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#it was literally dripping down my face i had to dry my hair with a towel when i got in
wonysugar · 1 month
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angel | jang wonyoung
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synopsis : she was convinced everything you did was to seduce her.
pairing : wonyoung x 6thmember!femreader
genre : smut
tags : noncon, degradation, manipulation, gaslighting, objectification, wonyoung is genuinely a creep, blood mentioned, scratching, physical and verbal abuse, choking, slight mentions of tribbing, fingering, slight nipple play, just plain suffering tbh, death threats, ‘good girl’, ‘slut’
!! warnings : this is like. PURE noncon so please please please read with caution and please for the love of god read the tags before continuing :(( !!
word count : 2.1k
a/n : okay i know i made the poll yesterday and all but look i had ideas and here they are I HOPE YOU LIKE IT this was so interesting to write cause this is SOOOO OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE AND LIKE?? idk it was a nice experience i hope you like itfkendn
also you know the drill THIS IS NOT OKAY NOR IS IT HEALTHY DON’T DO THIS IRL BITCHES CONSENT IS KEY YALL😭🙏🙏do not give tea to someone who doesn’t want tea CAUSE THEY DON’T WANT ITT IT’S SIMPLE
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god, finally.
you sat on the corner of your mattress, still carefully drying your wet dripping hair with the fluffy towel that belonged to you. after a shower like that? you felt refreshed, you felt good and oh did you feel so ready to just pass out on your bed at that moment. that was until you remembered that you couldn’t; since you had to wait for wonyoung, your dorm mate, to come back from the mall with yujin— or, wherever the hell they were at this hour. her dumbass forgot to bring the keys with her, so you’d have to stay awake to be able to open the door for her.
grabbing your phone, you checked the time. it read 12:37 am, which then lead you to text her, very politely yelling at her through SMS to hurry the fuck home before turning it off again and plugging in the charger. 
what a hassle, you thought, groaning. you were fucking exhausted and were practically dying to get some amount of rest, especially after such a long day of non-ending schedules.
mentally sucking it up and shrugging it off, you put the towel aside and laid down on your back, grabbing your phone yet again as an attempt to cure the ongrowing boredom and impatience inside you; maybe instagram reels would make the time go by faster.
indeed, before you knew it, you were startled by a quiet knock at the door. feeling immediate relief, you quickly got up and rushed to open it, already thinking about the amazing night of sleep you were gonna get afterwards.
“any second later and i would’ve left you outside, wonyoung.” you complained as soon as you turned the knob, immediately greeted by her face. you particularly noticed her expression switch to one of slight guilt as she giggled nervously.
you also observed how she stared at you, as per usual.
“sorry, angel.” she apologized, looking up and down at your entire body, seemingly distraught by the sight of your naked thighs, before walking in and continuing. “we just got so caught up in conversation that we ended up just walking around for hours, i hope i didn’t keep you waiting for too long, though.” she scratched the back of her neck, still staring at you, this time more so focused on your chest.
here’s the thing, you loved wonyoung. she was one of your closest friends, that was undeniable. but for some reason, sometimes whenever you’d talk to her.. she’d have a certain look. the same look that she’d give you whenever you’re wearing a somewhat revealing outfit, or doing quite literally anything, for that matter. it always made you feel uneasy, it made your skin crawl. you’d never tell her, though; she was a sweetheart, and you knew that her last intention would be to ever make you uncomfortable. 
right now was one of those moments, though, and her staring was getting overwhelming.
more overwhelming than usual.
subtly trying to brush it off, you responded, “it’s— it’s fine. just, please bring the keys next time?” 
she simply nodded before apologizing again, clearly aware of her mistake and swearing to never commit it again. that gave you the permission you needed to finally get ready for bed. whilst you were doing that, she was changing into her comfier clothes and also getting ready to sleep as she  threw occasional warm smiles at you. 
until she squinted at you.
“man, you look pretty tired, y/n. did you sleep early yesterday?” she asked with a worried tone, afraid that you maybe weren’t getting enough sleep. 
you waved your hand around, “yeah, i did. today just wore me the fuck out really, but oh well.” you cut the conversation short, heading straight towards your bed. “goodnight wonyoung—“ but before you could do so, you felt her hand grab your wrist.
tightly.
“wait but— don’t you wanna cuddle like we usually do?” she asked, her mouth formed into a small pout.
and there went that stare. again.
“wony i’m sorry, i’m really tired and—“
“come on, please. i missed you.” she insisted, her grip on your wrist getting tighter as she kept her unsettling gaze on yours. 
your tired brain didn’t seem to register that, however, since you didn't even think about saying no.
i mean, she seemed pretty insistent on cuddling that night, so who were you to even say no? either way, you were gonna fall asleep immediately, so did it really matter if she was cuddling you or not?
you groaned dramatically, then signaled for her to lay on the other side of the bed. her eyes immediately lighting up, she rushed to jump on that side of the bed.
it didn’t take long at all for you guys to finally be settled in bed and you particularly thrived in finally feeling the warmth of your weighted blanket against your cold skin. she, on the other hand, just seemed to be happy to be there with you, considering the grip she had on you was quite strong for like, literally no reason. 
after telling each other goodnight, you expected to doze off immediately, but you couldn’t. you felt bizarre, you didn’t feel like yourself at that moment. every single ounce of exhaustion left your body and it was like insomnia just kicked in for no reason whatsoever.
frustrated, you tried to sleep. that’s when you heard her breathing heavily… very heavily. her inhales and exhales were loud and violent and you felt them on your neck, since she was especially close to it. you would’ve shrugged it off, 
if you didn’t feel her hands moving a lot more than usual.
“wonyoung?”
you felt her shift before hearing her hum, indicating you to keep going.
“you feeling okay?? you’re.. you’re breathing quite heavily.” was what you asked, somewhat concerned. “plus, you’re like, grabbing me—“ 
“sorry.” she responded immediately, “you just— you smell good, is all. i saw your hair was wet, you took a shower, right? you used the body lotion i gave you, right?” 
you nodded reluctantly, somewhat weirded out by her behavior tonight, to which she hummed again.
“i knew you’d like it, it’s so soft and sweet,” she leaned in closer to your neck, sniffing it closer, “just like you, angel.” 
what the fuck was actually wrong with her that night??
getting even more weirded out with each second that passed, you were about to let out a hesitant ‘thanks’ but got cut off by the sensation of her slowly sliding her hand up your pajama shirt as she kept sniffing you.
woah.
woah woah woah???
“wonyoung— what the fuck—“ 
“you smell so fucking good baby. fuck— so good. you used that body lotion just so i would notice, hm? i know you did.” she whispered into your ear, smelling your hair in the process as her other hand went down to your crotch.
triggering your fight or flight, you tried pushing her off of you slightly, but she simply wouldn’t budge. 
wonyoung had always been taller than you by a long shot.
your own breathing getting heavier, you were starting to get progressively worried. why was she keeping you in place, why was she smelling you like this?? why the fuck was she acting weird??? 
“wonyoung get off of me—“ 
“god your smell.” 
she just kept mumbling that same sentence as she sniffed you all over, gently putting her hand on your neck to keep you secure, making you squirm under her whilst you’re trying to break free from her tight grasp.
in a state of panic, “you’re scaring me wony stop it please—“ 
“stop moving or i swear to god i’ll fucking kill you.” was all she said back, it was dark, but not dark enough to where you couldn’t see her staring at you with that look again. you were shaking by this point, but you obeyed. you stopped moving, in fear of what she was actually going to do to you.
“look at you, being a fucking slut and putting on the body lotion i gave you, always wearing these outfits around me, and you seriously expect me not to do this shit? god, you probably sounded so good washing up too—” she rubbed your inners thighs with her free hand before adding on, 
“what do you want me to do when your ass is out in front of me all the time, y/n? i tried to be nice and do it only when you’re sleeping, but answering the door at midnight in booty shorts and tshirt this tight? baby, you’re asking me to fuck you.” her hand still reaching down to your thighs and squeezing them, hard enough for her acrylic nails to dig in slightly as you winced in pain.
you tried speaking up, but words wouldn’t come out. 
you could only stare at her, tears quickly welling up your eyes. 
“oh angel, don’t cry..” she pouted, quickly taking that same hand she used to hurt you and wiping your tears with it. you could only flinch “i’m so sorry baby, i— i just can’t help it. you look so good and smell so good and—“ she slid her hand up your shirt and quickly went under your bra, playing with the nipple for a few moments almost immediately as she breathed in more of your pheromones before exhaling sharply yet again. “fuck y/n your tits—“ 
“—i’ll be quick, okay? i promise it’ll be fine, i’ll be sooo quick.”
wonyoung very quickly slid her hand back down your crotch as she forcefully kissed you, tightening her grip on your neck whenever you weren’t giving her enough tongue. “come on baby, work for it, i know you want this.” 
you didn’t. you didn’t want it.
her fingers slipping under your shorts and onto your panties, she rubbed circles around your wet clit through the fabric of them, closing her eyes in euphoria when she heard your choked up moan.
“shit.. look at you, being all wet for me. i knew you’ve always wanted me to do this to you. hm? come on, say it.” 
“l-let go off me—“ 
her nails dug into your neck once more, making you whimper. “shut. the fuck. up.” she whispered, “i guess bitches like you shouldn’t be allowed to speak up, huh. that’s fine, we’ll have you be a stupid puppy instead, okay? you can do that, right?” 
you only cried out in front of her, clit still being stimulated from her long and cold fingers. her disturbing gaze piercing through yours, her pretty face exhibiting the ugliest thoughts she had about you. 
“i said, nod, bitch.”
and so, you nodded. eagerly, at that. of course you did, with the amount of strength this girl was putting on her grip, you needed to obey her every word.
even if you had abundant tears rolling down your face.
“you’re so pretty like this.” she breathed out, before kissing you then pulling back away, “you’re getting me so fucking wet y/n.” 
then, she gradually reaches into your underwear and puts her hands on your naked cunt, rubbing the slit and feeling how wet it is. in response to that, she laughed. 
she laughed in your face.
but before you could even process anything, however, she already had two of her fingers buried deep inside your pussy, already curling in all of the right places.
and that’s when you remembered the fact that she had acrylic nails on. 
“w-wonyoung— take them out take them out it h-hurts wonyoung it hurts p-please—“
“i don’t give a shit. you’re gonna be a good fucking girl and take it. you know what’ll happen if you don’t, don’t you?”
she pumped and curled her fingers in and out, watching you as your facial expressions changed with each movement she made, smiling and mocking you.
and that went for what felt like hours. 
until she decided she had enough of you crying and begging for her to stop. she believed that it was, in her words, ‘her turn to feel good’ now.
so she took off her own clothes and rubbed her dripping pussy onto your own, her hand digging into your neck if you moved in a way she didn’t like. 
her words rang in your head, things like “y-you’re so fucking selfish y/n, it’s usually so much better, whenever you’re sound a-asleep peacefully— oh my god.”
it didn’t take long for her to cum, since seeing you sob so prettily made her so unbelievably aroused. and when she did, she just went back to cuddling you. as if you weren’t bleeding from your nose, thighs and neck. as if you weren’t in pain, she just went back to cuddling you.
and you just had to silently cry in her arms. those were the only ones you could do that in at that moment.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months
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I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)
Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.
While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.
CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut
To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess
Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂
*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me
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*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!
You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.
You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.
You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.
It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.
A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.
A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.
For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.
Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.
Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.
“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”
You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.
Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.
You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.
You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.
You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.
You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.
Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.
He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.
He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.
The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.
Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.
Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.
When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”
Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.
The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.
Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”
Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.
“Sick? For how long?”
Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”
“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”
“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.
Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.
Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?
Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.
“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.
Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.
Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.
Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.
If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.
Shadowheart be damned.
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You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!
You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.
You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.
You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-
“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”
“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”
“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”
Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.
“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.
You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.
Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?
Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.
Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.
It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.
You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.
“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”
“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”
Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.
“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”
“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”
Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!
Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”
“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”
“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.
Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”
“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”
“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”
Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.
You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”
Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.
You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.
“A girl?”
His question breaks the air.
“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.
A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.
“You don’t want to be involved?”
Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.
“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”
You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”
His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.
“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”
You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.
“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”
Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.
“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”
Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.
You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.
Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”
“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”
“What wish?”
It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.
“Right… that.”
The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.
“Astarion-“
“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”
You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.
“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”
You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.
“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”
You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.
Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”
Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”
“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”
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90ekz · 1 month
Note
ive head this nagging thought in the back of my head that satoru has some kinda random spot on his body that’ll make him instantly pop a bone. I DONT KNOW JUST WORK WITH ME HERE PLS 🙏 i love your works btw 😘
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✧ sweet spot, ft. satoru gojo
✧ tags: mostly fluff, whiny satoru, ‘baby’ as a nickname, did i say mostly fluff already??, dry humping, overstim, loser satoru cs he’s mushy and in love
✧ an: this idea is now living in my head and not paying rent, thanks a lot anon :/
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satoru usually just does his own hair care, and he’s very meticulous about it. he wants everything to be clean and pristine—not that you weren’t capable of doing that for him, he’s just very, very dramatic. he didn’t even know this spot was sensitive until… literally now.
he’s standing in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his growing undercut. he figured it was time for him to cut it anyway, but his arms were very sore from some training he’d done with the kids yesterday.
“babe.”
“y’esh?” he chuckled at your mouthful of the minty paste, and just waited for you to finish brushing. when you finally did, you turned to face him as he brushed his thumb over the white pooling on the corner of your mouth.
“can you cut my hair today? ‘arms are so sore.” satoru whined, his finger still tracing your lip lazily.
“have you washed it? i don’t need your lice transferring to me—ouch! okay, okay, plug in the clippers!” you giggled as he pinched your lip. the clippers rested on his side of the sink, and he plugged them in wordlessly. you stood behind him, lightly brushing the area with the small brush you know is the most comfortable for him. satoru sighs lightly as you do this, and his shoulders relax.
he didn’t know exactly what it was, but your hands felt different than his. you made him so sensitive usually anyway, but this was weird. his cheeks were heating, and everything was tingling, not just his neck.
and then you did it.
the clippers worked in upward strokes as you trimmed the hair down, and suddenly your thumb brushed over some magical pressure point of his. satoru felt pleasure shoot down his spine like he never had before, and a almost girly squeak slipped out before he could stop it. your eyes go wide and you remove the clippers from his neck. satoru is deathly still, and you watched color bloom over his cheeks in the mirror.
“…you okay sato’?” the nickname drips off your tongue like honey—so effortless, so intimate, and he hates that you decided to use it right now. he can’t take it. you’ve never called him that, and he can hear the amused tilt in your voice.
satoru gulps, because he doesn’t know what to say. how does he say that he wants you to keep going, to keep brushing over that exact spot so he can pinpoint exactly what that feeling was just now? he’s never felt anything like that when he cut his own hair…
he settles on a weak little “i’m fine, baby,” because frankly? he doesn’t trust himself to say any other words right now.
you give him a little smile in the mirror before your hands start working again, and you finally start getting somewhere with actually cutting his damn hair. he doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary happen anymore, and now he’s finally cleanly shaven again like he likes. you did an exceptional job, and satoru peppers you with kisses as a reward.
he mostly stops thinking about it after this.
yeah, maybe the thought lingers in the back of his head for a few hours after, and maybe he stands in the bathroom rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck for a little longer than considered normal, but it was fine.
except for when you call him down to finish watching the movie you’d started earlier, and he’s laying on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair. satoru isn’t even paying attention to what your hand is doing as he yaps about the plot of the film, and you listen.
“he’s a piece of shit! i mean, he stayed with his side piece on the plane, and made his wife drive in the snow? fuck mike ‘till it’s backwards.” satoru spits, his attention fully focused on the movie’s plot.
unlike you, who’s mind was still in the bathroom, cutting satoru’s hair.
you haven’t stopped thinking about the little noise he’d made as you’d accidentally pressed your finger over the nape of his neck, right where the hair started. he sounded so weak—so vulnerable, and you decided right then that you needed to hear much more of that.
your mind was now solely focused on one thing, and your hand was moving just as it was in the bathroom. you twirled your fingers around strands, until finally threading your fingers through his hair and giving a small tug. this tore a stuttered breath out of satoru, and you smiled. he’d gone a little more rigid against you, and his commentary had stopped as you payed so much attention to him. he was losing focus of the movie, too.
“b-babe,”
“hmm?” you hummed back, fingers now traveling from his hair to his lower neck, tracing small circles there. you knew what you were looking for, but why not tease a little first?
satoru couldn’t answer you if he tried—every word in his throat dies as you press down onto that spot once more, and he’s slamming his hand on-top of yours to make sure you don’t move it. he isn’t sure why he does that exactly, but why does it matter? why does anything matter when you’re touching him like this?
he can’t do this, just one press on his spot has his dick rising and stiff against your thigh, and even you can hardly believe it.
“sato.” you grip his hair to pull him off your chest, just enough to look at you. he whines from the mixture of the nickname and the sting of his scalp.
“b-baby, please.” satoru breathes. you know what he’s asking for, and you figured you’d done enough teasing for a while. you grin, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the pressure point back and forth, up and down, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came just from this based on the sounds he was making. he hovers you, his arms barely holding his body up, and he’s heaving into your neck.
“breathe, satoru.”
“mmph—i will! i will, just please don’t stop,” satoru whines, his hips grinding down against your thigh. sure, this whole thing is embarrassing as hell, but he couldn’t help the cheeky grin that stretched across his face as you indulged him. as you ran your acrylics over the sensitive part of him, he dropped his head back into your shoulders, and his own started to shake violently.
he was laughing.
you were shocked by this, but you didn’t dare stop. at some point, you couldn’t help but snort a little as he grasped onto you. it was cute—the way his giggles melted into moans, the way he couldn’t control himself or his emotions in the moment. there were no coherent thoughts forming in his head except for fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
and you loved it that way.
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hallietblr · 9 months
Note
So my conrad request is basically the scene in season 1 where they (jeremiah and conrad) go to pick up the girls after they go skinny dipping but reader is there too and drives home with conrad?and smut but it could also just be fluff if you want
i’ve got you, always | c.fisher x reader
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a/n: yay!! another conrad fic :) <3 thank you so much for the request, i loved writing it and i hope you enjoy. i had it super fluffy at first but it kind of took its own turn so i hope it’s ok. also, thank you to everyone for all the support for my writing recently — you guys make my day and i can never thank you enough. i love you all truly!
warnings: slight angst, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and swearing.
“are you fucking kidding me?!” taylor screams, putting her forearms onto the dock and searching, “i knew those girls were fucking bitches!”
belly and i swim towards her, “what happened?” belly asks,
“your fucking snake friends took our clothes and ran off, that’s what!” taylor hisses, “all that’s left are our phones.”
“they did what?” belly panics, lifting her high high enough to see the dock, “oh my god.”
i feel my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach and the colour in my face drain away. i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping in hopper’s cove but i did it anyways since taylor and belly along with belly’s friends were going.
“what do we do?” belly asks us, frantically looking around for a possible solution, “there’s a boat cover we could use!”
“are you fucking joking?” taylor scoffs, shaking her head, “absolutely not.”
“i’m calling conrad,” i tell them, grabbing my phone and clicking his name on speed dial.
i hear the girls bicker by me as my hands shake, bringing my phone to my ear, “c- conrad? i need you.”
“where are you?” he asks, concern laced into his voice. i briefly explain the situation as my lip quivers, “please hurry”
“i’ll be there as soon as i can, lovie. hang tight.” he promises before hanging up.
i turn to the girls and tell them that conrad is on his way while belly says that jeremiah is also coming. we patiently wait for what feels like hours in the water. i could feel my hands shaking as i keep myself propped up on the small dock since my legs were exhausted. my eyes were welling up with tears from anxiety — only hoping conrad will get here soon.
after what felt like hours, we heard a car’s engine running and then stop. he’s here.
“bells, n/n, oh my god,” jeremiah pants out, “i came as soon as you hung up.” he tells belly, “conrad is here too.”
on cue, conrad comes up behind jeremiah while holding a plastic bag of clothes, “nicole gave these to me. i hope everything’s in this.”
“thanks guys,” belly says sheepishly, “do you mind turning around?”
their eyes go widen in embarrassment but quickly turn around while taylor, belly, and i climb up onto the dock. we sift through the plastic bag, handing each other our clothes.
i quickly pull on my dry clothes onto my wet, water dripping body. i pull my drenched hair into a messy bun, with water droplets crawling down the back of my neck. the night breeze was freezing on my body. i shiver and close my hands into tight fists in attempt to stop the shaking.
taylor and belly are soon fully dressed again, in somewhat the same state as i was but much more collected than my embarrassed self.
“okay, you can turn around,” taylor tells the two brothers. they face us and motion us to follow them towards the cars.
“i can’t believe that they did that” jeremiah says, his arms crossed over his chest.
taylor scoffs, “i do, i literally called it that they were all bitches.”
conrad lets belly and taylor pass him to follow jeremiah, he gives me a small sympathetic smile and puts a comforting arm around me, “come on.”
we reach the two cars, belly and taylor whispering to each other, “we’ll ride with you, jere.” belly tells him before herself and taylor climb into the jeep. taylor gives me a quick wink before closing her door.
“see you two at home?” jeremiah asks conrad, who nods. the jeep soon pulls away onto the pitch black road and heads towards the fisher summer home.
“you okay?” conrad asks, facing me, “i’m sorry that happened, you didn’t deserve that.”
his hand is on my shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles against the material of my shirt. i couldn’t even focus, and not in the typical sense when i’m around him. it’s usually butterflies, racing heart rate, heat on my cheeks, but this felt nearly the exact opposite.
it felt like my heart was being squeezed, my stomach was churning, and my stupid hands wouldn’t stop shaking. my vision was slightly blurry from the tears that were threatening to fall.
“you’re freezing,” he breathes out, “hold on”
he turns away and rummages around in the backseats of his car. conrad turns back to me and hands me a grey hoodie, his hoodie, “take this.”
i slowly take it from his hands, trying with every ounce of my strength to stop the shakiness of my hands. i didn’t want him to see the anxious state that i was in. it was such a stupid reason to be anxious anyways, taylor and belly were completely fine after getting their clothes. pissed off maybe, but not acting the way i was.
i have his hoodie in my hands but i don’t put it on.
“lets get you home, love.” he says but i can barely hear him with the ringing in my ears.
conrad starts walking towards his side of the car, assuming that i was also getting into the vehicle — but i feel frozen. stuck in one place.
why was it getting harder to breathe?
conrad’s hand is on the small of my back and my heart rate spikes up to an unbelievable high level, but not in that way. something is wrong, and my chest is hurting.
my hand goes to my sternum of my chest, slowing rubbing it as my breathing picks up. my body was trembling and my chest was rising and falling at a concerning pace.
“babe?” he stands up from his seat. my legs felt weak yet everything else felt heavy, why is it heavy? i feel myself collapse towards the gravel, but i don’t fall.
conrad was able to get to my side quick enough to prevent me from falling. his strong arms wrapped around me, “hey… hey, what’s wrong?”
i shake my head repeatedly, “i- i-” i stutter out and it’s hard to speak, my throat feels dry and it hurts.
he cradles me on the side of the road, “sh, it’s okay. nice and slow, what’s going on?”
“i c- can’t breathe” i tell him, his finger interlace with my shaking ones. he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them,
“you’re okay, love,” he says softly, “you’re having a panic attack.”
my eyes widen, i’ve never had one of those before. i shut my eyes in fear. my breathing doesn’t slow down for a moment, if anything, it feels like it’s going even faster now.
“look at me,” he whispers, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, “baby, look at me please.”
i open my eyes to look into his blue ones, “breathe with me, okay? nice and slow.”
i watch as conrad takes a deep breath, i try to but i don’t think it’s even possible to breathe.
“in,” he inhales, i attempt at copying his actions by taking a breath of air in, “and out.”
exhale.
my breath trembles out of my lips, he slowly nods, “just like that, in…. and out.”
we take a few more deep breaths together, until mine regulates again. conrad smiles at me, “there you go, now do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
i swallow, “i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping with the girls, i don’t fit in with them. they’re all so pretty and fun and everyone loves them. i’m nothing like them.”
a tear slips from the corner of my eye, conrad is quick to wipe it away, “so, i thought if i did it then maybe i’ll be like them. i thought they liked me too, fuck’s sake i’m so gullible. they all left! with me naked in some stupid cove.” i cry out, burying my face into my hands.
“oh, baby,” conrad coos, “sh…” he places a kiss on my hair.
he pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my torso and placing his chin on my head, “you don’t deserve that, and you’re perfect the way you are. i don’t want to hear any of that ‘no one likes me’ shit, ok? because i do.”
