoequinnquinn @newlips (omg, they were roommates)
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jesuistrestriste · 3 months
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♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡
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nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm
wc: 6.3 k (whoops)
note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆.
The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.
"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.
It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.
-
After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.
At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..
You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.
Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.
Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.
Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!
You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.
Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.
He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.
I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.
And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..
-
After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.
Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.
“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.
you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.
“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”
He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.
“What’d your colleagues do now?”
You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.
“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”
“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”
“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven.” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)
“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”
You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.
“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.
His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.
“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”
You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.
“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.
He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.
“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.
You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.
“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”
He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.
“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”
You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.
You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.
His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.
You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.
“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.
He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.
He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.
Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.
“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.
He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”
“They look perfect, don’t stress.”
He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.
“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.
“I am.”
“Are you?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
You suddenly get a very filthy idea.
“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”
His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.
“What?”
You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.
“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”
He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.
“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”
His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.
You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”
A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”
You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”
He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.
“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.
Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.
“Close?” you whisper.
His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.
“Very,” he groans.
You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.
“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”
You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.
“Now take your sweats off for me.”
He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.
You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.
"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.
You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.
He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.
"Open," you whisper.
He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.
You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.
While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.
"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.
Art knew this command like the back of his hand.
Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.
"Good job.. good boy..."
He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.
"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.
"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.
You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.
"What was that?"
You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.
"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.
He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.
Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.
"You can rip them."
He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.
In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.
"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."
He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).
You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.
"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.
He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.
You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..
"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.
"I'm going to cum, Art..!"
"Mm! Mm-mm!"
"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.
"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.
You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.
"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.
His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.
"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."
He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.
You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.
"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"
He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.
"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.
His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.
You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"
He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.
You roll your eyes.
"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."
He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.
"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.
"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"
He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.
"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"
You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"
He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.
You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.
You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.
Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"
You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?
"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"
He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.
You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.
"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."
He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.
And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.
"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.
"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.
He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.
"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"
He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.
"Remember what we just talked about?"
He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.
He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.
"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.
He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.
"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.
You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"
He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.
You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.
"Come."
And he does just that.
Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.
"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.
He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.
You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.
"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.
He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.
"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"
You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.
"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"
He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.
"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.
He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.
You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.
"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.
He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.
You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.
"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."
The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.
He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.
"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.
You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.
"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."
He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."
You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.
It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.
"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.
"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.
You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.
He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."
You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..
"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.
"You know what you need to do, darling."
"Please," he moans, "let me come.."
"You want to come?"
"Yes."
"You do?"
"YES..!"
"How should I make you come?"
"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.
You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.
"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"
"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.
He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.
"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."
"Please, can I come?"
"Again."
He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.
"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"
"Yes, honey, you can come."
You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"
When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.
"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"
It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...
His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.
Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--
"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"
He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.
You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.
Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.
You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.
"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."
He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.
You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.
"I feel weak," he groans softly.
You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."
He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.
"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.
"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆.
notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3
reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!
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pearl-tarotist · 10 months
Text
* ༺ Your beauty ༻ *
In this tarot reading I will describe the beauty that you have and I will mixed it with some poems, things, feelings and situations that remind me of you.
Disclaimer: I do not consider beauty only as physical attributes.
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She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes...
PILE 1
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Dear Pile 1,
Your beauty is sweeping and easily strikes the eyes of others at first glance. Your presence is strong as a furious river, people enjoy the scene and they are in awe at it. But the strength that the river has dissolves when they try to cage the water.
Your beauty is natural and pure as the liquid that gives us life; it cannot be replicated or forced at the will of others, it just comes from you, your presence and your soul. It's not the material but the energy that shapes it.
You are passionate, energetic and pure, what in the words of Sylvia Plath would be translated as “I am too pure for you or anyone", from the poem "Fever 103°.
In the same way as the damsel in distress when sad or overwhelmed, you hide yourself in the highest tower or in the lowest cave. Your beauty can just be encased by your own hand...and you do. Your fear that the show of your real self to the world will end in a lose of stability. You hide because you feel that showing your true nature and sweet but passionate soul will destroy your own world and the relationship that you have with others.
You hide under the presence of a basic person, fashion-like or behaviourally-like, but you beauty shines in the unconsciously curves of your cheeks and lips. There's something pleasuring and round about your lips that make your words sweeter and gentler than average. There's something about your back and position that could be beautiful too, stand straight and let other see you.
Your passionate and in that passion you are sweet and cute, just like the childish heroine of a story that never gives up.
Long legs, baby-like face, pouty lips, soft skin, limitless strength, adventures that you want to live and the passion when you speak half-baked of them. I'm not going to lie, for some, your beauty resides in your bad states, when they can take care of you as if you were something to fix or defend, but I do not think that's your beauty but what others find themselves attracted to.
Your beauty is not equalled to their attraction.
Stuff that reminds me of your beauty:
A Poem: My head a moon /Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin / Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive. (Poem fever 103).
The flowing of a mighty river surrounded by grass.
The shaking pale hand of someone that has fought and won.
The elegant makeup of the Geishas.
The warm caresses of a loved one.
Knight of wands/5oW/The Chariot/10oC/5oP/4oS
PILE 2
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Dear Pile 2,
You get things done. You are full and complete on your own, independent and capable. There's nothing that you can not resolve, you are efficient, strong and powerful. A scopio, pluto dominant or 8th house energy on your natal chart?
You are so beautiful on your own, so successful and victorious. Your willpower and your resistance towards adversity have created the most polished part of yourself, just like a diamond. If I have to be honest, it's not just your resistance but also your search of fights for truth and new adventures. The need to discover new things.
You are openminded and know that with a simple and small discovery, the perception of your reality can change in seconds, that's why, often, you feel that you do not belong to places or "homes" but that you are your own home. Your ideas and mental world is the only place you should be comfortable with.
There's also a characteristic of foreigner to your beauty, you could travel a lot or be "exotic" to others, in the sense of being different from them, physically and mentally. You are not a copy of the current societies but a mix of everything (past, present and future) and that's why others are intrigued by you, they want to learn about this composition. I would bet for a little bit of aquarius is in your natal chart, I guess.
You are clever and curios about everything what makes other being intrigued by you as they do not know what to expect. They can not tag you in one social group, you are way more than just that.
You do things with security, your hands do not shake in front of others and I would say that you are also quite social as you want to learn about everything, like a bee that goes from flower to flower, you go from person to person.
Piercing eyes, beautiful eyebrows, a nice chest, some of you could have a voluptuous body, an accent when speaking, and knowledge that extends for miles.
Stuff that reminds me of your beauty:
The sword of Arthur Pendragon, Excalibur.
The satisfaction after a job well-done.
The mist of the forest before the faes appear.
“For she had eyes and chose me.” (William Shakespeare, Othello)
"fuck it I love you" by Lana del Rey.
The World/ The Chariot/ The Fool/ Knight and king of Wands/ King of Swords
PILE 3
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Dear Pile 3,
I fear that some of you are unable to see your own beauty. The cards that I got are unpeaceful and represent fights and loses.
Nevertheless, let's start with the reading. Your beauty is different from the rest, I like the way that you do not want to be exactly like the others. I applause you for not following the trends, the viral products and the fast-clothing industry. Your best quality is the uniqueness and respect for your natural state. Somehow, I believe that this is also one point of hurt for you, because you are not like the others, so you feel less...but, in my opinion, it lifts you higher than others.
To have an opinion of your own under a society that push us more often to have a single mindset is of respect and admiration.
Following the last idea, you are someone with spark, with cleverness, someone that has great ideas and potential that you can develop endlessly. You are a pool of ideas full of different points of views that need growing and development, a little bit of Gemini/ Sagittarius energy on your natal chart, no?
These ideas are not developed to the end, I think you jump around and start a lot of ideas that do not end up in a solid project, but that does not stop you from enjoying it nevertheless. I feel that there's two types of people: the ones that focus on just one thing and the ones that know a bit about everything. You are the second one, and in it resides your beauty.
Curious, fighter, powerful, with potential and creativity. Soft and uniform skin, probably short height but with a good posture, hands that are warm and search for the touch of others, lover of animals, young but wise. You may decorate your hair with caps, bows or similar. That's your beauty.
Stuff that remind me of your beauty:
Jeanne d'arc - Albert Lynch
The soft fur of animals like a horse or a deer.
The coldness of a knife close to the neck of the main character carried by their "enemy". (Enemy to lovers AU fr).
The endless routine of the sun (sunrise and sunset).
The smell of an old book.
5oS/2oW/The Tower/ 8oS/7oW/Page of Pentacles
This reading belongs in exclusivity to @pearl-tarotist.
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mypimpademia · 10 months
Text
— The Teacher (pt. 2)
Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader
Synopsis: Little Megumi wonders if you’re his new mom, and Gojo finds himself wondering the same thing.
TW: None
Note: click/tap here for part 1! or Click/tap here for part 3! I forgot to mention it in the first part, but ig it was kinda implied, Gojo is 29 in this not a teen like he was in canon. Gojo is also very briefly implied to get around
⇶ Satoru stuck to his promise of taking you out
⇶ He left Megumi with Utahime for the night, and made sure that everything was perfect for you
⇶ Truthfully, he went a little overboard out of his own anxiety
⇶ Booked reservations for one of the nicest restaurants in town, deep cleaned his house (just in case), got his already clean car detailed, bought a new suit despite having many hardly-worn ones in his closet, stalked your socials for hints at what you might like, and more that he’d be far too embarrassed to ever admit to
⇶ Satoru picked you up from your house at 6 pm, knocking on your door with a giant bouquet of flowers in hand
“You look incredible.”
Those were the only words Satoru could come up with when he saw you.
He always thinks you look incredible, but seeing you all dressed up outside of your usual work attire was a nice change of pace, and you looked effortlessly beautiful.
“Thank you, Toru,” you beamed. “You look pretty,” you told him, scanning over his tall figure, clad in a deep blue suit.
‘Toru’, ‘pretty’. He nearly passed out on your porch.
Satoru smiled, clearing his throat in an effort to gather his bearings as he fought back the deep blush that was crawling up his face.
“For you, mon chéri,” he said, in a corny fake French accent, presenting the large bouquet of flowers to you.
They were neatly wrapped in a brown paper, and tied off with a white bow. From just the look of it, you could tell they were expensive.
“These are my favorite,” you gasped, taking them from him. “How’d you know?”
He stalked your instagram and found a post from a year ago where you said you loved them.
“Lucky guess,” Satoru smiled. “Y’ready to go?”
⇶ He led you to his shiny black sports car, opening up the door for you to get in
⇶ It even smelled expensive, and the fresh scent of car shampoo was still lingering. You could tell he had it cleaned just for this, but didn’t say anything
⇶ When you got to the restaurant, out of place was an understatement for how you felt
⇶ You were just happy you decided to dress nicer than you had originally planned
⇶ Looking around, the restaurant was beautifully decorated, and the people dining were dressed just as beautiful
⇶ The more time you spent with Satoru, the more that you realized you knew next to nothing about him
⇶ Where does he get all this money from? What does he do for a living? Who is he, really? And what’s up with the sunglasses?
⇶ You will admit, the mystery only made him all the more attractive, but you had a newfound determination to peel back his layers
⇶ But your first date might not be the best time for that, so you were willing to let things unfold naturally for now
⇶ Satoru insisted that you ordered whatever you want off the menu because he was paying, and ignored your protests
⇶ You hopped around different topics of conversation throughout dinner, and you did eventually make it to the subject of work
⇶ Satoru asked you what exactly made you want to teach preschool, or teach at all, and watched your eyes light up
⇶ Teaching was undoubtably a job you need to have a passion for, and you had more than enough passion for it
⇶ You told him that you’ve always had an interest in teaching, and loved kids and thought they were precious, sacred even, and that their early years are the best part to watch and be a part of
⇶ Satoru’s heart was getting ready to leap out of his chest just watching you talk about something you love so much
‘She’d make a great mom for Megs…’
⇶ The thought surprised even him, Satoru wasn’t sure if it was genuine or intrusive, but it had him glancing at your features and around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally said it aloud
⇶ He told you that all the kids were lucky to have you, and that seeing you take care of Megumi and all those kids with ease made him feel like his worries from adopting were pointless
⇶ He glazed over the adoption part so easily, you almost missed it
⇶ Sure, you were more than well aware that Satoru was a single father, and when you saw that his last name was different from Megumi’s, you just assumed it was his mothers last name
“It is his mothers last name, but he’s not at all my biological kid. I adopted him from… a friend.”