“wh- what?” i ask, looking at him with watery eyes.
“i think you’re amazing just as you are,” he repeats, “you’re my y/n, i don’t want you to be one of those debutante sheep. i love you as y/n.”
my heart fills with so much love, i reach up to pull him into a kiss. he kisses me back immediately, his hands trailing up from my waist to cup my face.
“lets go home, yeah?” he asks after pulling away, “lets get you showered and into some comfy, warm, and dry clothes. we can cuddle and watch a movie. sounds good?”
“sounds perfect.” i blush, i finally pull on his grey hoodie. it falls to my mid thigh and it smells like him; cologne, cigarettes, and ocean water.
conrad helps me to my feet and opens the car door for me, “oh, and conrad?”
he looks down at me and hums, “thank you for coming to get me.” i say to him.
“i’ve got you baby, always.” conrad responds with a kiss before closing the car door.
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darby-rowe · 3 months
Note
OK HEAR ME OUT …..
reader cumming just from sucking coryos cock. he’d been away for weeks for work and she’s grown so needy for him and he knows this so as soon as he gets home he lets her take what she needs. coryo lies down on the bed while she watches reader facefuck herself, whispering praises and humiliating words like “my good girl, so needy.” “missed my cock this much?”.
she gets so wet and turned on just by having his big cock in her mouth that she’s practically worshipping it, mouthing, licking, sucking, and never missing out on his balls too. she doesn’t mean to be a tease but just wants to take her time with her man and worship him right. she still can’t help but ogle at his cock and whisper “so big, coryo.” coryo sees reader so blissed out and genuinely so happy to have him in her mouth that she looks up at him with the most dumbed out eyes while she plays with her own pussy. once reader cums with his cock in her mouth, eyes closed and feeling every vein and sucking his head, coryo takes over and fucks her face chasing his own high.
PLEASE IVE BEEN THINKING OF THIS ALL MORNING AND JUST HAD TO LET IT OUT
ANON OH MY GOD THIS IS SO HOT ALLOW ME TO EXPAND ON THIS A BIT
18+ | nsfw | mdni
may i raise u, reader coming from sucking coryo’s cock… hands free
just think about it THINK ABOUT IT
the feeling of his hard cock throbbing inside your mouth feels so insanely good
and the noises he’s making are so pretty
i think it’s safe to say you’re obsessed with his cock as you dont DARE to stop pleasing him until he’s shooting his hot load down your throat
he’s rocking his hips and his hands are softly caressing your face and tugging on your hair
i mean you’re working with BOTH hands
and the act of pleasing your hot hot bf has your pussy literally dripping wet
and it’s as if your hips have a mind of their own as you begin to dry hump the bed to the best of your ability
anything to bring attention to your swollen, pulsating clit
such filthy words begin spilling from your spit covered lips, “so big” “you taste so fucking good baby” “please fuck my mouth”
you’re making a mess as your own saliva begins drooling down ur chin
your eyes are so pleasantly dumb as you shove his cock as far back into your throat as possible
and coryo is loving all of this
he watches your legs and hips squirm so desperately as you feel your orgasm approaching as you continue to worship his cock and balls
and then finally, your eyes roll back as you come all in ur panties without even touching yourself, with coryo’s dick still deep inside your mouth
“such a dirty girl aren’t you?” coryo purrs “did your pussy come all by itself? just from having my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours? so naughty”
in conclusion im drooling
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luveline · 1 year
Note
Okay but what about Eddie and reader having been going strong for awhile and Eddie wants to take things further and ask reader to marry him, but he wants to ask Roan’s permission first bc he cares about her opinion.
I thought this was so cute! it's almost entirely eddie and roan but r is mentioned lots and lots and is also a bit long my bad 🥺 ♡ fem!reader
He really wants to get you a ring.
Eddie Munson can be stupid. He makes rash decisions all the time. He bets on the wrong horses and he's almost always late to parent-teacher conferences. He buys Roan's clothes by holding them up to her body in the middle of the store and asking her if she likes them. He knows there's a thousand wrong decisions to make and half of them he's already made, but he really thinks this is the right one.
He just needs Roan to agree.
You're at your own place for once. Not for Eddie's lack of trying — he'd asked you to move in twice already, and though you'd kissed him silly and told him you loved him an insane amount, you'd reasoned that you should keep your place. (Though you had, in a way, moved in anyhow.)
"I don't want us to rush anything, Eddie," you'd said carefully, eyes on Roan's dark head of hair across the room. He'd followed your gaze. "I don't want to be the evil step-mom."
He'd promised that could never, ever happen.
He probably shouldn't have. While Roan literally loves you so much it makes her cry, things can change.
Right now, Roan thinks that she's sharing Eddie, and she's doing a great job at adapting to all the changes that come with that. Your clothes in his room, your coats on the hangers. Your work stuff where her princess ponies used to live, your fancy shampoo next to her jellybean two-in-one. Getting married would make you her bona fide mom. Eddie's not sure Roan realises that she's the one who'd be getting shared.
Though you act like you're her mom already. It's one of the many reasons he loves you. You've never once made Eddie feel bad for being a dad, or for having Roan full time. You genuinely miss her when she's at Wayne's. You love his daughter. You play games and you sing songs and you cuddle her whenever you can. You wash her hair and take care of her curls, you do plaits and bows and bunches. You'd learned how to do all of that stuff without ever having been asked.
Eddie wants to marry you so badly it's a physical ache.
Which is why he's as scared as he is to ask her about it.
"Roan?" he calls, stretched out over the couch with a coke can on his chest. Moping, maybe.
"What?" she calls back, voice littler still because of the distance.
"Are you busy?"
He hears the tap running and then she appears, water dripping down to her wrists. Eddie swaps her for the coke can, rubbing her wet hands dry with the excess fabric of his shirt.
She sits on his stomach. She's incredibly big and small at the same time.
"What, dad?"
"I got something to ask you."
Roan squirms until Eddie brings his legs up to let her lean against his thighs like a chair.
"It's a big question," he says tentatively.
Roan crosses her arms in front of her, hands on his stomach. "Like, big as you?"
"Right. Super big."
She nods thoughtfully before flashing a huge, charming smile. "Okay."
Eddie lifts his hands to her small face, tucking her freshly shorn locks behind her ears. Long hair like daddy had been a good idea in theory, but she just can't stand all the fuss of it.
"I'm asking because... You're five now. And I know you have lots of big feelings. I wanna know what you think about-" He doesn't chicken out, per se, more like opens softly midway through. "Uh, how you feel about Y/N."
Roan wrinkles her nose. "I love her."
"I know you do. And you don't mind that she spends so much time here?"
Again, Roan looks perplexed. How many times has she cried now because she wants to see you and you're busy? How many times has Eddie told her you can't spend all your time here? It probably doesn't make much sense to her that he'd be asking.
"No. I wanted her for my princess party after and you said no."
He grins ruefully. "I didn't say no, babe. She couldn't come because she's at her own house tonight."
"Why can't she be at our house?"
Brilliant question.
"She has stuff to do." Like make sure moths haven't eaten your clothes. And dust.
You don't really spend a lot of time there.
Roan harrumphs. "Whatever. Why can't we go to her house, then?"
He takes Roan's hands into his and toys with her smaller fingers. "I can't really explain it. But you like when she's here all the time?"
"Yeah," Roan says, clearly bored of this conversation.
He laughs under his breath and steels himself for a bunch of huge questions.
"You know I love you more than anybody else?" he asks.
"I love you more," she argues.
"No, like. Out of everybody in the world, I love you the most. I could love Uncle Wayne the most, but I love you the most." Sorry, Wayne.
And while Eddie loves you so much (and Wayne, of course), it's the truth. You're always gonna be that tiny fraction below, though Eddie's not sure he likes the word below. It's a different kind of love, regardless.
Roan seems really, really happy with this prospect. She giggles for a second and throws her arms out toward him, face landing perfectly under his chin.
"I love you, daddy," she says. She manages to sound both shy and exuberant, little face digging into his collar. "I would pick you out of the world too."
"You would?" he asks. Eddie's not too proud to admit he wells up. He laughs it off, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he can.
"You first. Um, and Uncle Wayne and Y/N and damnation and Stacey P. second most."
"Damnation your imaginary dog is on the same level as Uncle Wayne and Y/N?" he asks, laughing hard enough to shake under her hug.
"Dad!"
"Sorry. Your totally real and invisible dog."
"Well, maybe not as much as Uncle Wayne and Y/N."
"No, I thought so."
She hides her hands inside of his short sleeves. Eddie lets her get on with it, happy and honestly buffeted by her affection. He feels both the euphoria of having a great kid and the self-satifaction of a parenting win.
"Do you think Y/N loves me that much?" Roan asks. "In the world?"
"Yes," he says without hesitation. "Of course she does."
"Mm," Roan hums, pleased. "I miss her."
"If I ask you my really big question, maybe we can go see her afterward. But it's- it's a big question, Roanie, I mean it. And it's okay if you don't know the answer, or if you feel mad or angry first."
Roan looks very concerned, climbing up on his chest to giggle at him. "Ast me, dad."
He blows her hair out of her eyes with a breath from the corner of his mouth. Heart in his throat, he grabs a hold of her waist in one hand and tries.
"I want to ask Y/N to marry me."
She blinks.
"I don't know if she'll say yes, but if she does that means lots of things would change. We would live together, and we'd maybe not live so close to Uncle Wayne, I'm not sure. Do you know what I mean?"
Roan leans forward. "Marry in a wedding?"
"Yeah. A big wedding. Or actually maybe a little one. I haven't really asked. Roan..."
He drifts off, distracted by her lovely tiny face growing more and more excited by the second.
"She would-"
"She would be my mom?" Roan shouts, eyes wide with a blazing amusement. "She would be my mommy?"
"Sweetheart," Eddie says apprehensively, "I'm not sure-"
"Oh my god," Roan says, already climbing off of his chest.
"Roan, I really need to finish talking to you," he says, listening to her sprint away in defeat. He rubs his eyes for a second, stressed, though slowly he starts to smile.
That's a good reaction.
That's a great reaction.
"Roan, if we get married, that means more- It means a lot of things," he calls, struggling to keep the smile out if his voice as he gets onto his feet to track her down.
"Yeah!" Roan calls.
Eddie walks down the hall and finds her in the middle of her room, backpack in the middle of her floor and upheaved. She's crammed three different teddies inside and a mismatched pair of pajamas, and now seems to be deciding between her pens or her long crayons.
"Babe, what are you doing?"
"I'm getting my stuff!"
He bites back a ridiculous smile. "For what?"
"You said we'd ask the question and go see Y/N," she whines, expecting a rejection.
"I didn't ask my question yet."
Roan shoves her crayons into her backpack and stares at him expectantly, a frenzy of ringlets and a palpable excitement.
He feels suddenly sheepish. "So can I... Is that okay? If I ask her to get married?"
Roan starts laughing like a maniac, the smallest, most intense vestibule of joy that's ever existed. "Dad, I need my shoes."
"No, but you can't tell her! It's a secret!" he warns seriously.
"You said we could go!"
He looks down at his girl. She's frenetic, jumping on both feet with her hands bunched into fists like she's willing to fight him for this. She wants to see you so badly now she's practically vibrating.
"Alright. Alright, come on. Let's get your shoes on."
Roan screams and runs past him, almost barrelling him down. He picks up her backpack and zips it closed, standing in the middle of her room for a few private seconds.
"Holy shit," he whispers.
"Dad!"
"I'm coming, Roan," he says, closing the door behind him.
-
more eddie and roan
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blueicequeen19 · 8 months
Text
Restless
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Warnings: unprotected sex in the Twinkie, making out, playful banter, angst
It had been so long since you’d had an orgasm you didn’t give yourself that you were becoming increasingly unpleasant to be around. Even your dreams were filled with multiple scenarios of someone railing the attitude out of your system.
The slightest thing that made your heart beat a little faster, had your core clenching with anticipation. Like fighting. That’s all you seemed to be doing with the guy you hated. Like actually hated. He was arrogant and reckless and annoyingly cocky. He was the only person you’d ever wanted to punch in the face.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You called over the music as JJ smirked around his cup, tipping it back and draining the beer.
“Do you?” JJ countered, grabbing the nozzle from your hand and filling up his drink again.
“You’re so annoying.” You grumble, lifting your cup to your lips only for him to flick it, making the liquid poor down your chin and down the front of your bikini top. You squealed, dropping the cup as cold liquid raced down your front and JJ howled with laughter. You growled, snatching his cup from his hand and throwing it in his face. JJ’s laughter cut off as he glared at you, his nostrils flared as beer dripped from his nose and eyelashes, even his hair was sticking to his forehead now.
“Can’t take a joke?” JJ snaps, lifting his shirt to reveal toned abs as he wipes his face. You suddenly picture yourself licking the beer off his stomach when he drops the shirt again.
“Jokes are funny. Yours wasn’t.” You counter, licking your dry lips, the cool liquid running down your stomach almost forgotten about.
“Maybe you need another way to cool off.” JJ says in a low warning voice making you lose all train of thought. Your gaze lowers to his lips -thin lips but still kissable lips - as you try to think about anything but his mouth on you. His lips tips up in a cocky smirk when suddenly he lunges, ducking down to throw you over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” You scream, literally kicking and slapping as he marches down the beach and into the water while laughing.
“Wait! Wait! My phone!” JJ stops, his hands tight on the backs of your thighs before slipping up to your shorts pocket and retrieving the device.
“Any last words, cupcake?” JJ taunts, letting his free hand rest on your ass as you stare down at his. Your heart was racing and fire was burning in your core just from the close proximity. His hands on your body made you feel overwhelmed with need. He was right about you needing to cool down.
“Please don’t! I’ll.. let you take me for a ride on your bike!” You cry, clinging to the back of his shirt for dear life. JJ chuckles, running his hand up and down the back of your thigh like he’s in deep thought.
“I can take anyone on a ride. What else?”
“Ugh, what do you want then?”
JJs hand stops, his back straightening before taking a few steps further into the water, the waves crashing against his knees now and making him unsteady. You cry out in frustration, digging your nails into his back and making him hiss.
“I want you to apologize.” JJ finally says, bouncing from one foot to the other to keep his balance.
“Fine! I’m sorry!”
“Nope. Let me finish.” He taunts, pulling you off his shoulder to cradle you in his arms. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck, drawing yourself as close to him as you can get and away from the water.
You glare at him as he nibbles that bottom lip of his, a wicked grin forming as the waves continue to rock him on his feet.
“I want you to apologize—,” He leans in, his lips suddenly brushing your ear, “—on your knees while you suck my cock.” You eyes widen and your pussy pulsing, suddenly hungry with everything he could offer. But you didn’t want him to know how desperately you needed to be fucked or how your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him.
“And what’s in it for me?” You whisper back, barely containing your excitement. JJ grins, his arms tightening around you as he leans closer to flick his tongue across your lips.
“I’ll get you wet in the way that you want. The way that has you moaning my name and ripping at my hair and soaking my sheets with cum.” Your entire body shudders in his arms as you find yourself leaning in to kiss those lips. His tongue darts out again, flicking your top and bottom lip when someone calls his name from behind him.
“Yo, JJ!” Someone yells again, making JJ growl against your lips before slowly lowering you to your feet.
“We aren’t done.” JJ whispers before turning to face whoever is trying to get his attention. You quickly stepped away from him, making your way up the bank and back to the party. The throbbing between your thighs was intense. You couldn’t believe you were ready to mount him right there in the water. It was JJ Maybank of all people.
You groan before snatching a bottle from an empty lawn chair and downing as much as you can stand. Surely alcohol would calm your pussy down.
“You look like you’re trying to forget.” A sexy voice says off to your right, making you turn to fine the source. It’s Topper, looking fine as ever with his blonde hair a mess and wearing nothing but swim trunks. He was delicious.
“I am.” You smirk, reaching out to offer him the bottle of liquor.
“I don’t know you.” Topper points out, keeping his eyes on you as he takes a long gulp of the liquor.
“Do you want to?” You ask innocently, moving closer until your legs brush his.
“Hey, Top!” JJ drawls, stumbling forward and dropping a beer bottle, a goofy grin on his face. Topper shoots him a glare and you step back, the mood soured.
“What do you want, Pogue?” Topper snaps.
“Is that your blue Jeep? I think i just saw someone hooking up in it.” JJ gasps, mocking fake surprise. Topper falls for it, jumping from his chair and making a beeline for his Jeep.
“You motherfucker.” You hiss, JJ’s drunk ruse dropping and a satisfied grin forming on his face.
“Time to pay up. Let’s go.” JJ takes your arm and leads you into the darkness covered by trees and tall grass.
“I wouldn’t suck your dick even if you paid me.” You snarl, not pulling your hand from his even as he leads you to his bike parked on the side of the road. He throws his leg over the bike and motions for you to get on the back.
“Come on or we can do it here.” You pause, noting the smirk on his face.
“Or I can just bend you over my bike and give you what you really want.” JJ counters, biting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down your body.
“What makes you think I’d fuck you?” You snap only to jump back when JJ swings back off his bike and advances on you like a hungry lion. You stumble, your back meeting a tree as JJ cages you in, his rigid body against yours.
“Because.. your pupils are dilated and you clench your thighs together every time I talk. When you do look at me, your eyes can’t decide where to look. My mouth. My body. My dick.” JJ’s hand comes up to cup the back of your head, clutching your hair and forcing you look up at him.
“You’d do whatever I told you to if it meant you got to cum.” JJ whispers, ghosting his lips over your own. You shudder against him, your mouth dry, and your core aching to be filled.
“If you don’t stop biting this lip, I’m going to bite it for you.” JJ snarls, prying your trapped lip free with his thumb. You lean into him, tracing the feel of his skin against yours.
“Come with me.” JJ snatches your wrist, leading you down the road where John B’s van sits.
“JJ.” You scoff, as he opens the sliding door and forces you inside. He climbs in behind you before slamming the door shut behind. When he turns to face you, his eyes are almost black with need and his erection strains almost painfully in his shorts.
“I’ve had it with your smart fucking mouth.” His hand cups the back of your neck and yanks you forward, smashing his mouth to yours. All your restraint dissolved and your hunger seized your body. You fisted the front of his shirt, kissing him back with such fever that your teeth clanked and your tongues collided. JJ yanked you onto his lap, digging his fingers into the swells of your ass as he grinds you on his cock.
You pull his shirt off. He unties your top and tosses it behind the seat. You tear at the button of his shorts and he cups your pussy over yours. It begins a competition of who can get there first. Your hand wraps around his thick length, making you falter for only a moment while he grinds his palm against your clit.
“Jesus, you’re big.” You admit, making him grin against your lips between puffs of breath as you began to stroke him.
“Take your shorts off.” He demands, lifting you to your feet for only a moment and yanking the material down your legs before pulling you back on top of him. Moans and pants fill the air as you touch each other, drinking each other in until you’re dizzy with lust. JJ’s fingers slide between your thighs, his palms against your clit causing you to jerk.
“Don’t tease. Just fuck me. Fill me up.” You plead, not caring how desperate you sound.
“Say please.” You bare your teeth as he lines himself up with your entrance then nudges your clit, sending sparks through your limbs.
“Say, I’m sorry for being a pain now please fuck me JJ.” JJ instructs, his grip not letting you sink down. You were so wet and desperate you didn’t care anymore.
“I’m sorry for being a pain now please fuck me.” You pleaded, digging your nails into his shoulders just as he slipped inside.
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kjd55 · 1 year
Text
strawberry-scented body wash
in which rafe shows up on your doorstep, soaked from the storm outside, and stays over. things get a little heated.
content warnings: finger sucking, making out, rafe being unrafe-like and actually kinda nice?? bad writing?? i haven’t posted on here in over a year so i am rusty lol also this is unedited but enjoy
a knock on the door downstairs has you groaning and pushing away from the desk you’ve been seated at the last few hours, chipping away at the homework you’d been neglecting this week. 
with final exams around the corner and college applications already sent, you were doing your best at fighting the infamous senioritis, albeit not doing a great job.
jumping down the stairs to get to the door as quick as you could, you shouted a “coming!” from your spot halfway down the steps. 
you weren’t expecting anyone over, and when you finally open the door to find a soaking wet rafe cameron standing  on your doormat, rain splattering onto your floor from the unexpected weather, you grabbed his wrist to pull him inside, desperate to keep the floors and more specifically, your socks, as dry as possible.
“what are you doing here?” you ask awkwardly once you’d shut the door. as much as you hate to admit it, you’ve had a crush on your best friends brother for a while. which sounds ridiculous, considering the fact that he loathes you, and your entire existence, for some reason. 
he tucks his bottom lip into his mouth, glancing up at the ceiling, either in embarrassment or annoyance. probably both, and mutters, “my car broke down, and it’s literally pouring outside and uh..” he rubs the side of his face, another indication of his indignation, “well, you’re the only person i know around here and i was wondering if i could like…”
“stay here until the weather gets better?” you sigh, noting the hair matted to his forehead as he nods. “sure,” you reply, watching his shoulders sag in relief, “but only if you change your clothes, because you’re dripping wet.”
you turn around, silently cursing at the way you said those last few words. your cheeks grow hot when rafe snickers, catching onto it too.
not checking to ensure that he’s following you, you make your way back up the stairs, “i have something for you to wear.”
you don’t look at him as you hand him a hoodie and pair of sweatpants from your wardrobe, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are.
from the corner of your vision though, you see his eyebrows flick up. “there are literally my clothes,” he chuckles, and you want to die of embarrassment. you hope he doesn’t notice the fact that’d you’d picked them from the top of the pile. (they’re comfy to sleep in, okay?) “these are from when you threw up on yourself at that one bonfire and sarah made me give you my—“
“yes! yes, i remember, it was mortifying. i think about it too often,” you blurt, finally facing him and crossing your arms over each other, trying to make yourself as small as you feel. “my bathroom is over there,” you point towards a door behind your shoulder, “get dressed, ‘cus you smell.”
he says nothing, settling for rolling his eyes while walking towards the bathroom, and shuts the k door. you ignore how there was a subtle shine when he’d realized you still wore his clothes.
you settle on trying to finish your homework, and while you do, you hear your shower turn on. good, you think, knowing you’ll have more time to focus instead of bickering with him. still , you swallow a lump in your throat at the thought of rafe in your shower, and squeeze your eyes shut. stop being a perv.
after about 15 minutes, a few after the water was turned off, the door cracks open, and you glance over to find rafe make his way to you, wearing the sweats, and of course, no hoodie. you again focus on your work, but you feel as he leans himself over your chair and watch as you complete calculus questions. 
you can’t concentrate, feeling the heat radiate off him, him arms on either side of your preifereal vision, and you groan, “do you mind— hey!” you whip your head over, and glare at the man towering over you, “did you use my body wash?!”
a corner of his lips tilt up, amused, and he shrugs. “so what if i did? also there wasn’t much left, so you’ll probably need to go buy more later.”
you scoff, knowing there was at least enough to last you until the end of the week (it was a monday). smelling the strawberry scent wafting off him, you stand, leaning against the front of your desk to try and close of the large gap in height between the two of you. 
you regret this immediately, because now you have no choice but to make eye contact, and the look he gives you is scathing. your cheeks grow hot at the lazy look he gives you, your faces less than an inch apart. 
you wet your bottom lip, which is suddenly dry, and his eyes flick down, watching almost predatorily as you try to tuck your bottom lip away from his gaze. 
this always seemed to happen with the blond, anytime you were alone together, which was not often (for this exact reason), tension was always a third factor. you’d met him three years ago, when you’d gone to sarah’s for the first time and saw him, instantly growing a bedrudging crush on him.
you remember one night, where you were alone in the kitchen about a year and a half ago, when you’d been hoping to grab a glass of water before bed, and realized rafe was already in there.
he’d been on the other side of the room, and you tried to ignore his presence, with it being late, and not wanting to try to act normal in his vicinity (something that took too much energy out of you), you opened the cabinet with all the glasses. 
embarrassment warned your skin when you’d realized there was nothing within reach, but before you’d have to ask, you’d felt rafe’s presence warm your back. he’d pressed a hand for ‘support’ (you know he was trying to tease you), and reached up to grab one for you. “you need to grow a little taller,” his voice rasped in your ear, sliding that damn hand to your waist, and squeezing a little. 
you hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until he’d stepped away, you instantly feeling cold, at the loss of warmth, and shakily filled that glass, turning away to go back to sarah’s room.
remembering that time, and the situation you were in now, you grow hot under his stare, and instead decide to grow a pair and examine him. maybe try and make him squirm like he did to you, so easily.
starting with the apples of his cheeks, you noted a very faint littering freckles, only a few, that carried onto his nose. 