⇶ You had removed a layer from Satoru, only to find how thin it was in comparison to the amount he had left
⇶ The revelation answered some of the questions you had, and left you with even more at the same time
⇶ Just based on the hesitation he showed, you knew better than to press any further, and changed the subject
⇶ The rest of dinner went smoothly, and you and Satoru once again went back and forth about the bill before he was calling the waiter back to take his card
⇶ On the drive back, Satoru asked if you wanted to see Megumi since Utahime’s house was in the same direction as yours
⇶ You said yes, because of course you wanted to see Megumi, and because it was getting harder and harder for you to say no to Satoru
⇶ When you arrived at Utahime’s, Megumi lept at you before he even said hello to Satoru
⇶ Satoru feigned being hurt by the action, but Megumi still payed him no mind, directing all his attention to you
⇶ Satoru thanked Utahime for watching Megumi, and you overheard her saying something about not dumping his kid on her again
⇶ Megumi had you sit in the backseat with him, and told you about all the stuff he did at Utahime’s
⇶ All the sudden, he asked why you and Satoru were all dressed up
“Did you guys go on a date?”
You and Satoru shared a questioning look through the rear view mirror, one that asked ‘Should we tell him?’.
“Sure did little man!” Satoru told him, but Megumi didn’t seem too surprised by his answer.
“Oh, Dad goes on a lot of those,” Megumi said, before going back to playing with the plastic dinosaur in his lap.
Satoru was rethinking all his life choices in that moment. He gulped back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, already going over how exactly he could explain that to you later on.
To his surprise, he heard you laugh at Megumi’s comment.
“But I’m your favorite, right?” You asked the boy, playfully nudging him. He turned to you with big wide eyes and smiled.
“Yup!”
⇶ Dropping you off at your house, Satoru thanked you for letting him take you out, and haphazardly tried to apologize for Megumi’s little comment and explain himself
⇶ You told him it was fine, and thanked him for the night, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek
⇶ Satoru froze up at the action, but managed to say bye to you as he collected himself and you disappeared into your house
⇶ When he and Megumi got back home, Satoru made a point to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t just throw out information like that to people, especially you
⇶ While putting on the boys pajamas in the dimly lit dinosaur themed room, Megumi yawned out a question
“Hey, dad,”
He spoke through a yawn while rubbing his eye with his fist. Satoru hummed back in acknowledgment, straining out the bottom of the little boy’s pajama shirt
“Is Ms. L/n gonna be my mom?” Megumi asked, looking at Satoru with low, sleepy eyes.
Satoru thought back to the statement that popped into his head during dinner. You would make a great mom for him.
“Um,” Satoru started, tucking Megumi underneath his comforter. “I dunno yet.”
He was honest. He didn’t know if what he was feeling for you was real or if he was just in over his head.
“I hope she is,” Megumi muttered, huffing out as his breathing turned into soft snores.
“Me too, Megs.”
Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari @goldenglow149 + @torusmochi
Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.
Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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luxsky · 5 months
Text
Kicking out
Rhysand x reader
Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.
Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.
Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).
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It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?
Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.
It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.
Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.
Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.
Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.
You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."
You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."
You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."
"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."
He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.
I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.
"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.
Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.
The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.
His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."
''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."
That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.
He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.
"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.
Splash.
"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"
Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.
"I think my water just broke."
Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.
And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.
867 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 14 days
Text
Covering the Classics Part 7 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Just when Anna starts to feel settled, a simple cookout at her friend's house turns everything upside down. Her jealousy shines through, and there's nothing she can do to try to take it back.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Things with Bob felt like they shifted back to normal again, and Anna was thankful for that. Every book she let him borrow was returned with a note folded up inside. Some of them were short and simple. When he handed back Love Letters of Great Men, the note simply said The dog eared pages are going to make me cry. But some of them were longer and more elaborate.
She was running a little late to meet him at the usual coffee shop, worried he would already be there. He seemed to end up paying for her drink every single time, which was honestly really sweet of him, but she felt like such a nuisance. When she walked inside, he was there, at a table with two steaming mugs in front of him and his nose buried in a book. In one of Anna's books. In her copy of Wuthering Heights.
Her whole body felt too warm as she thought about how much she would love to have Bob read every single one of the hundreds of books she owned. Maybe even read some parts out loud in that deep, soothing voice. She would love to hear his take on each plot and watch him blush as he called her the expert and asked for her opinions. She would love to take the book from his hands and pull him down into bed with her.
But she couldn't do that. They were just friends. So instead, she dropped down into the empty seat across from him and said, "Hi, Bob," with a smile she hoped wasn't as sad as she felt.
"Anna." Her name sounded like golden perfection when he said it, and she shivered. "This book... I can't stop reading it. I read it twice already," he said with a little laugh. "How in the world do you always know exactly what I'm going to like?"
Because she felt undeniably drawn to him and his preferences and everything about him.
"Because I'm a professional."
He laughed a little more as his pretty lake-blue eyes followed her cup as she brought it up to her lips. When the ceramic touched her, he looked away as his cheeks grew pink. He pushed the book across the table, and when she reached for it, he said, "Uh, just read that note later, okay?"
When she saw the edge of white paper sticking out from the worn pages, she said, "Sure, Bob."
He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Did you hear about the change of venue for tomorrow?"
Anna ducked her head. "Yeah, the girls told me about it at lunch yesterday. A cookout? Bradley wants to show off his new grill?"
Bob nodded and said, "Could be a nice change from the Hard Deck for once."
While he wasn't wrong, Anna hated that she still barely had enough money to make ends meet. San Diego was expensive, and when she asked Advanced Calculus what she could bring with her to their house to contribute to the meal, her friend said to bring hot dog and hamburger buns. Anna was already trying to figure out how to scrape together the ten dollars that would be required when Jessica said she already bought some along with chips and pretzels. When she didn't quite meet Anna's eyes, she knew for a fact that Jessica had figured her out.
"Yeah. I suppose," Anna told Bob. But at least at the Hard Deck, Penny didn't usually even charge her for the three dollar ginger ales. And if she did, one of the guys just put it on their tab like it was nothing. When she showed up empty handed to the cookout, she was going to feel awful that Jessica had covered for her. 
"You want another coffee?" Bob asked, standing with his own mug, but Anna shook her head. She couldn't let him pay for another thing. Perhaps deleting multi millionaire Dev Borah's phone number wasn't her best move. Not that she would ever take advantage of someone for their money. Not after what Kevin did to her.
"No. But thank you. I actually can't stay very long today."
Bob nodded before saying, "No worries. I have dinner plans with Suzanne before Mickey picks me up for D&D anyway."
And there it was once again. The reminder that Bob didn't think about that kiss nearly as much as she did. "I hope you have a great time."
------------------------
It was late on Saturday night, and he should have been in bed, but Bob had his computer out. He reasoned that he could sleep in as late as he wanted tomorrow before heading to pick up the burgers Bradley asked him to bring for the cookout. He could stay up as long as it took for him to finish this poem and finally post it on PoetsAmongUs after looking at it for weeks.
If anyone knew he was writing about Anna, he would probably die on the spot. But nobody in his life knew he wrote anything in his free time, let alone the fact that he wrote poetry. And this poem was getting close to needing a 'mature' label if he was going to post it online.
"What are you doing?" he asked himself softly. Somehow he believed that writing about her specifically would cleanse him of these thoughts, but now he knew he was wrong. He proofread and posted his poem anyway while his skin prickled with need. He'd never experienced the kind of love his friends had, and in spite of all of her hesitations, he could imagine it happening with Anna. If anything, he liked that she seemed cautious and contemplative, he just wished she wasn't still that way toward him. 
She made him want to keep leaving her notes in the books he borrowed from her, but she also made him feel like an idiot for wanting to do that. It was maddening. He needed to sleep, but he was too warm, imagining Anna once again in place of his faceless lover while he touched himself. He almost couldn't wait until the day when someone else would take her place in his mind, even if it meant settling.
The next day, he drove his old pickup toward the coast with the burgers and a six pack of ginger ale in tow. The Spanish revival style house that Bradley purchased before he and his wife made things official again was cute with desert landscaping, but she was the one who really made it a home. There was art hanging on the walls in every room, including a panoramic watercolor of the scenery of Virginia. The front bedroom had been turned into her home office, and for some reason, she had Bradley's fraternity paddle hanging in there. The house seemed more lived in now, and Bob knew Bradley was much happier for it.
"Hey, thanks man," Bradley told him, taking the bag of burgers when he got there. He was wearing his hideous Grateful Dead shirt and holding two cans of beer on one hand, but he still managed to give Bob a quick hug. "Sugar's out back, setting up some snacks and just generally looking hot. You want a beer?"
Bob held up the ginger ales in response and said, "Thanks, but I'll just have one of these for now." The last thing he wanted was a hangover like he had after their New Year's Eve party.
"Hi!" Jessica said as she and Jake walked inside, and she made a beeline right for Bob. "Have you given any more thought to how I should paint my barbarian?"
He just smiled as she started to push him through the kitchen toward the back door. "We just played yesterday. I didn't know you'd still be in the mood to talk about your ridiculous D&D character."
"Please," she practically whined. "You know how sensitive my barbarian is."
Bob snorted; truly he never would have expected he and she would have had so much in common, but even Jessica couldn't keep his attention once he saw who Bradley's wife was talking to. Anna had some freckles on her thighs. Her cutoff denim shorts went high enough up her legs that he was treated to the sight of freckles everywhere. And that wasn't all. Not even close. The deep "V" of her shirt revealed that there was a pretty good chance the freckles even trailed down inside her bra.
He wasn't going to survive the cookout if he had to look at her all afternoon. Her red hair was clipped up on top of her head with some sort of claw-shaped thing, and her skin was just everywhere. Her neck and her legs and the swell of her breasts. Her fingernails were burgundy again, just like the first day he saw her. She hadn't even noticed him yet, which was terrible, because if she had, he would have looked away by now. Instead he was given ample opportunity to memorize the way her legs looked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shuffling her beat up sneakers a bit along the patio.
"Oh," Jessica whispered, squeezing his bicep gently when he stopped responding to her. "Yeah, that'll do it." Her tone sounded slightly sympathetic, and it made Bob so self conscious. "Let's go say hi."
He shook his head jerkily and muttered, "In a second." Anna was currently laughing, head thrown back in delight, and Bob got the briefest peek at the strip of skin above her shorts and her bellybutton, and his brain actually stopped functioning. When she tipped her head forward again, an overjoyed smile still on her lips, she met his gaze. His brain jump started again as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and he took a step in her direction before he could reconsider.
"Hey, Bob." She sounded a little breathless as she said his name while Bradley's wife smirked at the two of them. But he and Anna were just friends, and he needed to remember that.
"Anna," he replied softly, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. His palms were sweaty, and he knew he was blushing. He'd never make it out of here alive. Not when she was looking at him like that. 
She smiled and said, "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"
Bob was already about to agree with whatever she said, because it sounded exactly perfect to him, then he heard someone screeching his name.
"Bob!" There was a brunette flash streaking across the small backyard, and then Natasha Trace was in his arms. She was giggling next to his ear where she kissed his cheek three times in a row, knocking his glasses askew.
"I didn't know you were coming home today," he said in surprise.
"I didn't tell anyone except Bradley. Did I surprise you?" she asked.
"That's an understatement, Nat," he replied, hugging her tighter when she refused to let go. "I missed you."
Her familiar laughter was comforting as she said, "You have no idea how much I hate flying with anyone other than you." When she finally started to pull away from him, she added, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."
-----------------------------
Anna couldn't believe how incredible her friend's house was. It was huge and beautiful, and she had a yard. A yard! In California! There was colorful art on the walls, which appeared to be a collection of things that she and Bradley enjoyed. Her office was something Anna could only dream about, and the kitchen was bigger than her whole apartment.
After a tour of the interior, she stood on the patio in the autumn sunlight in a pair of shorts, something she would have never been able to do in New Jersey. Every day seemed to get better than the last, assuming she could keep the intrusive thoughts about Kevin away. And also assuming she could figure out what she was supposed to do about Bob and the growing collection of feelings she seemed to have for him.
"You have to hear what happened in my Differential Equations lecture on Friday afternoon," her friend was saying as they stood near the new grill that would soon be the centerpiece of the afternoon. "You won't even believe it."
Anna listened for a minute to the wild story, bursting into laughter when she learned how her friend thought she was going to have to call the fire department while she was teaching. Then she saw him. Bob was here with his tidy hair and his adorable glasses and his big hands, and like always her brain filled up with the beautiful poetry she loved so much. Somehow it seemed to go together with him. Those stunning words matched the way he made her feel.
She had to bite her lip in an attempt to calm herself down. "Hey, Bob," she managed to say as his cheeks flushed pink.
"Anna."
Oh, she was a mess. She thought about him way too frequently, even taking the time to compile the titles of some books she had read and loved, convincing herself he might like some of them too. "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"
But she stopped mid sentence when she heard some excited chatter behind Bob, and then a woman came running out through the back door. A beautiful woman. Calling his name. Jumping into his arms. Anna was treated to the sight of the woman's lips brushing against Bob's cheek while he held onto her like he was just reunited with the only person he ever cared about. She had to watch as this other woman ran her fingers gently along his skin in exactly the way Anna fantasized about. And when she looked around, nobody seemed concerned by this turn of events, rather they all acted like it was perfectly normal that Bob and this woman were whispering intimately to each other.