unconsciously, you follow the urge to look back up to his eyes. if you were in a sound state of mind, you’d feel nervous. but with the way his eyes were half-lidded, eye lashes drooping so prettily, you couldn’t help but raise a hand to one of those lightly freckled cheeks.
his eyes widen ever so slightly at the unexpected move, and he swallows, shifting his body a bit. you know you’ve leaned closer to him, your noses only inches apart, but you wait to see what he’ll do. 
you can’t help the feeling deep down that he’ll reject you. maybe you’re just another girl in his endless supply. you suppress that rational part of your brain, the one that’s been leading your thought process for too long. it’s not like you’ve ever seen a girl around him, not even at parties. if they’d ever tried talking to him, he’d shrug them off.
you feel his scorching touch where he grabs hold of your waist, pulling you a little closer, and a gust of air escapes you when you feel a thumb caress the underside of your ribs.
you stand there for a few seconds, really looking at each other. no one’s said anything for a while, but you don’t care. you don’t think anything rational would come out of your mouth anyway.
one of his hands creeps up, along your arm, up your neck, and holds your cheek now, too. he traces the shape of your bottom lip, and by accident, a noise meekly escapes your throat at the touch. his pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible, and he taps your lip with his thumb.
you realize there’s only one thing you could do right now, and hesitantly open your mouth. he slides that thumb in, and when you close your lips around it, he groans, watching your half lidded eyes as you begin to suck.
after a minute, he removed his thumb, and you don’t even have time to react before he’s smashing his lips against yours.
it isn’t a gentle kiss, by any means. it’s harsh, unforgiving, and so rafe. he takes control of every movement, and your grateful because you can barely function, so turned on by the entirety of what is happening right now.
your arms wrap around his neck, an attempt to deepen the kiss, if that were even possible, and you feel his tongue lightly trace your lip. you moan, into his mouth, and his hold on you tightens.
you feel so good right now, so wrapped in his presence. even though he just used your body wash, you can still smell him, that unmistakable scent overpowering the artificial strawberries.
he finally breaks away, lips puffy and wet, and watches you gasp for air. he smirks, satisfied with himself, and at the fact that he’s done the thing he’s been wanting do to for three years, and hopes that you’ll let him do it again.
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gretavanbear · 4 months
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All Eyes on Me
a/n: hey guys! just a little something for u since i love u guys and got inspired. i hope u enjoy <;3
NSFW 18+!
Jake Kiszka POV
the feeling of having all eyes on you was something you became obsessed with. of course, sharing the stage with your three brothers took a part of it away, but you always knew how to get the attention right back. it became one of the most rewarding feelings for you, having everyone needy and wanting.
and so you became a monster once those eyes tracked your every movement. you felt lucky they couldn’t hear you, because the animalistic groans that left your lips as you touched the strings and caressed your guitar would leave them a fucking mess.
tonight, the air felt different. you were in europe, feeling frisky. you knew your fans were expecting you to act different, with the moustache you’d been growing out the entire break off tour.
you had been playing extremely hard tonight, your mouth almost constantly open to let your ragged breaths out, the slight moans escaping your lips as your cock rubbed against your guitar ever so gently. you knew how much they liked it, seeing you all sweaty like this, wanting to taste the sweat that travelled down your chest.
you knew how much they wanted it.
your mind went blank once you raised the guitar to your face, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the whammy bar.
yeah.. scream for me. you thought.
you heard the roar of the crowd as you bobbed your head against it, letting the sound of it travel around the arena, knowing how it’ll affect them.
you felt yourself throbbing in your satin pants, hoping the stain of your precum wouldn’t show through the material, luckily the show was almost over and your sweet relief was awaiting for you soon in your hotel room.
-
stepping out of the shower, you sighed whilst brushing your hair after drying yourself off. still rock hard from earlier. you had edged yourself a couple times under the water but you wanted to know what they thought of your little act.
you laid down in your comfortable hotel bed, fully naked in your favourite attire to please yourself this way.
you turned your phone on and pressed the ‘x’ app, logging on to your burner account. it had no followers, and a random username where no one could guess it’s you.
usually, you’d look through your bookmarks where you kept your favourite posts that people wrote about you, mostly about your body, the way you touch the guitar.
but tonight, you had given them something to talk about.
scrolling through your timeline, a video of you with the guitar against your face was all you could see.
user: “i wish i was that guitar”
yeah… i wish you were too..
you grabbed the base of your cock, caressing it with your fingertips softly grabbing it, teasing yourself a little.
user: “he definitely knows what he’s doing”
so, can you see through my little act? god i love the way you all want me..
your eyes fluttered shut as your hand movements increased, gripping yourself a little harder now.
user: “he knows how to use his tongue doesn’t he”
i do… fuck..
you threw your head back, moans escaping your lips as you began to fuck into your hand, thinking about the way you acted, the way they all loved it.
user: “does he know I’m a set of holes for him”
god damn.. why don’t you let me find out, hm?
you never had anyone specific in mind when reading these, just knowing someone was out there wanting you was enough. you could feel your orgasm approaching but you wanted more, you wanted to keep going. you slowed down your hand movements and stroked slowly, scrolling through more posts.
user: “he’s literally tongue punching his guitar on stage when is it my turn”
door’s unlocked babe..
fuck. they just get you, don’t they? they know you love it, they know you love basking in their attention. it fed you. the horribly horny monster that resides inside you, waiting to be teased.
user: “i need him to fuck me NOW”
have i got you all wet and dripping for me, honey? oh i’m sure i have..
you groaned as your orgasm took over, you were desperate now. fucking into your hand as your cum leaked all over your fingers, hitting your chest and a part of your neck. you really needed this. you breathed out a string of curses as the final drops of cum leaked over your hand.
“fuck..” you giggled to yourself as you looked at the mess you caused.
you knew you could always count on your fans to treat you right.
taglist :
@sarakay-gvf @positivegvfthings @brokenbells11 @krystalm98 @shutupdevvie @milkgemini @jordierama @​​maddie-van-fleet @writingcold @gretavanfleas @jakes-eyebrows @spark-my-nature @lek-gvf @rad-space-princess @joshkiszkatoothgap @hippievanfleet @objectsinspvce @gvfficrecs @ageoffleet @welllauragvf @weightofstar @groupiegirlie08 @fwzco @nicoleghost18 @andromeda-raine-gvf @sarrrahhh @ren-ni @zoe-tally06 @hellowgoodbye @aminaalilyy @spinthehemmo @hippievanfleet @streamofgvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @brokenbells11 @gvfpal @gvfmarge @jakeygvf21 @Timeless—classics @mackalah @myleftsock @bubblyjake @valvebone @lexii-nv-c @mp0801 @hellowgoodbye @girldonttryme @risingwiththeheatabove @fakeplastiqtree @beckahvanfleet @lunaaaat
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bits-and-babs · 1 year
Note
This is only the first of what I hope will not be too many, but here we go! 🗝 Joel Miller + Country cowbow aesthetic. Because why not?! <3
⋆ 𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖
CountryCowboy!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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word count: 1.1k
warnings: soft af, made my heart ache, playful flirting, literally such southern stereotypes written by an English Woman. Dry humping. 18+ ya nasties!
summary: Retired Rodeo-Cowboy Joel Miller settles down on his ranch with his number one fan.
joel masterlist I| main masterlist |I follower celebration I| ask |I
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“They’re more hassle than they’re worth, y’know?”
A smile pulls at the edges of your mouth the moment his complaints reach your ears. His gruff voice drips with sarcasm, but you keep your eyes on the horses that prance around the paddock. They lift their hooves with synchronised grace, performing a dance as they clopped across the dried soil.
“That may be,” you muse, brushing your palms over the planks of wood that contained the mares. They’re beautiful beasts, their coats shining beneath the sunshine that the rim of your Stetson shields your face from. “But they’re mighty fine.”
The mocking southern accent you respond with has Joel pushing his elbow into your side.
“Hey!” You burst into a fit of giggles, the laughter bubbling from your throat before you’re able to suppress it. When you look up, Joel’s face is flat, that typical ‘Clint Eastwood Stand-off’ vibe that he always emanates, but his eyes betray him. There’s amusement swirling in his deep tan-leather irises.
Joel rests his palms on the wood, too, casting his gaze over the field. He’s handsome like this, you think, the dying gilded sunshine painting his face golden. It’s clearly crawled under his skin, cheeks glowing a subtle pink with sunburn and making the greys of his beard starker amongst the brown. His matching salt and pepper hair is windswept from working all day in the summer breeze.
It’s ridiculous, you think. All these years together, travelling to rodeos and spending most of your time hiding behind your fingers when he wrestled steers, you still felt the butterflies erupt in your stomach when you looked at him. He’d since hung up his bulldogging boots, ‘far too old to be wrangling bullocks’, and had taken up a much quieter life breeding horses for racing.
“You know,” Joel smirks, not bothering to look at you when he teases you, “You’re always talkin’ ‘bout how pretty they are but spend all your time lookin’ at me.”
“Shut up,” you scoff, tearing your eyes away from him and folding your arms across your chest with an indignant huff. The rumbles of a chuckle reach your ears, and you can feel your cheeks heat up.
“It ain’t so bad, you know,” he speaks softly, trying to ease your embarrassment, “It’s nice to know an old man’s still got it.”
You can’t stay mad at him for very long. That southern charm that effortlessly and unknowingly bleeds through each word works its way between your ribs and lassoes your heart with such ease. Again, you find yourself smiling, turning to look at him again. He’s unable to smother the grin that’s threatening to stretch across his lips, the edges of his mouth twitching.
“You’re not an old man,” you promise, reaching your hand across the small space between you. You hook your finger under the metal of his belt buckle and pull him towards you with a grin. He arches a brow at you pointedly, and you shrug with a grin. “Mhm, okay, maybe you’re a little old.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, watching you smooth your hands over his hips and waist.
“The kind of old that makes a man even more handsome,” you promise him, unable to look him in the eyes and choosing instead to drag your eyes over the tanned skin that glistens with sweat just beyond the collar of his flannel, “You age like whiskey, Joel.”
“Jack Daniels or Southern Comfort?” He asks, and you can feel his gaze dancing across your face, burning into your mouth and tracing your lips.
“Mhmm…” you hum softly, finally braving his stare and looking up at him. His eyes are dark with a rich need, hungering for your lips on his. “Redbreast.”
He can’t stand it anymore, you think, leaning down suddenly to press his lips to yours. They’re slightly dry from the heat, and you can taste the salt of his sweat. His body heards you against the fence, his work-worn hands dragging over your thighs and hips with a delicious hum that pools arousal between your thighs.
“Joel,” you breathe into his mouth. It comes out a little more desperate than you’d like, a little needier, but Joel doesn’t complain. His hands are hoisting you up, settled just beneath your ass, so your legs wrap around him.
“These fuckin’ jeans,” he huffs, frustrated when he lightly slaps your ass. Again, you’re laughing, knowing he hates them. They hug your figure just right, too tricky to get off in a hurry. “Just gonna have to make do, aren’t I?”
You’re unable to question him, to ask what he means, because he’s immediately grinding his hips against your own in a way that adds just the right amount of pressure to your clit through the seam of your jeans. Fuck, he’s rock hard beneath you, clearly turned on by your ridiculous teasing and the way you melted at the sight of him.
He swallows your moans with heated kisses, tongue dragging against your own. Fuck, his hands are squeezing at the flesh of your ass through the denim, enjoying the handfuls he steals.
It’s deliberate. The slow, heavy arcs of his hips when he grinds into you, focusing all the pressure on your clit with expertise only he could offer. He’d mapped out your body after all these years, the peaks and troughs of your structure memorised like the landscape of his ranch. Joel knew every pleasure point of your body, how to work them to his advantage and to your detriment.
“Fuck,” you whine softly, feeling him smirk into your shared kiss. Leaning your head back, you sigh when he pulls his lips across your jugular, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your pulse.
“Kiss your mother with that mouth, Darlin’?” He questions you, and you answer with a pointed, open-palm slap against his shoulder. He chuckles again, but responds with another heavy drag of his hips.
“Ohfu-“ you choke out, tears welling in your eyes. He just ruins you, just picks you apart and puts you together again so that all you can think about is the throbbing arousal that shoots up your spine.