Then Anna heard her say, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."
Oh. Well. There was a sour taste in her mouth as she took a step backwards as the rest of the group greeted this mystery woman. Anna was going to have to have words with Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics after this. Maybe they tried to set her up with Bob, because they didn't like this other woman? That idea vaporized as soon as she saw Jessica embrace her with a bright smile on her face.
Anna felt like her chest was growing tighter by the second, and then Jessica started to pull the pretty brunette toward her. "You have to come meet the newest faculty member from the English department! Dr. Anna Webber."
The woman looked her up and down with dark, appraising eyes and a little smirk set firmly on her lips. Then she stuck out her right hand and said, "I'm Natasha Trace."
The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was shake hands, but Jessica was looking at her with concern, probably wondering why she was just standing there. "It's a pleasure," Anna said with as much conviction as she could muster, shaking hands as briefly as she could.
"You teach at San Diego State too?" Natasha asked as her smirk bloomed into a bigger smile. When Anna nodded, she laughed and added, "What the hell do they put in the water at that school?"
Jessica was beaming now as she said, "Anna gives book recommendations to Bob all the time."
"Really? Is that so?" Natasha asked, still eyeing Anna like a predator would their prey, when Bob appeared with two cans of ginger ale. He gave one to Natasha and then tried to hand the other one to Anna as Natasha said, "I actually read a phenomenal book last month, Bob. I'll write down the title for you."
He kind of smiled, still holding out the other can toward Anna who felt like she was on the verge of screaming. "No. Thank you," she told him, taking a few steps away as she clocked the hurt expression on his face. "I don't want any."
The uncomfortable feeling was overtaking Anna's whole body now when Natasha leaned a little closer to Bob and softly muttered, "Let me guess... you have a little crush? This happened in my absence?"
Anna turned and went inside, searching for the bathroom she'd seen on the house tour. That woman was mocking her. Anna didn't want to hear any more of that conversation, because it was making her skin crawl. And worse still, she was finally able to identify this feeling as she closed and locked the door and leaned on the sink vanity.
Jealousy. 
She was more jealous of this petite brunette who seemed to think Bob's personal space was hers for the taking than she ever was about Kevin and Alyssa. She was beside herself at the idea of another woman giving Bob book recommendations and making fun of his stupid little crush on her.
This was exactly why she should have never let herself have feelings. When she looked in the mirror, she saw tears in her eyes. "Shit," she whispered. She didn't have a car, so she couldn't just discreetly leave. Plus she'd been looking forward to eating something other than one of her sad sandwiches for days.
The jealousy gave way to anger as she wiped her eyes with a tissue and dropped it in the trash can. Her new friends invited her here, and she was going to stay. She wasn't going to let her feelings for Bob Floyd dictate her mood or what she felt she was allowed to do. She wasn't going to let another man run her life like that ever again.
With her head held high, she walked back outside, making it a point to avoid Bob and Natasha at all costs. She willingly had a thirty minute conversation with Jake and Mickey about the Marvel Cinematic Universe as an excuse to keep her distance. Then she and Bradley discussed the extensive musical catalogue of the Grateful Dead while she slowly sipped a beer to try to take the edge off. Then he turned on the grill, and the smell of food cooking had her excited enough that it was becoming easier and easier to ignore Bob.
When she accidentally looked his way, he was already eyeing her with a confused expression. She could pretend all day long that she didn't care what he thought and that she wasn't jealous at all. She could be so stubborn about this. At least all they had between them was that one awkward, fumbled kiss in his truck. It wasn't like she'd slept with him before he ditched her for the much better looking Natasha.
She was still doing a fine job of ignoring both of them when Bradley announced that dinner was ready. Anna took a plate of food and scooted all the way to the end of the rectangular patio table, snagging the spot across from Jessica. She was willing to talk about anything right now, even her friend's physics curriculum that she could barely comprehend, but then Bob was right next to her.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked cautiously, setting his plate next to hers. Anna just shrugged, and then she was enveloped in his clean scent as he eased himself down in the seat with his knee hitting her thigh. She quickly crossed her legs before scooting her chair a few inches to the side away from his. "Are you okay?"
Anna almost laughed as Natasha found a spot on the other side of the table. "I'm just fine," she said before taking a huge bite of her burger and avoiding looking at either of them.
"Right," Bob whispered, frowning down toward his plate as she gave him side eye. "I just... feel like I did something to upset you."
Anna shook her head, and when she was done chewing the delicious food, she said, "Not at all. You're free to make the decisions you want to make. And I'm free to keep my books to myself since you've got other ones now."
Bob looked at her and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?" 
But Anna was well on her way to starting a conversation with Jessica that could probably last for hours. She ignored him as she asked, "Hey, Jess, what's up with that physics professor who just started wearing a toupee?"
"Dr. Leeland!" she screeched before launching into an animated conversation on the topic of her colleague's hair piece just as expected.
------------------------
Bob was so confused. He had been about to jump at the chance to hang out at the bookstore in North Park with Anna when Natasha arrived. At that point, he honestly thought this was going to be the best day he'd had in a while. Anna seemed happy to see him, and one of his best friends was finally home from deployment. But as soon as that thought entered his mind, Anna started acting like she wanted nothing to do with him. So much so that she asked Jess about some guy's fake hair? Bob sat there and listened to the conversation while he ate, trying to interject, but Anna just wasn't having it. She had even rejected his ginger ale.
What the hell did he do wrong? All he wanted to do was talk to her about books and look at her freckles. She was sitting right next to him, but he may as well have been on Jupiter with the way she seemed convinced that he wasn't even there at all.
As everyone started to finish eating, Bob washed his food down with the rest of his ginger ale. Maybe he should just head home early. He'd be spending all week at work with Nat, so it wasn't like he was going to miss out on much there. And being around Anna when she wasn't even looking at him made him feel like an idiot for secretly writing poems about her. He sat at the table alone for an extra minute with his head cradled in his hands, then he took his trash inside the house.
Of course Anna was the only other person in the kitchen, helpfully washing the grilling utensils and other things Bradley left in the sink. She glanced his way briefly before continuing with her task, and Bob headed for the trash can. He had the perfect view of the freckles on the backs of her thighs, but he didn't feel like he should be looking now. He stood quietly for a few seconds before deciding that he'd give this one last try before heading out.
"Anna," he said just loud enough that he knew she could hear him over the running water. "Can we talk? I just feel like I did something to upset you? When you started to invite me to the bookstore, I was going to say yes. Obviously I'd love to go with-"
She looked at him over her shoulder, and he went silent at her glare. "Why don't you just go with Natasha instead?"
His brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not the kind of thing she and I usually do together."
"Oh?" she asked, her voice dripping with something that made Bob's skin tingle with goosebumps. "Does she usually recommend books while you're out to dinner? Or do you take her to see her favorite movies?" 
She turned off the water and faced him without bothering to dry her hands. His lips parted as he watched the furious looking blush that crept along her chest, up her neck, and to her cheeks. 
"I don't really do those things with her either," he said slowly, trying to puzzle his way through this. She sounded almost jealous of Nat, but that couldn't be. That didn't make any sense at all. Anna made it clear she didn't want to be with him.
"Well, you're free to do whatever you want, Bob," she said with a shrug, chin held high. "This is why we're just friends. You've already got plenty of women to choose from, like Suzanne and Natasha, and I'm not about to get caught up in another attractive man who seems too good to be true."
She started to duck past him, but Bob blocked her path. "Whoa, whoa! No, you've got it all wrong." She doubled back the other way, but he stepped to the side until she bumped into him. "Suzanne is my elderly neighbor. And Natasha and I are friends," he said quickly, and he was rewarded with Anna's brown eyes snapping up to meet his. "I've known her for years. She's the pilot I usually fly with."
Anna took one stumbling step backwards toward the sink. Her teeth sank into her lip like earlier before she whispered, "Oh." She swallowed hard, drawing Bob's gaze back to the freckles on her neck as her blush grew deeper. "So you're not... into her?"
His voice sounded deep even to his own ears as he promised, "Not even slightly. Not like I'm into you."
The kitchen went so silent that Bob could hear laughter filtering from the patio through the open door, and Anna's expression softened as she took a tiny step forward. Then another one. Then one more before she was launching herself into his arms. Bob could feel her damp hands in his hair as their lips met, and it was nothing like the way they kissed in his truck. She wasn't tentative, and he didn't pull away as she kissed him harder. This time her body was pressed to his, and she moaned softly when he let his hands settle on her hips.
Anna coaxed him impossibly closer with her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck, and soon he had her pinned against the edge of the counter. He could feel denim rubbing against denim as she parted her lips and wiggled slowly against him. When Bob swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, Anna let him taste her before her lips drifted along to his neck.
"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her hips in his hands as his index finger met the soft skin of her lower back. She was sucking gently on the spot just to the left of his Adam's apple, and there was no way she couldn't feel how hard he was getting for her right now.
Those burgundy fingernails were scraping gently along his scalp as he rolled his hips one time against her body. When Anna licked his neck, he forced himself to ask the question that was fluttering around the peripheral of his aroused brain. "Are you going to tell me this is another mistake? Like that night in my truck?"
Anna pulled her lips away from his pulse point long enough to whisper, "It wasn't even a mistake last time. I just couldn't help myself."
Then Bob kissed her lips until she was clinging to him with her back arched against the counter and her hips held tightly in his hands. When he could tell someone was coming inside, he pulled himself away, panting as she tried to chase him for more. He could see the questioning look on her face as he stepped aside just before Mickey and Jake walked inside, arguing about who ate the last hot dog.
Anna turned back toward the sink as she blushed, and Bob was aching to kiss her again. Dying to confirm that she wasn't going to write him off again. He cleared his throat and asked, "Will you let me drive you home later?"
Bob heard her soft laugh and whispered, "Yes." Then with a smile, he took the last can of ginger ale from the refrigerator and set it on the counter next to her. She looked up at him, eyes filled with need as he excused himself back out to the patio where he started to count down the minutes until he could suggest it was late enough to leave.
---------------------------
Anna, you are living the dream, baby! Let him love you the way he wants to! And once again, in Natasha we trust. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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396 notes · View notes
sky-kiss · 7 months
Note
prompt: Raphael giving a genuine love confession to tav (that is unintelligible due to him being a devil…a too subtle love confesion?… maybe something that sounds like a threat or an attempt for deal for their soul? i just would like if you could show me this clown being a failure at emotions XD)
Raphael kept his word. 
There’s no ambush waiting for her in the House of Hope. It’s only Raphael, resplendent in a black silk shirt. It’s a far cry from the elegant doublet he favors, simultaneously more expensive and relaxed. Relaxed is what she fixates on; a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. The devil’s smile could nearly pass for genuine. 
He offers his arm, helping Tav into her seat. Raphael has left nothing to chance: the table is set, lavishly. The wine is rich and decadent, the finest vintages in his expansive cellar. The cost must amount to a small fortune, but the devil spares it no more than a passing thought; what Tav has provided is infinitely more valuable. 
The Crown of Karsus. The key to his freedom and his heart's desire. One thousand years of longing brought to a suitably climactic conclusion. The cambion settles into his seat with a small sigh, massaging his forehead. The nightmare will pass. He will establish himself as Archdevil Supreme. He will…
“You’re more subdued than I would have expected,” Tav says, tracing the rim of her glass. A bruise stretches from the curve of her jaw to the bridge of her nose, splotchy and ugly, a blemish on an otherwise lovely face. It must hurt; when she smiles, she winces. “No theatrics? I’d have expected an impromptu poetry recital if nothing else.” 
“Loathe as I am to disappoint you, pet, I have nothing to offer.” 
“I understand.” Tav slumps in her chair. The newly christened hero of Baldur’s Gate looks small, hair wild, bags rimming her eyes from too many sleepless nights. “It’s wonderful to reach the end. But…” The smile and its accompanying wince. “I just find myself feeling tired.” 
He dislikes seeing her like this: small, delicate, and yielding. It isn’t his mouse. His pet is fire and drive, her ambition mated to his own. The cambion hums, tapping his jaw. “And still you’d return to the Gate. You’ll play the hero.” 
Tav chuckles and finally sips the wine. He considers slipping a restorative draught into her next cup if only to deal with the damned bruise. He hates looking at it, hates seeing his toys marked by a hand other than his. “Someone has to restore the city.”
“Shall it be redemption, mouse? Striving to set right sins you barely remember?” She doesn’t respond. He knows he’s struck a nerve. In a perfect world, she’d rage at him, all her delicious fury brought to bear. Raphael cocks his head to the side. He speaks the words carefully, slowly, as if tasting a fresh dish and still determining the flavor. “Let it die, hero. Wretched as your mortality may be, it is full of such delicious potential. If you must tie a millstone around that lovely neck…” he frowns. Tav watches him, eyes narrowed, and lips pursed, as if she’s waiting. As if she expects what he’s about to say. He loathes it; the damned little thing should never have been allowed so close. “Let it be mine. Serve me.” 
“Serve you?” She laughs. “Raphael, I’ve only just reclaimed my life. Why would I put it in your hands?” 
“Why not? Have I not been reasonable? Have I not treated you well?” 
“For a devil.” Conditional approval. Fury roils in his belly. 
“You would have power and wealth. Everything a mortal desired. Under my yoke, you will be kept young and beautiful. We will dine like this every night.” 
Tav licks her lips. The House is too warm, and she is so mortal. Her eyes glitter with something. Not desire, not strictly, but something like pity. “And what? I kill your enemies? I run your errands? Warm your bed?” 
The stab of want threatens to choke him. When he speaks, it’s only just above a growl, the words rumbling through them. “Yes. Eternally.”
“Raphael.” she sighs, scrubbing a hand through her hair. Messy, like all her kin. He wants so badly to impose order. If he could only have her if she would only submit. The hero stands, crossing to him. It’s a strange twist. The mouse touches his cheek. Her skin is warm. An inane voice in his head chants to him: take her, taste her. He wants to taste her. “I should go.” 
He could make her stay, could break her. But it would taste like ash on his tongue. He holds his head high, smirking. “You will receive no better offer.” 
She doesn’t backpedal, just presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re probably right. Give them hell, devil.” 
And as is so often the case, he’s left alone. 
827 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 4 months
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE | epilogue
summary; a year later, your bond with azriel is still going just as strong. new years eve with your mate couldn't be sweeter.
word count; 3171
notes; I know this was highly anticipated, and I'm sorry it's so short, but it is just an epilogue, not a full fic! I hope this isn't too disappointing to anyone! <3
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Staring out across the beautiful cityscape of Velaris, your eyes wandered across the twinkling lights of the town. From house to house, all over the city. The rainbow was lit up even more magnificently than usual tonight, celebrations so loud you could hear them from here if you strained your ear, cheers and singing and dancing, the revelry of happy people, finally celebrating in peace after so many years of darkness. 
Beyond them, snow-capped mountains glowed under the bright moonlight and the stars, the clear sky a lucky twist of fate, as though even the Heavens wanted to be here tonight, watching. Second to Starfall, New Year's was your favourite holiday. A chance for a fresh start, to reflect on everything, to make new plans or to wipe the slate clean. To watch fireworks explode in the cold night sky, glittering and beautiful. 
Taking a sip of Rhysand’s expensive champagne from the glass in your hand, you sighed happily. As you did, a pair of strong arms circled your waist, familiar hands smoothing over your stomach, and tugging you back into a firm chest. Warm lips fell to the crook of your neck as your head fell back on his shoulder, delicate kisses dotted along your shoulder. Dropping your free hand to clasp those around your body, you traced your fingers delicately over scarred skin, eyes slipped closed in his embrace. 
“Hello, my love.” His voice was a low murmur, deep in your ear and humming along your skin. 
“Hi, Azzy.”
Turning in his arms, you looped your hands carefully around his neck, his head bowing to meet your own as he finally stole a sweet, simple kiss for your lips. He tasted like whiskey and sugar, no doubt pumped full of candy Nyx forced him to try, the small boy having kept him hostage all night. Despite it, he’d never let you out of his sights, you’d barely been out here for ten minutes before Azriel had come to find you, following you like a puppy. 
Leaning in a little further, your tongue teased along his lower lip, and he let out a soft groan as he parted them. The kisses grew, his mouth sealing over your own, passion like it was the first kiss you’d ever shared all over again, not the thousandth. Tightening your hold on him, his wings fluttered, circling your body to close out the rest of the world as he hauled you in further, up against his chest. 
Your heart was thudding in time with his own, beating in sync like they had done for just over a year now. 
Only days ago, you’d celebrated your one-year anniversary, taking a few days up at the cabin and away from every, just the two of you, no clothes, and a lot of sleepless nights. The desperation might have died down, but the infatuation still remained as strong as ever. One look, one touch, one kiss was enough to drive you crazy. You were utterly at his mercy, him just as much at yours, and you truly hoped that the intensity between you both never faded. 
He pulled back with a sigh, one more final kiss left on your lips, before he was smiling, forehead on your own. “What are you doing out here, it’s cold.”
You couldn't hep but smirk at that, brows raising a little as you looked up at him. It certainly wasn’t the coldest you’d ever been, there wasn’t even a layer of goosebumps on your exposed skin. But, he had always been a worrier, and your mate bond only seemed to enhance that, even now. “Just… thinking, that’s all.”
“Good thoughts, I hope?” He leaned in, a peck to your lips before you could even respond, and you smiled, stealing another one when he pulled back. 
“Thoughts about us.” your nose bumped his as you leaned up. You tipped your head further, pecking the tip of his nose, and he smiled sweetly. His cheeks flushed with a little warmth, the same way they always did when you gave him this kind of attention, a happy sound escaping him at that affection. 
“Care to share any of these thoughts?”
“All in due time,” You whisper in response, and he merely grunts, “Just thinking about the future.”
“I do that a lot too.”
You knew as much, Azriel had a habit of telling you. When you’d get in bed at night, his head on your chest, all the weight of him grounding you to the mattress as you played with the soft, dark curls atop his head, he’d spill about his day. All the thoughts he’d had, the jokes Cassian had told him, the things that reminded him of you, and his plans. His ideas, even the goofy ones that he knew he wouldn't actually do. 
There wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to keep to himself, and you liked to soak up every part of him that you could. 
The music from inside could reach you, even out here, a band playing beautiful songs and together, the two of you began to sway. No talk was needed but your body moved with his, your feet staying planted as you danced together gently, wrapped in one another’s embrace. His face dipped down, burying into your neck again, and he sighed happily onto your skin. 
The moment was perfect… only broken when Azriel received a small shove. 
Untangling yourselves, he glanced around, gaze dropping to the ground, to see a moody toddler, arms crossed. “Uncle Az, you said we were going to colour in my book!”
Azriel gave you an exasperated look, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, before stepping back. Leaning down, he scooped Nyx up under his arms, lifting him up into his arms. The small boy’s wings batted angrily, portraying his emotions. He truly as a little lordling, always used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 
“Alright, little bat. Come on.” Your mate sighed, adjusting the boy to sit on his hip and stepping towards the door. You watched them go, a small smile on your lips, and he turned back to look at you. “Don’t stay out here too long, love.”
You shook your head, offering your hand to him as you walked forward. His smile grew, and he took your fingers, linking them with his own and raising your clasped hands to kiss your knuckles. Leading you both inside, Nyx babbled on about the drawings he and Az would be colouring in, you were pointedly not invited at any stage of events as you made your way back to the ballroom, and Azriel rolled his eyes fondly when the youngster wasn’t looking. 
Stepping back into the bustle of the room, you glanced around, gasping happily when you spotted a familiar face and two heads of white hair in the crowd. 
Azriel only chuckled, releasing your hand and motioning for you to go, before dropping Nyx down and being led away by the hand. 
Darting through the people, Vivianne saw you just in time, a squeal on her lips as she opened her arms for you to fly into. The two of you collided gently, arms wrapping tightly around one another. 
You cupped her face, kissing both of her cheeks as she smiled, all but bouncing as you were reunited. You’d kept in touch all year, letters going back and forth so fast you could hardly keep up with them, but for one reason or another, you’d yet to have crossed paths again, life always getting in the way. Until now. 
“You’re here, you made it!”
Pulling back from her, Kallias grinned, laughing as he swept you up into a hug, your feet leaving the floor momentarily with his enthusiasm. 
“Oh, I missed you both, so much! I can’t believe it’s been a year, already.” For more than one reason, the time had flown, not just missing your friends or your time with Azriel, but so many things had taken place. “We cannot let so long go by again.”
Vivianne clutched your hands as her husband released you, her forehead coming to your own as she giggled. “We will make it our new resolutions to make it so. Besides, it should be an exciting year, we don’t want to miss a thing.”
You cocked a brow at her statement, but she didn’t expand, not as Mor was rushing over in excitement too, greeting both of them herself, and then Kallias was excusing himself as Rhysand and Helion beckoned him over. Vivianne linked her arm with your own, Mor on the other side, and turned to face you with a smirk as the blonde guided your trio through the room. 
Gathering in the kitchen, a private break away from all the noise, Mor set about preparing drinks, handing them out to you all. Vivianne smiled, cheers-ing with you both, and Mor took a heavy chug from her own as you sipped at yours. 
“Jeez, Mor! What did you put in this?” The burn of alcohol down your throat had the ice queen chuckling, putting her drink down and nudging it away from herself. 
“It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t be a buzzkill!” She chuckled, taking another gulp from her glass as though it were water. 
“I heard Mor is pouring, does that mean we’re getting fucked up?” Nesta slipped into the room, and the blonde cheered excitedly as someone matched her energy, Feyre and Elain following, arm in arm, as the youngest sister rolled her eyes. 
“Looks like Cassian will be carrying someone back home later, before the clock even strikes midnight.” Feyre tutted, but accepted a drink nonetheless as Mor poured them and began to distribute them. 
“What’s the point of having a great, big, hulking boyfriend if not to carry me home when I have fun?”
“Now that I can cheers to,” You grin, tapping your glass on her own, and she smirked. Elain laughed lightly, lifting herself onto the counter, and swinging her legs as she clutched her cup between both hands, wincing as she took that first sip. “Don’t worry, it burns your tastebuds right off after that first taste, now you won’t taste anything else for weeks.”
She giggled at Mor’s scoff, taking a sip, and the six of you gathered around into a tighter group as hushed discussion took over. 
Nesta made sure to fill everyone in on herself and Cassian. The two had no plans to truly settle down anytime soon, far too busy battling and playing with swords to even consider a child. They were going to travel some more this year, Nesta wanted to visit every Court, and while Cassian unfortunately couldn't visit them all, whether it was allergies or laws that kept him barred, he was happy to oblige for most Courts. The Winter Court became the first on her list, when Viv promised her a stay like no other, any time they wanted. 
The High Lord and Lady were battling that stage of ‘terrible twos’ with Nyx. He was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between loving mama or loving dada more, but never both. One was always the enemy. He was also jumping between desperate for a sibling, pleading and begging and fighting as he checked every Solstice box for a baby brother, and deciding if he ever saw another child in his life he’d throw a fit. Feyre had a perpetual headache, and Rhys was at the end of his tether, but both had never been happier,
Elain and Lucien were skipping between here and the human lands, repairing bonds as their bond grew ever stronger, giving Elain the perfect mixed life she’d always dreamt of. Mor and Emerie were moving into their own home, and bickering every single day on how to decorate. 
Then, there was you and Azriel.
Vivianne had chosen to avoid Mor’s attempt on everyone’s lives and had found herself something else to drink. Sipping through the straw coyly, she eyed you, and you waited. “So, you and your Az looked sweet, walking in with baby Nyx. Sweeter with your own baby on his hip, I’m sure.”
You sighed at her, raising your brows, even with the smile growing on your lips. “Not anytime soon.”
“And why not?” She pressed, her hands on her hips like your declaration had ruined her life. 
“Because… we’re taking things slow.” Stirring your drink, you stared happily into the swirling alcohol, smiling to yourself as you thought of your lover. “Took us long enough to get together, we figured we have time to savour every step.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled in that sisterly way you loved so much. “Well, alright. I can allow that. Not too slowly, I hope.”
“You’re impatient!”
“I’m excited!” She clarified, and you grinned into the rim of your glass, taking a sip. 
“And, where exactly are your little icicles, hm? You and Kallias have been together longer than Az and I.”
Instead of sniping back, and utterly lovestruck, wondrous expression passed over her features. She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and your own flew to your mouth as you gasped. “Well…” She whispered, shrugging bashfully at the shriek you made. 
“You’re serious?” Discarding your drink to the nearest surface, you rushed to her, and she lifted her bulky winter sweater. You hadn't suspected a thing before, but now, as she revealed her stomach, you could see the slight bump forming. She took your wrist, lifting your hand, and your eyes watered as you looked between her face and your hand on her warm skin. “I can’t believe it!”
Everyone crowded in, then. A thousand questions were being fired at the elated new mother-to-be, who was happy to answer every single one, showing off the bump she was beginning to grow. 
Nyx would get that new playmate after all, taking a little of the weight off of Feyre and Rhys, with an heir to the Winter Court at last. Stepping back to let everyone else have their moment too, you leaned back on the counter, smiling at the love and excitement surrounding you at every turn. 
A tugging on the bond pulled your attention away, and a haze fell over everything as the feeling in your chest sharpened to full focus. Smiling to yourself, you rubbed absently at the spot where you could feel your love. Tugging back, the thread between you both vibrated contentedly, and you could feel his happy hum on your skin, the trace of phantom arms around your waist.