“You gonna give it to me, Darlin’? Come on, Sugar. Come on,” he whispers to you, that gravelly tone sparking something honey-sweet inside of you. It’s not the lighting crack that he usually produces. No, it pours through you like molasses, slow and rolling and dripping between your thighs. A soft, drawn-out moan of Joel’s name pushes its way from your lips, and he praises you as your thighs squeeze him tight.
“Mhmm, Good Girl,” he hums, planting kisses along your jaw with a grin. “Don’t think I’ll have to work hard to wrangle you into bed, will I?”
He doesn’t.
END
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talesofesther · 1 year
Text
tender as the rain
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Summary: You find Wednesday walking alone in the rain.
A/N: If you ask me what this is, I'll be inclined to punch you, lovingly. Literally the result of my boredom and procrastination. Read at your own risk.
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Puddles of mud and water splash around your feet. You're running, or more so walking really fast. You don't want to look desperate, even if you feel it.
The woods are awfully nightmarish with the pouring rain, big drops of water hitting the leaves create sounds that get you on edge. But Wednesday is nowhere to be seen and last you knew she was looking for some old abandoned meeting house in the woods.
She can take care of herself, you know it. However, it doesn't ease the incessant beating of your heart.
You find her following footprints that you were unknowingly walking over. She greets you with a scowl, hair clinging to her forehead and raindrops trickling down her chin.
It's a little awkward, your hands rise to touch her but you stop yourself midway. For a beat, you thought Wednesday seemed confused as to why you stopped, but the look is gone before you can fully register it.
"What are you doing?" You ask a little breathlessly, tasting the rain on your lips as you speak, subtly checking her over for injuries, "the statue dedication is happening soon, you should be getting ready and not… walking in the rain."
That was a good enough excuse, right?
"I'm alright," Wednesday reassures you first, and you mentally curse the way she can read you like an open book, "I was trying to learn more about Crackstone, and following a monster."
You sigh in relief, falling into step beside her as you start walking back to town. Only then do you open your umbrella, it won't do much now that you're already soaked, but it gets Wednesday walking closer to you.
"Without me? I'm hurt," you smirk, though not as confidently as you wanted to.
"Not my fault if you were preoccupied handing out fudges with Bianca," Wednesday huffs with a bite to her tone.
She refuses to look at you, choosing instead to focus on the immensity of the trees around her. You, on the other hand, follow the path of a rogue droplet of rain with your gaze; it drips from her hair and goes all the way to the corner of her lips. You can't help but notice her sullen eyes, the purplish lips, the trembling of her hands.
She's cold. She's been out in the rain much longer than you had.
"You could've said something, I would have come with you," you tell her quietly, feeling the rain soak through your sneakers.
"I didn't need you." Wednesday is still looking away when she mumbles it, so you don't catch the turmoil in her eyes; the fact she'd rather say that, than admit she would never willingly put you in danger.
You're used to the pain that comes with loving her, "yet I'm here anyway."
Weathervane's bathroom doesn't offer much in terms of helping with the wet clothes that cling to your body, but it would have to do.
Yours and Wednesday's coats are draped over one of the bathroom stalls, still dripping; while you do what you can to dry the rest of your clothes and your hair with paper towels.
Wednesday sits on the sink's counter, her hands clasped together on top of her lap. She's only in her white shirt, a few buttons undone; her hair is free of braids, cascading over her shoulders in black waves to dry faster.
It's unnerving how she still refuses to look at you.
This happens sometimes, you'll do something or say something that you can't exactly pinpoint and it'll get Wednesday distancing herself.
Casting a glance at her rigid figure, you bunch up a few paper towels, dampening the edge of it and moving closer to the raven-haired girl. It's only when she looks at the general direction of your face, that you speak; "may I?"
With her nod of consent, you stand between her legs and raise the damp paper to her eyes; she closes them before you even touch her cheek, you can feel her tensing under your touch. Her skin is still cold to the touch, but not as much as it was before you got out of the rain. You refrain from wrapping her body in a hug.
You're gentle with the way you clean the smudged eyeliner from below her eyes. You can feel her breathing fanning over your lips; unsteady, heavy.
Wednesday is gripping tight onto her skirt, and you don't think she realizes the way she starts to lean into your touch.
"Maybe you don't need me," you start in a hush, not sure where you're even going with this, "but you don't need to be alone, you can choose to have someone if you want."
You turn your attention to her hair next, separating one side into three strands and carefully placing one on top of another.
"Either way," you bite your tongue, wondering if you're digging your own grave, "you can tell me to go anytime, and I will."
At last, Wednesday's midnight eyes finally find yours. She looks at you for a long time.
You're close, so close you can count each of her freckles. It feels intimate. And you don't know Wednesday realizes it too. You don't know she's never had this with anyone; that it terrifies her.
She reaches out to you then; nimble, cold fingers tracing the edge of your jaw as if you'd crumble under her touch, "I can't ask that of you."
She tugs at the lapel of your shirt before you can ask why, pulling you to her until you have to brace yourself on the edge of the counter she's sitting on. You're warm on her, a warmth she's grown obsessed with — how foolish, to think she'd be able to escape the Addams family curse.
"As much I'd prefer otherwise," Wednesday pecks the corner of your lips, a kiss that's barely there at all. You feel her words on your skin, "I need you all the time."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @simp4wanda26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes
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gnarlycrys · 1 year
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NSFW Alphabet | Eustass “Captain” Kidd
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A/N - I’ve literally never written any sort of stories/ one shots/imagines on here. Ever. However, I felt the need to write this as my own interpretation of what I think Kidd would be like with this interesting alphabet 👁.
Female Reader Implied.
MINORS UNDER 17 / AGELESS BLOGS DNI
A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex):
💢 Don’t expect him to clean you, cause he won’t. “You’ve got hands, do it yourself,” type of guy. The most he’d do is throw you a rag or cloth to clean yourself with while he gets dressed and leaves.
💢 Unless you’ve been dating for some time to where he genuinely cares enough about your being, he’ll clean you up as gentle as he can before tossing the rag aside and smothering you into his scarred chest and falling asleep. (Beware, he snores)
B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partners):
💢 His; his dick fleshed hand. He loves it over the fact he can manhandle you with it as he pleases; feeling all over your soft plush skin as he caresses your curves, breasts, and ass. He loves when you fall putty under his touch, feeling the vibrations of your moans as he wraps his hand around your throat or when he entangles it in your hair to bounce you back on his cock that’s abolishing your soaking hole.
💢 Yours; dat ass lmao. Who would’ve thought? This red-head is most definitely an ass man and no one can convince me otherwise. The sight of your ass bouncing on his cock as you ride him facing away or whenever you’re throwing it back on his dick, it’s so mesmerizing to this man. Not to mention how crazy it drives him with how sexy he finds it, he’ll never let those visions go out of his mind. He finds that jiggle and recoil insane.
C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically):
💢 Inside you. Seeing as his seed drips out of your hole after fucking you stupid is no doubt, one of his favorite sights to see. He’ll make sure you take it all by using his fingers and stuffing all of it back inside you.
💢 If not inside, definitely on that ass. Seeing his juices coat the flesh of your ass makes this man hard again.
💢 Or, if you’re destroying his cock with some fire head, he’ll hold your head down and make sure you swallow every load of cum he has to offer until your throat milks him dry. He’ll make sure you’ve swallowed it all, “tongue out,” if he sees it’s all gone, “good, little slut.”
D - Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs):
💢 A horndog (for you). If he’s horny and you’re out running errands or doing something outside of the Victoria Punk, he’ll make way into your bedroom (or shared bedroom) and sprawl out on the bed. He’ll grab the pillow you sleep on before whipping his cock out and using your scent on the pillow to get him goin’. Your scent makes it all of the pleasurable for him. If you’re lucky enough, you might find him in the room, secretly waiting for your return so he can rail you into the mattress.
E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?):
💢 Decently experienced. This fool isn’t a virgin, he’s had his fair share of flings before getting with you.
💢 He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’ll pay close attention to the reactions of your body as well as the expressions of your face when he touches or rams himself in you. Kidd knows what areas you like to be touched or that feel the most pleasurable.
F - Favorite Position (This goes without saying…):
💢 Reverse Cowgirl; as stated before, Kidd’s an ass man. He lives watching the jiggle and movement of your ass as you slide up and down his dick. He also enjoys the sight of its recoil as he rams himself into you.
💢 Doggy Style; man, those back shots drive you and him to the brink of unfathomable pleasure. Grabbing a fistful of your hair as he rams you back on his cock brings him absolute euphoria.
G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they numerous, etc):
💢 As serious as he can be. Kidd wants every second of sex to be the best possible, he doesn’t see the point in making silly jokes and getting distracted from his main goal in those moments (To make you cum). He’s more focused on drilling you into the bed, keen on hearing every noise you can make with the satisfaction he’s giving you by filling you full of his thick cock.
H - Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.):
💢 As red as his hair.
💢 Doesn’t shave nor does he care enough to keep it tidy. Shit’s a jungle down there, it’ll irk him if you comment on it too. Unless you ask him nicely to trim, he might take it into consideration (he won’t do it). Either that or he’ll get pissed you even asked in the first place.
💢 “The hell’re you yappin’ about!? Hair’s hair. I’m not shavin’ it. Deal with it or fuck off!!”
I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…):
💢 Kidd isn’t romantic in the slightest. Who the hell do you take him for? He hates that sappy shit.
💢 As rough as his personality. A Dom. He’ll manhandle you however he wants (with your consent, of course). Although with his roughness, his kisses are passionate and fierce. He’s rough, yes, but it’s never too rough to the point where he’s hurting you. (He’s a little sappy, but he’d die before he says he is).
J - Jack Off (masturbation):
💢 Yeah, he beats his dick. Only in situations where you aren’t available when he gets horny. If he’s frustrated he’ll relieve his stress with a quick jack off and go on about his day.
K - Kink (One or more of their kinks):
💢 Bondage; Kidd gets off whenever he’s able to tie you down to the bed to have his way with you. On the rare occasion, he might allow you to tie him to the bed and let you lead.
💢 Degradation; his mouth’s filthy. More so during intimacy. “You’re such a dirty little whore.” “Look at you, crying like a bitch.” “Such a filthy slut, my slut.”
💢 Praise; despite his degrading tactics, he’ll praise you if that’s what you’re into. Either way is a turn on for him, and he appreciates it whenever the gesture is returned. “My good girl.” “Takin’ my cock so well.” “Look at you, crying so pretty with your hole stuffed of my dick.”
L - Location (Favorite places to do the do):
💢 The shower. He finds it so unbelievably hot when you two are in a compacted space, your bodies pressed together, your breasts sloshing against his own as lukewarm water pours down your bare skin. Ah yes, fucking you in the shower is definitely his go to.
💢 The bedroom. If he’s feeling it in the moment, he’ll wanna fuck you in his bed, un-restricting the loud noises of intimacy and moans the both of you elucidate. He wants everyone in the ship to hear how good he fucks you.
M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going):
💢 Seeing you fight your ass off in the midst of a battle, whether it’s against marines or enemy pirates. God, it turns him on seeing your ass and tits bounce with each move you throw. He can feel how hard his cock throbs within the restraints of his pants.
💢 Oh, and when you’re beating your opponent to a pulp, their blood splattering on your knuckles, face and clothes. Don’t even get him started. Watching you release your anger on the enemy almost makes him feel sorry for em’, but lord does he have to restrain himself from fucking you right then and there.
N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):
💢 Anything that involves piss, shit, intense bdsm, whatever weird and out of pocket shit there is. He won’t do shit that’s gonna hurt you.
💢 Role play. You’ll never catch this man role playing, he wouldn’t do it even if you asked. He finds that shit humiliating and honestly pretty fucking stupid. Your chances of getting Kidd to role play are slim to none.
💢 Pegging. Just don’t. Don’t even try to convince him. He’d probably kick you out.
O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc):
💢 Kidd prefers receiving. He enjoys watching you struggle to take the entirety of his dick in your mouth, saliva pooling and dripping at the corners of your lips with mascara smeared around your eyes from the tears. The sounds of you choking and gagging amuse him. He finds it cute that you’re trying so hard to impress him by swallowing him whole.
💢 When he does give though, his tongue works wonders. He loves swirling circles around your sensitive clit with his wet muscle, sliding and flicking it away through the folds of your labia that make you wriggle and squirm. The sounds of your moans and whimpers make it all the more enjoyable for Kidd. He loves the way you taste and eats your pussy like it’s a fine diner.
P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.):
💢 It’s Eustass Kidd we’re talkin’. His momentum screams fast and rough. That’s just how he rolls.