“Needy thing, your mate, isn’t he?” Feyre’s voice sliced through the bubble, and she was leaning on the counter beside you. “Do you think it’s an Illyrian thing?”
“Hmm.” You smirked, “Potentially. I can barely get a moment away before he’s pulling along the rope to find me.” You made sure the notion reached him, a warning burst reaching your chest, teasing and light, like a nip to the shell of your ear, and you shuddered. 
“Let’s go find our needy Illyrians, hm?” Her arm laced through your own, following the steps Nesta had not long taken. 
Hidden in the back of the room, Rhysand was spread across a couch, his son sleepily yawning in his lap as he tried to stay awake, while Azriel and Cassian both sat in the low-backed armchairs before the roaring fire. He never had to glance up to feel you coming, raising a hand to his shoulder at the same time you reached out to him, leaning over the chair from behind and kissing the top of his head. 
He pulled you around the chair and across his lap, nuzzling at your cheek as needy kisses trailed from your cheek to your mouth, and you grinned, turning to face him and rewarding him with a single kiss. He didn’t seem too satisfied with that, a glint in his eyes promising more was to come, but he let you adjust comfortably across him. 
“What did you ladies talk about?”
“I can’t tell you that, Az, or it wouldn't be girl talk, would it?” Your words had his eyes narrowing, calculated gaze fixed on you, “What did you boys talk about?”
“Can’t tell you that, baby, or it wouldn't be guy talk.” He retorted, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your jaw in his hand as a response, twisting your smushed face back to him and kissing you. He was smirking as he pulled back, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Kal and Viv, right?”
You caved to his charms, smiling as you shared the same space, wrapped up in him, “Mhm.”
He only smiled, nothing more needing to be said between the pair of you. 
“Viv asks when it’ll be us. Says we looked good walking in, hand in hand, Nyx on your hip.” Azriel’s eyes snapped open, straightening up as he put several inches between you both. Your hand smoothed up his chest, settling on his neck, trying to suppress your laughter. His pulse raced under your palm, your hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. “Relax, Azzy. I told her how we’re taking things slow, at our own pace.”
“But— But… I mean— It’s not like I’m opposed to it, but—” He sputtered over his words, and you kissed him silent, his shaky kisses returned with vigour, the trembling bond between you both settling steadily again. 
“We have things to do first, I’m in no rush to move through our milestones. I want you all to myself, for a little while longer.” You pulled him back in, kissing across his cheek, lips travelling to his ear, “And when I say that, I mean it.”
Despite it being whispered, Rhysand still hurled a mental stone at your walls, snickering to himself at your gasp as he eavesdropped on your private dig at him. Turning around, you glared, flipping him off mentally. He smirked, sipping his drink and patting his son between the wings as the small boy slumped asleep over his thighs. 
Turning away, you sealed yourself back into the haze with Azriel, his mouth travelling along your jaw, your head tipped back.
“Must we really wait until midnight before I can kiss you properly, Azzy?”
“I suppose, we could be early for once in our lives. Kiss me now, we’ll pretend it’s midnight.” He whispered, a lazy smile on his face when you looked at him. He was so beautiful, the man who owned your heart was like a work of art, watching you with such sweet love that it made you want to melt. 
“I love you, Azriel.” You whispered onto his lips, lessening the gap between you both, and a content sound rumbled free from his chest. 
“I love you, my dear. To another year, another decade, century, with you.”
“To forever, together.” You finalised, and he nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as a flood of his emotions overwhelmed you from your words. 
“Forever sounds like a wonderful place to start.”
644 notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 3 months
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could you pretend to be in love? (03/10)
The Complicity
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: the time has finally come and you together with Aemond pretend the relationship taking into account the aspects of the previous contract.
word count: 7.1k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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is already here!
God, I had so much fun writing this and absolutely loved it. hope you enjoy it too, I loved it and will look forward to your opinions. there is still much more to come, so look forward for it🤭
thank you for reading and enjoy!❤
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It takes no time at all to see Aemond's car pull up in front of your house.
Pursing your lips and you already feel the nerves tensing your body. You adjust the strap of your backpack on your shoulder and say goodbye to your father, then leave your house and head towards the car.
Aemond has already rolled down the passenger seat window and keeps a small grin on his lips as he watches you, but you deliberately ignore him and especially that grin on his face.
But what you don't ignore is his car. It's too modern and expensive, exactly what you would expect from him. Besides it's his style, black and extremely clean. And when you get in and settle into the seat, the interior smells like him, rich, masculine and nice.
"Hey," you say to him, as you close the door and fasten your seat belt.
"Hey," he returns your greeting, watching you intently, "How are you?"
You frown, slightly confused by his question.
"I'm good," you say nonchalantly, "You?"
"All good, yes," he nods, letting his hand rest on the steering wheel. Then he watches you carefully, now with some hesitation, "Are you ready?"
"Hmm... yeah, I guess," you reply, nervous and hesitant, trying to appear normal, as you absently place your backpack on your lap, "Just..." you watch him pleadingly, reminding him, "When you're going to do something, you know... in front of everyone, let me know."
He puts back his soft smile, starting the car.
"Yes, ma'am."
The car starts up, an awkward silence developing in the air, where at first you both look for something to say to break the silence, but eventually you become immersed in your own thoughts.
And you at all times try to control your nerves and prepare yourself more mentally for everything that is coming today... and also for the next almost five months.
The music on the radio eases that slight tension between the two of you but when you least expect it, Aemond arrives and parks in the school parking lot, which is flooding with students.
"Thanks for the ride," you say, unbuckling your belt and he gives you a soft look.
"It's nothing, don't worry," he replies calmly.
You exhale deeply, peering through the windows of his car at the students outside, immersed in their groups of friends or their own worlds. But you know that soon enough all the attention will fall on you and him, so you continue to fight it, the nerves.
"So..." you return your gaze to him, attentive, "What exactly are we going to do now?"
"We just have to walk to the building together," he points to you as if it's the simplest thing in the world, which it is, but now you're both a 'couple', "We'll hold hands, I can walk you to your locker, we'll play a little, and then we'll head to our classes. Nothing more."
As simple as it sounds in his words, the prospect of performing as a couple in public makes you feel a mixture of nerves and anxiety. But you don't really have a choice so you just nod and go back to watching everyone out there one last time.
When you suddenly feel his warm hand place on top of yours, an unexpected gesture that surprises you and makes you focus on him again.
"Hey, I'm with you, okay?" he says softly, "You're not alone. And I promise you that everything will be fine, nothing bad is going to happen," he assures you, "You just need to relax, let yourself go and follow my lead. That way it will be easier, I assure you."
He tells you as his gaze conveys a sense of trust and understanding, wanting to reassure you in the midst of your nerves, reassuring you that everything will be okay, supporting you.
And even though you still feel a little nervous, with the assurance he conveys in every thing he says and every gesture, you decide to trust his words, managing to comfort you just enough.
Then he gives you a few more seconds, understanding that you should feel completely calm and finally you put the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, deciding that you want to get started and also get this over with once and for all.
"Ready?" he asks you with his reassuring look.
You nod, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.
"Yeah, I'm good."
He nods too and finally you both get out of the car. And as soon as the two of you step foot outside, a few glances land on you and Aemond.
You wait for him to circle the car and once at your side, without hesitation your fingers intertwine with his, where as you watch his face, you find that assurance he seeks to convey to you, assuring you that everything will be okay.
And together, you begin to walk towards the main school building.
Aemond's presence at your side offers you comfort as you see hoy everyone looks at you, looks of surprise and curiosity, all watching you both attentively.
And at the same time you see how among the same groups of boys and girls talk to each other, seeming to wonder about seeing the two of you together.
At this, as you advance, you swallow hard and try to control your nervous look and keep your composure, also the slight fear you feel inside you and your heart that beats strongly, aware that every step you take is closely followed by the looks of everyone.
And as you feel the slight squeeze Aemond gives your hand with his, he gives you that small comfort amidst all the stares and emotions that invade you and you internally thank him for his gesture.
So you decide to concentrate on the comforting touch of his hand intertwined with yours, reminding you that you are not alone and you follow his lead, remembering his words from the beginning.
He, in comparison to you, seems serene and confident in all of this.
And despite the discomfort you felt with him at first and wanting to run away from him, now his presence begins to be comforting and you feel that you will panic if he leaves your side now.
And with every step you both take, you seem to attract more stares, as if you are a magnet for attention. There seems to be no end to the amount of curious stares on both of you, and that feeling increases more as you both walk deeper into the bustling hallways of the school.
You just hear the constant buzz of conversations and the attention focused on both of you becomes even more apparent. But regardless, you follow Aemond's lead, letting him guide you through all this overwhelming attention.
Eventually you both reach your locker and he stays by your side, as you begin to grab the books you will need today and people continue to watch you.
"It's a good start," Aemond says next to you, leaning toward you just so you can hear him.
"Only if you like the attention," you mention.
"Please, it's not so bad either," he says and leans closer to you, where with delicate gesture he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, watching you intently, beginning to act on the plan.
His movement catches you a little off guard, but you play along. You lean your body towards him, trying to keep a relaxed face and put a discreet smile.
"The whole school is watching us."
"Exactly what we wanted or not?" he says to then drop a kiss on your forehead that also takes you by surprise but you continue to skillfully feign, "And you're doing great."
A real genuine smile settles on your lips and you continue to organize your backpack as Aemond takes one of your hands and begins to trace it with his fingertips, then absentmindedly and also discreetly observes around him.
It is true that everyone is watching you both, but what catches his attention is seeing his ex-girlfriend, Alys, in this same hallway with her group of friends also watching.
You can't read much of his gaze, as he focuses back on you, especially when you finally close your locker door and give him your full attention, as he places a small smile on his lips.
He pulls you into his body as he leans against the back lockers, hugging you and placing you between his legs, and you let him, as obviously everyone is watching you at that moment.
"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"
He whispers into your face and you open your mouth to speak, instantly lifting your face up to him to watch him, but when you least expect it, he is already kissing you.
You stifle a slight gasp in the middle of the kiss, feeling one of Aemond's hands gently caress your cheek and the other he keeps it on your waist, pulling you closer to him in a gentle way, as he presses his lips against yours gently and carefully, almost adoringly.
His lips feel soft and warm, so you kiss him back as best you can, closing your eyes and letting your hands rest on his chest.
Thankfully there's no movement and it's just pressing lips against lips, but the kiss is prolonged, Aemond more than anything else wanting to make sure everyone sees.
And when you both pull apart, he keeps his smile and his hands on your body as you try to disguise the surprise and daze.
"I'll see you at break," he says, letting go of your body slowly.
"Sure," you nod and smile, aware that more people are watching.
"Everything will be fine and if anything happens, text me," he tells you softly before separating you from his body and you nod again, feeling grateful again.
He leaves one last kiss on your forehead before he walks away, giving you one last comforting look. You watch as he walks away down the hallway, heading to his first class, just as the bell rings throughout the school.
So now feeling all eyes on you, you too quickly head towards your first class too.
And from that moment on, everything explodes.
The only topic of conversation going around the school is how the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school, Aemond Targaryen, is dating you, a girl not entirely... known.
You also hear how he and Alys' breakup is briefly mentioned, they also talk about how she cheated on him and that's when you come in... you and this unexpected news of the two of you dating.
It's clear that no one was expecting it, so there are a lot of questions as well. And eventually, the questioning begins.
"Y/N?" asks Aegon, confused, watching his younger brother intently, "And who is Y/N? I've never heard of her."
"Aegon, that doesn't matter," interjects Helaena, watching him grimly.
"She's my girlfriend," Aemond declares with a firm tone as he puts away some books in his locker.
"What matters is why you never told us anything... until now that the whole school knows too," Helaena says, confused, "We didn't even know you were interested in anyone after—
"That crazy of Alys," Aegon interrupts, not even bothering to lower the tone of his voice, also looking at Aemond with confusion.
Aemond looks up from his locker, noting back the questioning looks from his brother and sister.
"The thing with Alys is over," he says nonchalantly, "We both ended badly, she got satisfaction from it, I moved on and now I met someone new, what's wrong with that?"
Helaena exchanges a glance with Aegon and crosses her arms over her chest.
"No Aem, there's nothing wrong with it," she clarifies to him in a soft tone, "But at least you could have told us before the whole school found out."
"Yeah," Aegon says beside her, supporting her in her words, "And you never mentioned her," he says still with his confused face and tone, "Why?"
Aemond exhales deeply, feeling the pressure of they stares and questions, trying to keep his face composed.
"I've known her for a while."
He begins to say, clearly lying but trying to hear himself sound as convincing as possible, understanding that he must later tell Y/N about this if they and anyone else ask her the same question.
"She's in almost all the same classes as me. We did some projects together, started talking, hanging out a few times and well... things happened really fast. Even I didn't expect it, neither did she and it just happened, you know?"
Aegon watches him curiously, while Helaena examines him with full attention.
"And mom knows?"
"No, she doesn't," he says instantly, attentive and alert, "And listen, please don't tell her anything yet."
"Why not?" Aegon says confused, "She is your girlfriend and she should know her, no?"
"Yes, but we've just started dating and I want to give her a little more time until she's ready," he says in a soft, almost pleading tone, watching them both carefully, "I don't want to rush things more than they've already been rushed, so please.... let me tell mom when I've talked to Y/N."
Both are silent for a few seconds, where again the two exchange glances, and then Aegon nods in his direction with a more disinterested and more typical Aegon look. And Helaena, after analyzing his words, nods as well.
"Fine but be sure to tell her soon. You know how mom is with this sort of thing and if you let too much time pass, she'll be upset with you."
"Yes, I will, I promise."
Again silence engulfs the three of them and after a few seconds, Aegon breaks the silence with a smile.
"Well, now I want to meet my little brother's new girlfriend."
"Me too," nods Helaena, "Even without knowing her I already like her better than the witch."
Aegon lets out a laugh and Aemond just rolls his eye with an amused look.
"I'll try to talk to her if I see her," Helaena adds.
Shit.
Aemond thinks instantly.
"Fine but don't ask her too many questions, don't harass her and I'll find out if you tell her about my embarrassing stories," he warns her, "Same goes for you," he points to Aegon as well.
"Easy," he tells him confused, raising his hands in surrender, "I just want to meet my sister-in-law."
"Yes but watch that mouth," he warns him once more, "I'll see you later."
He closes his locker, the three of them say goodbye and he heads off to his next class, leaving behind his siblings and the growing curiosity that hasn't stopped from the other students in the hallway.
Certainly the news of his new relationship spreads quickly throughout the school, creating a buzz of gossip among all the hallways, because when he met with his friends, they too question him about the unexpected news.
The same goes for you, that even though you have no friends, or at least not close ones, when you are in the library, someone unexpectedly question you about your... 'boyfriend'.
"So...
A voice begins to speak in your direction and you look up, meeting Alysanne Blackwood, a classmate just as introverted and quiet as you, sitting at the other end of the huge table you're sitting at.
"Who knew you liked rich, popular boys," she says with a small smile.
"Oh... hi Alysanne," you say, putting a small smile, discreetly ignoring her comment.
That doesn't stop her, however, as she rises from her seat and takes her place in front of you, completely commanding your attention with her energetic presence.
"The truth is, I never imagined seeing you with someone like Aemond, "she says, evidently trying to start a conversation on the subject, "I never even saw you two talking together before."
And there you start to feel the knot of nerves in your stomach as you try to find the right words to explain the unexpected situation.
"The truth is, it was all very... discreet and... unexpected," you say, starting to think fast to come up with something convincing.
"And I bet Alys freaked out," she say with an amused smile, "God, I would have paid to see her face. She obviously wouldn't expect to see her ex with you."
You cocked your head to the side, watching her with curiosity and some confusion.
"Don't get me wrong, it's obvious that you and I are similar but a different type of girls like Alys," she explains, "So of course she must have been furious."
"Oh, um... I really don't know," you reply with a shrug. "I didn't notice if she saw us when the whole school did."
"Oh believe me," she says without wiping off her smile, "She did see you and she's furious," she assures you, "And that's okay because she deserves it. I can't stand her and I can't stand her stupid group of pretty girls who don't have a single neuron in their brains."
Alysanne, with her playful smile, seems to enjoy the awkwardness you find yourself in, so she leans a little closer to you, as if sharing a secret.
"Anyway, how do you feel about it? With Aemond, I mean," she asks, changing the tone of the conversation.
"Oh, well... he's different, I guess," you admit, searching for the right words, "I didn't know him much before this, but he's kind, funny, and.... yeah, different."
God, this is harder than I thought.
Talking about Aemond in this way is not entirely untrue, as he is nice and a little funny, but only a little. But still, you don't really know him and you think that's what you both need, to get to know each other better.
And that way, maybe this won't cost you too much.
"Well, at least you're not hating it. Although, truth be told, I think it's refreshing to see you dating someone outside of your comfort zone. And I'm also saying this from my own experience, it's... rewarding."
You watch her more interested than before, a little surprised.
"You have a boyfriend now?"
"Nah, it's been a while since we broke up," he says with a disinterested gesture, "But that's what he left me with and I hope you enjoy it, just don't be afraid."
She tells you and that particularly gets your attention more.
"And by the way, if you need advice on how to deal with girls like Alys, you know where to find me," she adds with a soft laugh.
Despite the strange situation and the fact that your talking about your 'relationship', when it's not even real, her words make you feel something and you realize that the conversation with her has become more enjoyable.
And you also realize that maybe you are not so alone in this unexpected moment of your school life.
So classes go by normally, you don't really see Aemond much, except in the hallways and when lunchtime comes, you take a seat alone at one of the cafeteria tables and turn your back on all the piercing stares.
"Hey, babe."
You raise your gaze and Aemond has a radiant smile on his face, turning animatedly toward you.
You place your best smile towards him, especially since there are still many pairs of eyes watching you, especially the eyes of Alys and her entire group of friends, who haven't stopped watching you as if they were going to kill you with their gaze since you arrived.
Aemond leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a seat next to you, creating a space of privacy between the two of you, making sure no one else hears what he will say.
"How have you been?" you ask him, popping a strawberry into your mouth.
"Great. Everything is going perfectly, everyone is believing us and I hear Alys is furious and dead jealous," he says, with his little smile, "I've played her same game and now she knows how it feels. And the next few weeks will only get even better."
"As long as you keep me out of it, it's fine," you decide to joke, focusing on your food.
And when he answers your silence, you look back at him and he's watching you with a seriousness that isn't quite true. You let out a small laugh and he taps his shoulder lightly with yours, smiling.
"What are you talking about?" he asks you playfully, "Of course you'll be in for it."
You both share a brief complicit chuckle and he takes a strawberry from your bowl and savors it with a satisfied expression, then gives you a playful look.
"I'm actually enjoying this more than I thought I would. We seem to have caused a little of a commotion here," he says, averting his gaze to the bustle of the cafeteria.
"A little commotion?" you repeat, incredulous, "I think more like a big commotion, Aemond."
"Oh, and also..." he begins to say, more serious and in a lower tone, leaning towards you, "Aegon and Hel have already asked me some questions," he says, catching your full attention, "So if they try to talk to you, just say that we met and started talking in class. Also, that everything between us happened very fast and we decided to be discreet, nothing more."
And even though it's nothing difficult or anything out of this world, you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the sudden complexity of the situation. You also can't help the nerves in you.
Being part of all these lies and still having to create more lies, that's what makes you uneasy and you feel that in the moment you will ruin everything. And Aemond seems to read your thoughts, noticing your slightly worried expression.
"I know that they can be a bit nosy, I know that and I'm sorry. But it would have been too risky to tell them the truth and—
"No, no, it's not that, Aemond," you interrupt him instantly, "I just feel nervous and a little... scared," you confess, "I feel like I'll ruin everything if your sister or brother talk to me, because of the nerves, but I'm sure I can handle it."
"Yes, of course," he nods, nonchalant and speaking to you in a soft tone, taking one of your hands to entwine with his, "Just... if they ask you something specific, wing it, but keep the story general. I know you'll be able to do it."
You nod in his direction, his soft, comforting gaze making you feel better and more capable of being able to handle this. When you remember an also very important point.
"And you asked them not to say anything to your family?"
"Oh yeah, that too, yeah," he nods, "Don't worry, it wasn't hard. So we're good with that."
"Good," you say relieved.
You don't let go of his hand and go back to focusing on your food, while he stands next to you and watches you silently, saying absolutely nothing, watching you with a soft, calm gaze and trying to transmit that love just by watching you.
And his gaze on you while you eat starts to make you feel uneasy, so you watch him and put on a small nervous smile, not understanding the way he is looking at you.
Actually you do know but just like him, you have to play.
"What?"
Aemond lifts both corners of his lips a little higher.
"Everyone is looking at us," he says expectantly, in a low, soft voice, glancing around for a second to refocus on you.
And you roll your eyes playfully.
"I told you not to abuse that."
"But you said at extremely necessary times and right now seems like an extremely necessary time to me... love."
And there it is again, those nicknames that make you feel weird and Aemond enjoys watching you shiver at those words, smiling playfully.
"And I think it's only fair that now you're the one kissing me."
"You know, I'm already regretting this."
"I'm waiting," he says expectantly, never taking his eyes off you attentively for a second.
And you roll your eyes again and then lean into him with no choice and leave a soft kiss on his lips, in front of everyone, which he reciprocates instantly, only increasing his smile even more when you pull away from him.
"Thank you, love."
"Please," you look at him pleadingly, "Stop saying that."
He lets out a small laugh.
"Whatever you say, love."
You stare at him for a second and then he goes back to stealing one of your strawberries.
"By the way, wouldn't you rather go to lunch with my friends?" he points to the table of his friends who also belong to the lacrosse team, "They've also asked me about us. And I think having lunch with them, will make it all more believable."
You let out a long breath.
"It doesn't have to be now," he hasten to say.
"No, no, it's fine," you assure him, "I think it will make the relationship more believable too."
"Okay, but we have to stay here, at least for this day," he says, enjoying all the attention and you don't fight it, "Oh, and before I forget this, I have a match on Friday."
Oh no.
So soon?
You can't help but think, watching him completely intently.
"Really?" you ask starting to feel nervous and you don't even know why.
"Yeah, obviously you have to go and support me, shout my name, some cheers and all that," he says visibly excited, "The whole school is attending, so Alys will be there too," he says quietly.
"You also want me to wear a T-shirt with your last name on it and carry signs with your name on it like in the movies?"
He lets out a laugh.
"I'd actually love to see that," he says more excited than before.
"Aemond, I-I really don't know how to act at that kind of thing. I don't even know if I'll do it right...and if it looks too forced?"
And then there he again takes advantage of everyone watching you to place his hand over yours.
"Listen, there's no right or wrong way to do it. Just be yourself. There are no exaggerated expectations and it's not about impressing anyone, least of all me. I just want you to be there and let's have a good time together. Also at the party."
"Wait, what?" you inquire, "There's going to be a party after the game?"
"Hmm," he nods, "At my friend's house, you know...for celebration when we win."
"And if you don't win?"
"Even so, the party will be held," he says with a shrug, "A way to lift our spirits and better prepare us for the next game."
Of course, typical.
"And if I don't go to the party?" you try to persuade him with a worried expression.
"Y/N," he tells you with a serious look, "Remember our contract?"
"You're seriously bringing that to this?" you reproach him.
"Yes because it's in the contract," he tells you with a playful look, making it clear that he won't let you get off that easy.
And you sigh with resignation.
"But I don't think—
"Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun," he tries to encourage you, "And if at any point you feel uncomfortable, I promise we'll leave. What do you say? Sounds good?"
And even with the discomfort through your body, you nod, since you know there's no way around it.
"Fine," you murmur.
Aemond nods with a small smile.
"I'm sure it'll be fun, you'll see."
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The rest of the week is spent with the stares and whispers intensifying whenever you and Aemond are seen together in the hallways or anywhere in the school.
Even the stares are not discreet, boys and girls stop in their conversations to stare at you as you walk by and when you move on to your respective classes, the attention seems to follow you, also in the cafeteria, when you and Aemond enjoy your lunches together, everyone stares at you.
It becomes annoying and also overwhelming for you, as you not only deal with the stares of all the students, but you especially deal with the stares of Alys Rivers and that of all her friends.
They are like hawks looking to melt the back of your head with every death stare. You feel like you're the prey and you don't doubt that they must surely say horrible things about you.
But honestly, Aemond has somehow helped you endure it.
In the cafeteria you are not alone, as you follow his idea of sitting at the table with him and his friends, who turn out to be very nice and funny, so their occurrences make you feel more comfortable during the whole break and lunch, forgetting for a moment about the stares and whispers.
Also Aemond never takes his hands off you, wanting to hug you and hold your hand all the time, wanting to make the relationship look as genuine as possible, this also distracting you.
And in those moments you just realize how you really hate being the center of attention, especially since the school seems to be watching your every move.
And you and Aemond couldn't agree more on the huge commotion you both have caused.
When the weekend finally arrives just as quickly as the day the match will take place, where you immediately decide to ask Alysanne for help getting ready, since you don't have a clue how to do it and make it look good.
Your dad is still at work, so you and Alysanne in your room make as much noise as you want, while she picks out your makeup and you put on some black jeans and the dark blue with white team shirt you borrowed from Aemond with his last name and player number printed on it.
And Alysanne, in her friendly and honest spirit, is excited to help.