💢 However, there’s moments where he feels lazy when he’s in the mood to fuck. He’ll lay you in your side as he slides his cock in from behind, lazily bucking his hips into your cunt as his arm wraps around your chest, pressing chaste kisses onto your neck.
Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.):
💢 All for quickies. As often as possible.
💢 If you’ll be separated for awhile, a quickie is his way of sending you on your way. If you’re on a mission together, that is, he won’t mind taking you off somewhere for a quick sesh. “A quick fuck for good luck.” Headass
R - Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
💢 Hell yeah, it’s fukin’ Kidd. He’s always up for challenge to prove himself or win, it’s never neither.
💢 Whether it’s fucking you with the door unlocked, behind an alley or even out on deck. Being walked in on or caught turns Kidd on to the max because he’d continue to fuck you regardless of the embarrassment you’d get out of it. (Poor Killer has fallen victim to things he’s never wanted to see because of his best friend’s antics with you).
S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…):
💢 This one-armed fool could last until the dawn of a new day. His stamina’s pretty insane.
💢 Rounds and rounds to no end. Especially after an intense battle where the adrenaline rush is still kicking and going, it’s enough for him to do you all night.
T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?):
💢 He doesn’t own any of his own, but he wouldn’t mind if you had your own that you wanted him to use on you.
U - Unfair (How much do they like to tease?):
💢 The biggest fucking tease, but he hates being teased??? This guy doesn’t make sense.
💢 Try teasing this man and he’ll throw you over his shoulder and stomp to your shared bedroom. Don’t expect for him to show you any mercy from there on.
V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make):
💢 He doesn’t moan. He groans.
💢 Kidd isn’t very loud when it comes to his grunts and groans, but they’re audible and it drives you wild. He’ll notice whenever his dick slides in and out of you with more ease, your cunt growing increasingly more wet than he even thought was possible.
💢 He’ll leave the moaning and mewls all to you. He grows even harder when your sounds fill throughout the room.
W - Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character):
💢 He fucking LOVES when you baby him. He swears he hates it because it’s sappy but just receiving tender kisses whether it’s on his face, lips, chest, hands, god he loves it so much. It makes him feel so appreciated and loved by you. Running your fingers through his hair is a bonus. (He’s never gonna admit it either, it’d hurt his pride).
💢 Little spoon. You cannot and will not convince me that he doesn’t like being the little spoon during cuddle sessions.
X - X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):
💢 8.5-9 at most. Uncircumcised. Kidd’s a big guy, practically 7 ft of course he’d be packin something.
💢 It’s holds more girth than length, even so it fills you up in all the right spots.
💢 Pulsating veins, has a long one that runs from the base and all the way up beneath his flushed red tip.
Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):
💢 Oh, he has a high sex drive alright. He’ll be fucking you 2-3 times a week. Doesn’t seem like much but it is with all the quickies he throws in there. He’s always yearning for your pussy.
Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards):
💢 Dawg, as soon as he nuts, he’s out. Out like a night light for real. He’ll crash out with you lying atop his chest.
Live laugh Kidd. Hope you enjoyed :>.
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evelzzzk · 1 year
Text
Ladies, I present you... his lips.
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Imagine Aemond brushing your cheeks and chin slightly with his soft swollen lips right before he kisses you, slowly, passionately, his tongue fighting your own over dominance. When he finally breaks the kiss to catch a breath, you whine at a sudden loss of his touch and he only smirks cunningly seeing your visible discontent. His puffy mouth finds its way down to your neck, nibbling and biting every scrap of your sensitive skin, making deep, purple-red marks and bruises to make sure everyone knows that you’re only his to claim. You moan quietly and you tilt your head back to give him better access as he keeps on sucking and nipping you from the crook of your neck to collarbones. He grows seemingly impatient as his hands sneak underneath your nightdress, kneading your breasts like a piece of dough and pinching your hardened nipples, twisting them between his fingers. After a moment he ultimately rips the chemise off with a one, swift move of his hand and you’re quite impressed with his strength and how easily he could break you if he wanted to. You stand before entirely naked, your dainty figure trembles when a gust of cold wind hits your skin and your tits bouncing lightly in the rhythm of your heavy breathing. His only eye is devouring you, trying to memorize every curve of your magnificent body, his lascivious smile is literally steaming from the raw desire. He pins you to the wall behind you with his whole weight, grabbing your one thigh and pulling it up to his narrow waits and holds it firmly, you could feel growing bulge in his pants, rubbing against your core, already filling with slick. You start to rock your hips back and forth his taut crotch to gain some more friction but he stops you by pressing his other arm to your stomach and you whimper with disappointment.
And your Prince continues teasing you as he gets to your shapely boobs, his dexterous lips sucking and kissing their fragile flesh and he completely loses himself while he engulfs the soft mold. Breathy moans keep on escaping your parted mouth when he carries on coddling you with his damn tender lips and you involuntarily run your fingers through his silky silver-blonde hair, not wanting him to stop. But for Aemond it wasn’t enough as he still was grappling with an insatiable need to taste you, to drink all of your juices until you run dry and weaken, being fully sated beneath him. Without further ado, he starts slowly to make his path down your belly with his hot tongue and mouth, not leaving an inch of your body untouched or uncaressed, marking it with wet traces of his saliva. At last he reaches your pubes, filling his nostrils with the scent of your heated femininity, there was such bliss written on his face, as if he were a hungry wolf that has just scented his bleeding out prey by its bloody tracks. You are so desperate for him to start fucking you with his tongue already that you push forward your pelvis against his face, so his warm breath brushes all over your soaked folds and clit, merely spurring them. But he only smirks, being amused by your fussiness as he doesn’t give in to your pressure, not a bit. ‘So needy, huh?’, he asks mockingly when one of his fingers strokes your pubic crease, just above your exposed clit and he does it so gently that it’s almost irritating. You’re mewling with want. ‘Worry not, ñuha gevie riñītsos (my pretty little girl). I will give you what you desire and much more. And I won’t stop even if you beg me to.’ As if nothing had happened, he puts your one leg on his portly shoulder so that your pussy is at the perfect angle within his tongue reach. While his one hand holds your ass firmly to give you more support, his other one grasps your waist to prevent your shaking form from falling down.
For a moment he watches a trickle of your juices dripping down your inner thigh, almost hypnotized by the sight, but then he starts licking every single drop from your knee bend to the groin, wet feeling of his tongue makes you go soft as your stretched legs are getting wobbly. You see that he is no longer able to control himself, the taste of your liquids makes him go feral and in a split second his tongue springs out, lapping on your drenched folds, slowly at first, making small circles over your slit. Your ringing shriek fills the room and you start to tremble so hard that you have to clutch the nearest curtain to regain your balance. Your hips start to rock rhythmically, urging him to set a faster pace but he stops you, grasping your thigh painfully, nearly leaving bruises on it to warn you to do not hustle him further more.
When you cooled yourself down and finally obeyed his silent command, he resumed his movements, drinking all your juices like a starved man having a feast at last, with nothing more on the menu than your sweet nectar. His long nose rubs your clit as his tongue keeps on lapping on your soaked cunt, sucking it in and biting it gingerly, sending shivers through your spine, while you’re moaning like a common whore. Your screams and groans are like music to his ears and he is ready to do everything to coax more and more of them from you as all that he desires is to give you the greatest pleasure that he can provide you and he wants to know that you are wholly satisfied and sated. He’s whispering dirty words in High Valyrian as if that would make them more sophisticated. He talks so sweetly and praises you, how good and obedient girl you are, how he loves when you moan for him and that very sound makes him so hard that it hurts, how he could eat nothing more but you for the rest of his life and he would die to taste you even once more. How beautiful your pussy is when it’s so wet and ready for him, that he could fall asleep with his face between your folds or with his enormous cock buried deep down inside you. His words alone could make you come right now, at this moment, but you look down to see his face pressed between your legs, guzzling all your slick, his chin glistening with limpid fluid and he licks it off greedily, wanting for more.
At last his tongue finds its way through your hole, slipping in and out, fucking you with his mouth at delicious pace, enough to stimulate all the right spots inside your walls as his serpentine muscle torments your core relentlessly. You couldn’t help but to spur your hips moves and this time he doesn’t deter you, allowing you to gain desirable friction, at whatever angle or position you wish. His finger joins his caresses as it seizes your clit on view, making small circles with just fingertip and that alone drives you insane and you squeal wildly as he torments your poor bud of nerves. He doesn’t stop his tongue movements as it continues to push in and out of your dripping pussy at a frantic pace, he adds the other finger to penetrate you deeper, more severely and you were ready to cum just at the very sensation of it, feeling you walls starting to clench around his digit. When he notices that he purrs delightfully, being ready and willing to drive you into your first climax. Aemond carries on overstimulating your overwrought clit, slightly biting and nibbling it, just enough to fillip your already sharpened senses. After a short moment, he slips second finger through your needy cunt, pumping into you in a killer rhythm, stretching your walls to the limit, pounding and squashing them violently. And it was already too much for you, you felt that you were about to reach your peak as you couldn't stop clutching around his fingers, your pussy sucked them in so tightly that he barely could move them. ‘Aemond, I-I’m going to cum... Oh Gods...!’, you whimper as you feel your entire body shaking, chills running through your every nerve. ‘Come, ñuha gevie (my beautiful). Don’t hold yourself back’, he coos, not interrupting neither his tongue nor fingers moves, driving you through your orgasm.
And you come so hard that it washes you over like a flood, all your limbs are numb, you’re quivering so much that you think you’re going to pass out and slump down that wall within a second but your Prince holds you strongly, not letting you fall. You weren’t aware of it until you looked at his face, but you squirted, spurts of your liquids dripping down his cheeks and chin, even running down his muscular torso. You blush like a ripe beet, being abashed of yourself and your own pleasure. But he only smiles heartily at your embarrassment, showering your face with tender kisses and gently wiping off your juices and tasting them with a deep hum to assure you that there is nothing to be ashamed of and he’s proud of you and of himself of course - after all, it was he who managed to make you so happy. He caresses your face softly with one hand, praising you how well you did for him and he wants to make you cum again, while his other hand is still inside your spent pussy. You look at him scared, being afraid that you might not handle another climax as you are literally whacked after this one, your head is still dizzy as if you’ve just guzzled a whole bottle of wine. ‘Aemond, p-please... I-I can’t take more... I can’t do it, please...!’, you chirp, feeling as his fingers start to ravage your poor cunt again and he merely chuckles mischievously, hearing your whining, only to increase the number of his fingers inside you to three. You scream tearfully as he tears your walls apart, stretching them to the impossibility. ‘Of course you can and you will, little dove. Sing for me once more, ñuha hontes (my bird).’ And you sing, filling his waiting ears with your intoxicating moans, getting louder and louder every time he thrusts his fingers into you at an unimaginable pace or licks all the juices off of you until you're completely dry. You knew full well he wouldn't rest until he'd tricked you into orgasm after orgasm, and there would be nothing left from you but a complete mess, squealing underneath him. And you didn't mind that, you've always loved his sweet tortures.
I'm back!!! I'm back from the tumblr jail, and it turned out that it was some mean glitch. I'm so happy and decided to celebrate this by posting this one-shot. In a few days I should post 6th chapter of my series, meanwhile here's the Masterlist if you want to catch up with my work -> Dragons eat Seahorses series
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btw sorry for any mistakes, I've wrote that one quickly on my phone and english isn't my native language. And yeah, the pic of his puffy lips alone inspired me to write this short drabble. This man's got a total hold on me and it's about time to confess it, lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! xx
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lowkeycasanova · 2 years
Text
free da curls
vinnie hacker x curly haired reader
You help Vinnie do his hair
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———————————————
You walked in the bathroom to find Vinnie standing in front the mirror.
He let out a sigh. Tugging at the dry pieces that seemed to be in more of a wave pattern.
I need a new curl cream, he thought.
“What’s up with you?” You asked with an raised eyebrow.
“I need help with my hair.”
“Help with what exactly?”
“Like…trying to make the curls more defined I guess.”
He’d seen you do your own curls before. He watched the way you would rake the products through your hair with ease and you looked so confident doing it. And your hair came out great every time.
Vinnie became frustrated with his hair because he couldn’t figure out why his curls flattened out in a day and got dry easily.
Because you had just recently perfected your routine, of course you'd help.
You excitedly said yes and wasted no time telling him to get on his knees so he can lean over the bathtub so you could wash his hair.