"It looks great on you," she comments as she watches you adjust your shirt so it's not baggy, "Although I honestly don't understand why people like to attend these types of games. It's too boring for me."
"Yeah, for me too, but nothing I wouldn't do for Aemond," you mention like the girlfriend in love you supposedly are with him.
"Now come here."
You take a seat and she stands up, instantly helping you place Aemond's initials with blue paint on each of your cheeks, AT, while you finish touching up the rest of your makeup and also your hairstyle.
And when you're both done, Alysanne has something else for you.
"Now you're missing this," she announces, taking from her backpack something.
And when she holds it out to you, you confusedly take a cheerleader pom-pom.
"And what's this for?"
"What do you mean, what for? To support your boyfriend, obviously," she says incredulously, "I have one too," she announces proudly, taking another from her backpack.
"And where did you get them?" you ask inspecting it in your hand.
"I stole them from a girl who's on the cheerleading squad. I don't like her so I said, why not?"
You look at her still confused for a few moments, especially after that statement, but you decide not to give the matter any more thought and focus on what really matters, which in fact is already too much for your head.
So ready, you observe yourself in the mirror.
"I look like an idiot," you say as you look at yourself, "I've never done this before."
Alysanne laughs softly.
"Oh, dear, that's because you're an idiot in love. And also because it's the things love makes you do."
But you're not really in love with Aemond and that makes this whole thing even harder.
And that not being enough, she teaches you some pom-pom waving moves and suggests some simple cheers to cheer on the team and Aemond more than anything else. And even though you shouldn't, you can't help yourself and take a good few minutes practicing all that.
And finally you both leave your house in the direction of the school.
You've never been to one of these games before either, so when you and Alysanne arrive, the lacrosse field is full of energy and excitement as you both find seats in the stands.
The truth is you know absolutely nothing about how lacrosse works, it was never something you were interested in but if Aemond is now your 'boyfriend', you know you'll have to pay attention.
So in the meantime you do what everyone else does, like clapping and... nothing else.
"Girl, what are you doing? You're supposed to be cheering for your boyfriend!"
Alysanne yells at you above all the other yelling, shaking her own cheerleading pom-pom with the moves she taught you earlier.
"I know but I feel... embarrassed," you confess, "I've never done this. Besides... they haven't stopped staring at me since I got here."
"Who?" she asks you confused and attentive.
You point discreetly behind you and Alys along with her group of friends are a few seats over from where you stand with Alysanne, who snorts in amusement.
"Please, do they really intimidate you?"
"No," you lie a little, shrugging, "I just don't like that they're looking at me like they're going to kill me at every turn."
When you arrived they all inspected you from head to toe with questioning, mocking and expectant looks, which ended up destroying your confidence.
But Alysanne nudges you lightly and snorts derisively.
"Ignore them. They are not important. What's important is over there," she points her index finger at the lacrosse field, pointing at Aemond, "You're here to support him, not worry about poisonous snakes. So let's start yelling and supporting your boyfriend with the cheers I taught you, got it?"
You let out a sigh and finally nod with a resigned gesture.
You force yourself to concentrate as much as you can on the match, you also tell yourself that you're here to support Aemond and not to deal with the stares from his ex-girlfriend and her whole group of friends.
As well as you push away the idea in your mind that you feel weird and uncomfortable with that if you shout Aemond's name, everyone will notice and see you.
And you immerse yourself along with Alysanne and everyone else at the game in the charged atmosphere of anticipation and the screams of the crowd mingling with the air.
The whistle blows, marking the start of the match and Aemond and his team are in action as well as the opposing team, all moving nimbly around the field.
The game is fast and dynamic, you don't understand but you watch as Aemond stands out on the field, showing his skill. He and his team perform coordinated movements, well-executed strategies and impressive resistance against the opposing team.
And without paying any more attention to Alys gaze, you immerse yourself in the atmosphere of the game, clap and cheer along with Alysanne.
She encourages you to shout his name and that's what you do. You follow Aemond's every move intently, cheering with enthusiasm, jumping in place along with Alysanne, waving the stolen pom-pom along with her and shouting with fervor.
You feel more of Alys and her friends' gaze behind you, but you ignore it completely and concentrate on the game.
And as the game progresses, Aemond begins to notice your animated efforts from a distance. You can't see his face because of his protective helmet but he smiles when he sees you jumping, waving the pom-pom and shouting his name.
Your choice to wear his shirt with his last name and number, his initials painted on your cheeks, and the cheerleader pom-pom, all don't go unnoticed by him. He's honestly flattered and grateful that you actually did it.
And you and Alysanne keep cheering, both of you fully immersing yourselves in the intense and competitive atmosphere.
You don't know how much time passes until finally the referee blows the whistle. And since you don't understand lacrosse at all and had to pretend you knew what was going on, you just know they've won.
Thunderous applause and cheers break out in the crowd, and Aemond and his teammates celebrate on the field.
Alysanne gives you a friendly nudge as you both make your way to the corner of the field where the players are standing. And Aemond, instantly looking for you among all the people, when he finds you, with an expression of triumph trots over to you.
His gaze sweeps over you from head to toe, his smile engulfing you, as he removes his helmet and you smile and clap in his direction.
"You've won!" you exclaim happily.
He doesn't take off his smile and hugs you tightly, to which you reciprocate, trying to get that 'love' in front of everyone like in the movies of the couple of a boy captain of the team and the cheerleader girl.
You're not a cheerleader with a stolen pom-pom in hand but it's something like that.
"You look amazing," he says in your ear.
You let out a nervous laugh, as you both pull apart and Aemond, subtly seeing that everyone is watching you, keeps his hand on your waist, leans in and leaves a soft kiss on your lips, sealing the victory.
Obviously you can't blame him since everyone is watching and you place your hand on his cheek, reciprocating his kiss as everyone around you continues to celebrate in the stands and on the lacrosse field.
Once you both separate, you just notice more how everyone is watching you and you can't help but be a little embarrassed by this, feeling too many stares on you which in comparison, Aemond doesn't mind at all.
He tells you he's going to go change and talk to his coach, you nod, he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and trots off back to the field with his teammates and you're left alone.
You hug yourself and look around briefly, then walk over to Alysanne, feeling a little overwhelmed.
And God, maybe this is costing you more than you imagined.
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"You were fantastic, everyone was looking at us," Aemond says excitedly, driving, "And your outfit just made it all the more believable."
"Yeah," you let out a small laugh, "Alys and her whole group of friends kept judging me. But this just further confirms to us the fact that this is working."
He lets out a sigh.
"Alys has always been like that, she always has to judge someone to feel superior. She even did it with me during the time we were dating too."
He says with a disinterested tone and you look at him slightly surprised, not expecting to hear that.
"But if she makes you more uncomfortable to the point that you can't even stand it anymore, please tell me," he tells you more seriously, "She'll be at the party too and I don't plan to leave you alone but I'm telling you... you know, so you won't be surprised."
"I'm sure I can handle it, but yeah, I'll tell you," you tell him softly, nodding.
"Good," he nods too, not taking his eye off the road.
Right now he's driving to his friend's house where the party will be. You invited Alysanne and offered her to come along with you and Aemond, but she told you she's not a fan of parties and in fact she's had enough of the game.
So she ordered an Uber and went home. And you don't blame her. As much as you would have loved for her to have come to help you survive the party, she already helped you a lot before and after the game.
"So you understood the game?"
He asks you, summing up the game conversation, with a smirk. And you let out a snort with a mocking, incredulous look.
"No," you confess, "I don't really know anything about sports. I just know that on that play of yours in the second half it was awesome because everyone was talking about it," you let him know.
He lets out a laugh.
"Don't worry, I'll teach you."
"I just know you were great. I don't know exactly what you were great at but you were great," you say sincerely, "And I was great too, as much as I hate it, but did you see my animated cheer?"
"Yeah, it was amazing," he says just as honestly as you, only more enthusiastic, "But there was something missing from your whole outfit."
You frown.
"What?"
"The sign with my name on it like in the movies," he says and you snort again, as he laughs, "I would have loved to see that."
"One step at a time, Captain. It was already too much for me to fulfill my role as a cheerleader girlfriend supporting her boyfriend."
"I really enjoyed it," he says, watching you for a moment with complicity.
"As long as there aren't any more games so soon, I think I can handle it."
"And what about the parties?" he teases you.
"Let's correct the contract, because I think I'm only going to accompany you to one party per month. So that will be five parties total during the whole farse, but with this one that makes four."
"Oh yeah? Then I think I'm only going to drive you to school once a month, so that will be five rides total during the whole farse, but since three days have already passed where I've done you the favor, now you only have two left."
"That's not fair!"
"Oh I think it's more than fair."
You both sink into soft laughter and the conversation between the two during the ride is light, talking about the match and the farce more than anything else.
Until finally Aemond arrives in the neighborhood where his friend's house is located and soon enough he parks near the house, where from this distance you hear the music and also see other cars parking and boys along with girls walking down the street heading towards the party.
You let out a sigh as you anticipate all the people already inside the house and how the party must be, as you and Aemond unbuckle your seatbelts.
"Well, are you ready?" he watches you slightly expectantly and with a soft look.
"Promise you really won't leave me alone," you urge him once again, serious.
"I promise," he says honestly, making pinky promise with you, "But here we must be together and I mean really together. Pretend we're crazy about each other. Remember, in places like these, a couple never stops being all over each other, so we have to pretend and pretend real good."
You swallow hard and he gives you a reassuring look, while you take a few seconds and finally nod. You place a softer face and lightly bite the inside of your cheek.
"Yeah, okay, I get it," you say softly, licking your lips.
"I'm not going to leave you alone. I'm going to be with you always," he assures you one last time before getting out of the car.
And you let out a heavy sigh, you get out of the car as well.
The pretending isn't over yet and this time, you're sure you and Aemond are going to take it to the next level. And it's still a lot to process but reluctantly and because you signed a contract, you enter the party together with him.
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taglist:
@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes
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kisses4lao · 6 months
Text
Pov local Lin Kuei ninja gets FUCKED!!!! REAL NOT CLICK BAIT!!!!!
Bi Han x fem!reader LMAO (ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE!!!! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT AND IF YOU CONTINUE AND YOU GET UPSET THATS A YOU PROBLEM)
Tw/cw: arranged marriage!trope, fem!reader, praise, possibly ooc bi han, bi hans raging daddy issues, breeding kink, SLOW BURN!!!!!, mentions of blood and injuries, soft sex, piv, pwp, probably like really fucking long, bi han is really soft, simp bi han but not at first, unprotected sex, creampie, he eats pussy like his life depends on it, oh yeah cunnilingus, missionary, cursing
Not proofread eat my ass
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Growing up as Madam Bo's granddaughter had its perks, but it most definitely had strings attached.
You had practically gotten everything you wanted growing up, but at the expense that you had to marry the head ninja of the Lin Kuei, Bi Han. His father, the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei had made a deal with Madam Bo; if she gave you to him, she'd have the best of protection and his oath for the rest of her life. It was something she couldn't pass up on.
After she had practically sold you to the man she made sure you knew how to be a good wife. Knowing how to cook and clean being one of the main things she taught you. She knew you didn't want this, so she tried her hardest to make life for you better. She would buy you anything you wanted but nothing helped.
Once you and Bi Han were officially 18, you had gotten legally married. Luckily Madam Bo let you have some liberty in the ceremony to try and alleviate some stress. However, once the knowledge that you had just been legally bound with a man you had just met set in, absolutely nothing could make you feel better.
You had no idea what kind of man he was. Was he a rude man? Would he make you do things you weren't ready for? Walking down the aisle suddenly became a lot harder as you started to feel lightheaded. Finally getting to stand in front of him for the first time made you feel disgusting. How could your own grandmother do this to you? You practically have nothing ahead of you as far as life goes except for this.
You felt so betrayed you couldn't even look him in the eyes. Every time he tried to touch you you'd shutter and pull away. The party afterwards was a mess, too. You were sitting next to him as you'd poke at your food, not having enough energy to eat. Bi Han wouldn't eat either, he would just observe the room and make occasional glances at you.
His father was next to him, feeding him information about how to treat you, making sure to be loud enough that you would hear. "She's your wife now, she's expected to do everything you say. You don't have to treat her with respect, she's here to serve you." Bi Han let out an angry sigh every time he said something and wouldn't say a word.
"Look at her. She isn't even eating her food. She's ungrateful, you're just going to let her treat others like this? She should be taught a lesson." You could see Bi Han tense up at this, he had clenched has jaw and fists out of frustration from his father. "Maybe she's just not hungry. That isn't her fault, father. Leave her alone."
His father let out an angry scoff at Bi Hans response. "I give you a woman that other men would kill for and you just don't care? You're both ungrateful swines. Don't expect me to give you anything anymore." This statement didn't affect Bi Han, he just continued to sit with his arms crossed and eyes closed, waiting for this to end.
The party was finally over and Bi Han led you back to the house you two would be sharing from now on. The walk over was quiet with the only sound being the soft crunches of feet hitting the dirt and the sounds of the woods surrounding the two of you. As you arrived at a cottage just outside of the Lin Kuei temple, Bi Han would unlock the door and hold it open for you.
As you stepped in, everything had suddenly changed. It was such a beautiful cottage, it was made of stone and cherry blossom wood, it was decorated with crystals and cultural items that meant a lot to the Lin Kuei. "Father had gotten this custom made for you and me. Do you like it?" He suddenly turns to and looks at you with an expression unreadable. Eyes wide and seeking an answer you'd hopefully give him.
"It's amazing, not at all what I had expected from your father." You said with a chuckle. Bi han gives you a soft smile, "You haven't spoken at all today, I was getting worried. Hearing your voice for the first time really changed my perspective on our current situation. Although we have just met, we really should take things slow." He holds out his hand for you to take, leading you around the house so you'd know where everything is.
"Kuai Liang and I went shopping for clothing for you. It isn't much, but tomorrow I will make sure he takes you out so you can get more." He leads you into your shared bedroom, taking in how huge it was. He lets go of you so you can look around as he watches your every move, taking in that he was now married to you. His father really wasn't joking when he said other men would kill for you.
"I appreciate the thought a lot, Bi Han. You don't have to spend money on me anyway, I'll be fine with everything here." You say as you look through the wardrobe he selected for you. Not much? There's thousands of dollars worth of clothing in here! Is he insane?
"Father insists. He says that you should get more modest and feminine clothing, that you should be covered so other men don't think of you in perverted ways. Me, personally, I think he should shut the fuck up. He clearly doesn't know how to treat a woman." The last few sentences made your head snap you look at him, shock written all over your face.
He stood in the doorway as he let you take everything in, he was calm, a lot calmer than he was at the ceremony. "He isn't a good person, y/n. I seriously hope he stays away from us, everything he was saying earlier made me pissed beyond belief. No wonder he can't keep a woman, he treats them like objects. I won't let him treat you like that either."
As he stood waiting for your response, all you could do was just stare. He looked to the floor as he could sense your shock. Did he really just say all that?
"I think it's best we sleep in separate beds for a while. You can sleep in here, I'll take the couch." Before you could offer an actual bed to him, he had already left.
Months have passed in your marriage and yet he was still distant. He'd come home late and barely say a word to you, simply just humming in response to anything you say. He wouldn't sleep in the same bed as you either. He'd insist you weren't close enough yet.
You could tell he wasn't getting enough sleep on the couch, so you insisted, practically begged him to sleep in your room. Even after offering to sleep on the couch, he still wouldn't budge.
Bi han had told you he was going to be out for longer one night, he told you not to wait for him, that he'd make his own food. Something about a huge mission that was dangerous, it was what he was training for for the past few weeks.
Because of this, you couldn't sleep. Something told you to stay awake and wait for him. Would a good wife really just sleep in a time like this? With her husbands life in such risk? The thought of it kept you up as you paced back and forth for hours, just waiting for him to come through the door.
The clock had hit 3 AM by the time you heard the soft sound of the front door unlock. Snapping your head in the direction of the noise, you saw your husband walk through the door. Your tired, extremely disheveled haired, blood drenched uniformed husband.
"Bi Han! What happened? Are you hurt?" You ran to him, quickly looking over his unmasked face and his arms, examining the multiple bloody cuts that were exposed. He let out a sigh as he began to take his uniform off.
"Cmon, we're going to the bathroom, I have to bandage you up." You took his hand and led him to the bathroom in your shared room, closing the door behind you and guiding him to sit on the countertop.
You pulled out the first aid box and grabbed everything you needed: bandages, hydrogen peroxide, gauze, and sterile pads. Grabbing two towels, you dampened one with warm water and started cleaning the dried blood. "I really wish you were more careful. I don't like seeing you get this hurt." You say as you dampen the second cloth, putting peroxide on it.
You dab the open wounds on his face first, being careful not to hurt him too much. You then take his right arm, it had a huge slash on it, luckily not deep enough to need stitches but deep enough to cause issues if not cleaned. You held his arm over the sink and slowly started to pour the peroxide on it.
Bi Han would make soft grunts in pain as you would do this, having you lead up with "sorry," and "I know, I know," over and over. When you were finally done with the cleaning, you took a large sterile pad and draped it over his arm wound. Wrapping the gauze around it and tapping it, you put a small bandage around his nose and you were done.
You hopped off the counter and ran a warm bath for him, leading him to stand up so you could undress him. As you started to undress him, however, he lightly grabbed your wrist. "I can do this myself. Join me, would you?" He says that with a soft smile. You nodded and you began to strip your clothing as well. Once the water was done running, you added some nice cleansing soap so you'd be able to clean him better.
As you were crouched down and mixing the water till bubbly, Bi Han picked you up by the waist and plopped you in the bath tub. He followed in after you, and you started to clean his bloody arms with the soapy bubbles. He watched you do this and was seemingly pleased, as he didn't interrupt you at all. As you started to clean his neck and face, you moved into him more, but still couldn't reach him from your position.
Bi Han picked up on this, he grabbed you again and placed you on his lap, resting his hands on your waist. You and him have never been this close, you two havent even touched each other and here he is willingly putting you on waist as you were both in the bath tub.
You didn't mind it however, you just continued cleaning him. After a few minutes of gentle scrubbing, he was clean. You place both hands on his cheeks and rub small circles with your thumbs. He began to relax and you gave him a small smile. "I missed you. I'm glad you're okay."
Bi Han was a bit surprised at that and he returned the smile. He slowly leaned in and gave you a small kiss on the lips. This was the first time you've ever kissed, not even on your wedding day. But something about it felt so right. He departed from your lips but you stayed close to him. You decided to go back in for another one, this time he leaned into it.
It was a lot more passionate than you thought it would be, almost as if he was waiting to be able to do this. He moved one of his hands from your waist to the small of your back, pressing down slightly and making you lean in more. He slowly pulled away and leaned on the back of the tub, sliding his other hand up your back and resting just below your shoulder blades.
You rested your head in his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso, slowly drifting off to sleep. He watched you do so, mesmerized by how at peace you looked. He waited until you were fully asleep to take you out of the bath tub, he dressed you and tucked you into bed.
When you woke up in the morning, you felt something around your waist, something unfamiliar. You slowly turned around to see Bi Han, sleeping peacefully with his arms around you.
Ever since that day, Bi Han had grown a liking to you. Whenever he would be on missions he would bring back small trinkets for you, usually luxury jewelry of sorts. He would also open up to you more and insisted on sleeping in the same bed as you. You were more than happy to oblige and your days usually ended in your husband cuddling you to sleep.
With him changing as a man for you, you'd often get letters from Kuai and Tomas, thanking you for whatever you did to Bi Han. According to them, he was being a lot less strict and more understanding, and they couldn't be more grateful for you helping him.
One day, you had decided to make Bi Han a luxurious dinner. Filled with protein and a shit ton of carbs, everything a big boy needs. You had Tomas accompany you to town, so he could hold everything and for protection. He didn't mind, he liked you a lot and thought you were perfect for Bi Han. Tomas told you a lot about the food that's required to keep a healthy stature. With this information, you decided to make a seafood dinner. Lobster tail and scallops for the main course, mashed potatoes for a side, and I nice angel cake for a dessert.
If Tomas was being completely honest, he was even getting hungry as you picked out everything you needed. You decided to employ him for a bit of help in the kitchen, and as a reward you promised to save him some cake. With the addition of the last part, he was more than happy to help, cutting up the lobsters and peeling the potatoes for you. After a while though, he had to get back to work, bidding you a nice farewell before leaving.
When dinner was finally ready, you placed all the dishes on the table and plated him a bit of everything. You dimmed the lights and lit up some nice smelling candles and waited for Bi Han to walk through to door. A few minutes after you you got everything ready, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking and seeing your husband walk through.
His eyes widened at the surprise seeing you at the table that was lit with candles and had a fragrant dinner sitting on it. "Welcome home! You've been working so hard recently, I thought it would be nice for you to have a good dinner!" You pulled out his chair and watched him sit down. Taking his mask off, he picked up his chopsticks and ate some scallops, then some lobster, then some potatoes. You watched in anticipation for his reaction, wondering if he liked it or not.
He turned to you, a big smile forming on his face. "It's delicious, thank you so much." He stood up from his chair and wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your crown. You looked up at him, hugging him back and giving him a smile. He leans down, giving you a kiss on the lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in closer.
You moved your hands up to cup his face, deepening the kiss as he tightens his grip on you. He licks your bottom lip, asking for permission. You open your mouth and he starts to explore, to taste you. You had never kissed him like this, but he seemed so eager to know everything about you in this moment. He seemed to to need you in a way, and his grip tightened even more. He started to pull slightly on your clothing, as he began to breath heavily and groan into the kiss.
He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours. "Y/n... I need to tell you.." he was panting at this point, clawing at your clothing as his knees began to tremble. "I need you... Need you so bad... I've been in love with you ever since the first night you helped me.. I wanted to touch you so bad but, I was so scared.. scared you didn't like me like that.. let me treat you the way you deserve.. please you the way a husband should.. please, let me make love to you."
Bi Han was out of breath, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, and to a degree, you were. He had become so obsessed with you and he was finally admitting his feelings for you, who were you to deny him? You chuckle lightly as you kiss him back, a soft moan came from Bi Han as you started tracing your hands up and down his chest.
You decided you couldn't wait any longer, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Bi Han took this as a yes and carried you to your shared room, placing you on the new silk sheets he had just bought for you. Small giggles escape your breath as Bi Han began to trail kisses down your body. His hands traced up your thighs and clung to your night gown, slowly taking it off and leaving you in just a bra and panties.
He hooked your legs over his shoulders, pulling down your panties as he placed small kisses on your inner thighs. Once your panties were fully off, he dipped his middle and ring finger into your slit, gathering your juices. "So wet for me already. So beautiful, is this what I've been missing out on? I'll have to make up for lost time." He licked his fingers, a groan leaving his mouth from the taste.
He ran his tongue up your folds, sucking on your clit as he gripped your thighs so you'd stay in place. You began to moan loudly at his actions and started to grind yourself on his face, this made Bi Hans grip on you tighten. You could hear a muffled 'patience' as he continued what he was doing. He moved his mouth down more, prodding at your hole with his tongue. He slowly slipped his tongue in and brought his free hand to play with your clit.
You moaned loudly as his index finger and thumb began to lightly pinch and apply pressure to your clit. Bi Hans tongue continued to plunge itself deeper and deeper into you and he could feel you getting close.
With how you were whimpering and clenching around his tongue, it didn't surprise him when you harshly came without warning. A loud moan coming from you as your back arched and your head fell back. Bi Han licked up everything, not wasting a single drop of what you gave him. You had completely drenched his chin, fingers, and even parts of his neck, and he couldn't get enough of it.
After cleaning his face and fingers, he pulled away and started to undress himself. "As much as I'd love to continue doing that for the rest of the night, I think you deserve much more." He climbed onto the bed with just his boxers on, taking them off to show his hard, leaking cock.
He gripped your waist again, pulling you in and kissing you to try and soothe your anxieties. "I know you must be scared, I'll take it slow and easy." You could feel his cock prodding at your hole again, whining at the feeling. He slowly slips in and you both let out moans at the feeling. After a few minutes of moving slowly, he was finally in. After a few more minutes of waiting for you to adjust, you gave him the okay to move.
He began to rock in and out of you at a slow pace, kissing you while doing so. You began to soak up each others moans as he started to move faster. Bi Han moved to place kisses on you neck as he gripped you tighter. "You're doing amazing, taking me so well, I can't wait to do this every night when I come home." A promise he was going to most definitely keep.
You began to grip at his back, racking at it and making beads of blood appear under your fingers. He moaned at the feeling, increasing his pace because of it. "Bi han- too much, it's too much-" you moaned out, Bi Han kissed you lightly and placed his forehead to yours.
"You can take me, baby. I know you can, you're doing so well." You began to feel close again, digging your nails deeper into him because of it. His grip tightened even more on your waist, signaling he was getting close, too. "Shit- where do you want it?" He asked as he looked at you, breathing heavily.
"Inside-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you came for a second time, letting out another loud moan as Bi Han began to ride out his orgasm. You could hear him curse under his breath and a few moments after he came inside you, letting out a groan while doing so.
He collapsed on top of you and you both tried to catch your breath. He slowly got up and got a clean wash cloth, wiping down the both of you. "You did amazing, love. You were so good for me." He smiles as he discards the cloth somewhere in the room, climbing into bed with you.
You both exchanged a few light kisses before you drifted off to sleep. Bi Han had stayed up a bit though, cuddling closer into you as he watched you float off into a state of peace. He truly was besotted by you.
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A/N: I have to update my request guidelines ugh
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