As you do it, you use lukewarm water first and wet his hair thoroughly because that's what opens up the cuticle. You keep it soaking wet while you shampoo. And before you condition, you squeeze most of the water out so the product can better adhere to the hair.
You also had to deal with Vinnie complaining about things.
"My back hurts."
"There's shampoo in my eye."
"Water's too cold."
But you were done in ten minutes.
You wrap a towel around his neck before he stands up but he's about to use that towel to dry his hair.
"Don't do that!" you exclaim.
"Why?"
"The material of the towel is too rough for your hair. It results in dry or frizzy hair. I have an old t-shirt you can use. That's better because it's softer material.”
He stood there with water dripping down his back while you took the shirt from your drawer. Upon coming back to him, you take the shirt and gently dry his hair with it.
You catch him staring at you with a smile in the mirror and ask, “What?”
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
You told him that he could sit next to the bed, so he walks out while you grabbed your styling products.
Clutching them in your arms, you sat down on the edge of the bed while Vinnie sat on the floor, so his head was between your legs.
You first took a wide tooth comb to run through his hair then followed up with a fine tooth comb to get any smaller tangles out. Now going in with a leave-in-conditioner, you told him that it was better to put the products in when the hair isn’t super saturated with water, because this way, the products bond to the hair better, like the conditioner in the shower.
He put on Jojo’s Bizzare Adventure to watch while you styled his hair. You meticulously applied the products to his hair, all while explaining why you were using them and what they did.
If someone else was there watching, it would’ve looked like a mother doing her son’s hair. He was also doing a good job at being patient.
You then put moisturizer and sectioned off his hair, twirling the pieces around your fingers to form the best ringlets you could. He didn’t have curls like his dad but they still looked good.
Finishing off with an oil to seal in moisture and a gel for hold, Vinnie admired your work by being the pieces of hair that fell in his face.
You got up from behind him and for some reason, he laid his head down on the bed.
“You’re literally gonna mess them up!” You told him and dramatically wiped the bed to get any excess product that may have gone from his hair to the blanket.
“Sorry.” He replied before standing up to stretch and following you into the bathroom where you put the items back and he looked in the mirror.
“This is probably the best it’s ever looked. Thanks.”
“Your wel-“ you couldn’t even get the whole word out because he picked you up and spun you around.
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celtic-crossbow · 3 months
Text
Whumpuary Day 1-2
Prompt: Snow
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood; head injury
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gif by r66dus
“Why are we patrolling when we can’t see ten feet in front of our faces?” You were yelling into the wind, only satisfied that the archer may have heard you when he turned halfway. 
“Wha’?” Daryl called from beneath the bandana that shielded the lower part of his face from the biting cold. 
Taking a deep breath, you moved your scarf aside and shouted louder. “Why are we—” The slightest crinkle next to one eye gave away the smirk hidden beneath the black and white patterns. “I hate you!” You could barely hear him chuckle. 
“No, ya don’!” At least he was kind enough to wait for you to trudge through the steadily deepening snow to reach his side. “Ya should head on back if it’s that hard on ya!”
“Please. Like I’d leave you out here alone!” You sputtered indignantly when he ruffled your toboggan hat. The man knew exactly how to rile you up, and he did it as often as possible. Though you acted perturbed, you actually enjoyed the times you could see a smirk or a small smile. 
Daryl smiled a lot more these days. It was one of your favorite things in the chaotic, dystopian world. After Rick and with the Whisperers still lurking, you wouldn’t blame him for wearing a permanent scowl like the old days. 
“We can cross over here n’ circle back.” He pulled down his bandana and motioned toward the frozen river. “Froze solid. Won’ fall through but be careful anyway.” He started across, sensing you weren’t following. “Wha’re ya doin’?”
“Keep going. I’ll catch right up.”
“Y/N, wha’re ya doin’?” He repeated more sternly. 
“I need to pee, Daryl!” You frowned when he smiled and there was the slightest bounce to his shoulders. “It’s not funny.”
“Yer gon’ freeze yer ass off.” The ‘literally’ hung in the air, but you knew he was thinking it. “G’on then. Ain’t nothin’ I’ve not seen b’fore.” 
You pouted. “You can’t watch me pee!”
“Ya do it ev’ry mornin’ while ‘m brushin’ my teeth.”
“Yeah, but this is more…open!” When he titled his head with a look that clearly stated you can’t be serious, you huffed. “Shut up, that’s different too!” Your cheeks were suddenly warm, even against the frigid gusts. Daryl had been up close and personal with your lady bits more than you could even begin to recollect. 
With a grin, he held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep goin’. Slow. Wanna be close jus’ in case.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, daddy.” When a dark brow arched, you feigned displeasure and grabbed a gloveful of snow and tossed it at him. “Go away, pervert.” He was still grinning as he turned to put a little distance between the two of you. Pants and underwear were down to your knees quickly, the urge nearly unbearable by the time you’d convinced him to keep moving. You couldn’t stop the relieved groan even if you’d tried. 
You had expected to hear him laugh but thankfully, the wind was just too loud. With the wonderful lack of toilet paper, drip-drying was the only option left to you, though you were certain your vagina would be full of ice by the time that happened. After several moments, you pulled up your pants and secured the button and zipper, then your belt, curling your lip at the yellow patch of snow. The apocalypse was gross. 
“Done!” You announced cheerfully loud. 
“Wash yer hands?” He chuckled when you were close enough. 
“Oh, shut up and walk.” A handful of poncho enabled you to spin him around and shove him forward. You were smiling to yourself when the hairs stood on the back of your neck. It wasn’t from the cold. “Daryl.” It felt like someone was watching you. Your eyes met his. He had felt it too; was already pulling his crossbow from his back. 
“C’mon.” He motioned you closer while you each surveyed your surroundings. The Whisperers had been absent since the cold had set in, but it was possible they had returned. Over the scream of the harsh wind, neither of you heard the low growls coming from below. 
Daryl yelped when a hand caught his ankle and gave a sharp tug. You could only watch as his boot slipped and he tumbled, the back of his head bouncing off of the ice with a sickening crack and splatter of red across white. His weapon slid to a stop several feet away.  
“Daryl!”
The walker was trapped in the snow, only one arm and half its face exposed. Enough for your blade to find its mark. Dark, congealed blood covered your knife as it fell next to the archer, your hands on him immediately. He remained unresponsive to each shriek of his name, but you had to find some measure of calm to assess his condition. 
Breathe in. Breathe out. 
The frosty vapor that formed in front of his lips showed him to be breathing. You quickly removed a glove to press your fingertips to his neck, finding a thready pulse rather quickly. With the gentlest touch you could manage, you slowly, carefully lifted his head, nauseated at how boneless he appeared. You were terrified of moving him. Head and neck injuries were never a thing to play with, even in the old world when hospitals were abundant and functional. 
Holding his head only slightly off the ice, you whimpered at the moderate amount of blood that had covered the pale surface. Head injuries bleed a lot. He’s fine. He is fine. Your teeth were nearly puncturing your bottom lip while you probed the back of his head blindly. Through his wavy hair, it was difficult to find the injury straight away. Once your quickly numbing fingertips pressed onto a swollen split in the skin, you were forced to turn his head for a better look. 
The laceration was small but deep, most likely near to the skull. You couldn’t see bone, but the snow and blood made that nearly impossible. For now, you needed to take care of the blood oozing from the wound and over your fingers. The cold would help with the active bleeding but you unwound your scarf and placed it behind his head. Why the fuck didn’t you bring medical supplies and food on patrols when shit like this was a distinct possibility? 
“Daryl.” You said loud enough to be heard over the wind but with a calm that betrayed the panic stirring within your chest. You had to move. The two of you freeze if you remained. There was also the possibility of walkers or Whisperers, and you were sitting ducks. “Come on, baby, wake up.” The pet name flowed out easily, reserved for intimacy or comfort. 
You were met with unrewarding silence for a moment that seemed to last forever but finally, your archer groaned and grimaced. He made to turn his head before even opening his eyes, gagging almost immediately from the pain that surely accompanied the movement. 
“Stay still for a minute. You’ve got a concussion for sure but I’m worried about more.” You soothed, rubbing his chest in lieu of touching his face or hair. “Getting back is gonna suck. Take some time to get yourself ready.”
“Survived worse.” He slurred. You didn’t need to see his pupils to diagnose the head injury. He had hit so hard that you wondered how the ice didn’t splinter from the impact. You kept a sharp eye on the surroundings to buy him some time. Both of you knew what the journey back to the gates would entail, short as it would be. “Le’s get outta ‘ere.” Daryl shifted toward his side to get an arm beneath him. He had yet to open his eyes, likely knowing the tilt of the world that awaited. 
“Slowly.” You kept your hands on his arms, his shoulders, prepared to assist and comfort. “That’s it.” The archer barely made it to a sitting position before retching, cognizant enough to turn the opposite direction from you. Your hand rubbed circles over his back, a grounding comfort that was also a display of gratitude for not vomiting on you. “I’m sorry.” Your heart ached with a need to draw the pain from him and take it upon yourself. The whimper that followed the sick was the only indicator of the agony the action had likely caused. 
“M’ready.” He panted. 
“Okay, let me grab your crossbow.” You scooped up your scarf, stuffed it into your coat pocket, took carefully swift steps to collect the weapon and strapped it to your back as you returned to his side. “Okay, grab my shoulders and pull yourself up slowly. I’ll help balance you but you go at your pace, okay?” There was the slightest dip of his head in an almost nod before he thought better of it and mumbled an ‘okay’ that you couldn’t even hear. 
You planted your feet, watching the area for any signs of threats while Daryl used you to begin levering himself upward. At the first pull of his weight, you grunted and he let go. 
“It’s okay. I’ve got you, baby. I promise you won’t hurt me.” You smiled, hand on the crook of his shoulder with your thumb stroking his collar bone. He didn’t balk at the endearment, not even the usual scoff. 
“Okay.”
The process began again. Daryl was stout, but the challenges of surviving had helped you build strength. While it wasn’t easy, it was not impossible for you to bear the added weight. On his feet, the archer swayed and granted you the first glimpse of his unfocused blue eyes. One pupil was noticeably larger; worrisome but you couldn’t do anything about it. He needed medical attention that the infirmary could hopefully provide. 
You were quick to grab his elbows and steady him when he stumbled backwards. “You’re vertical. I’d say we’re making progress.” One of his arms pulled across your shoulders, the two of you embarked on what promised to be a difficult trek home. 
You’d only been walking for about five minutes, when Daryl lurched forward and vomited, painful heaves that made keeping him upright nearly unattainable. He groaned, clenching his eyes shut and spitting onto the dirt. 
“You can do this. Just hold onto me.” You frowned at the hardened blood on the back of his neck, frozen into flecks by the bitter cold. 
The process repeated several times and by the time the gates were a looming shadow beyond the whiteout, Daryl was putting nearly all of his weight on you, toes of his boots dragging with each slow step. 
“Almost there.” Your voice was no longer reaching him. As the gates opened, the archer went down and dragged you along with him. You began shouting for help, silhouettes of your friends growing more perceivable with each hurried step. “Help! Daryl needs help!” 
Your worry for him was overriding the urgent voices surrounding you, blurred hands coming into view to settle on your archer. You had no choice but to step back and allow them to take him, following in a daze while more hands guided you along. The panic you had stored away was finally able to break free. 
You cried. 
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Stitching the wound had been a brutal excursion. Daryl needed to be held down as the near frozen skin, hypersensitive in the heated infirmary, was forced together. Aaron and Gabriel assisted, their guilt for the required intervention was evident in both faces. You sat in front of him, whispering encouragement and reminding him how much you loved him. The archer vomited from the pain alone before unconsciousness mercifully claimed him. 
Without the means to confirm, Daryl was released on strict bedrest in case of a skull fracture. He could sleep as long as you were near to monitor for any changes in his vitals. He would become confused, nauseous, and irritable. You were there to hold back his hair, mindful of the stitched wound. You needed to remind him of where he was and what had happened. At one point, he had even asked for your help in finding Merle, who had died years before. 
After a while, he settled and dozed, Dog on the bed with his furry head on the hunter’s thigh. You finished your list of chores quickly, placing a steaming bowl of soup and a cup of tea on the nightstand by your side of the bed. Daryl was awake the moment you had stepped inside the room. Damn hunter’s senses. 
“Hey, Humpty Dumpty. How are you feeling?” Settling yourself with your knees resting against Dog’s side, your fingers gently brushing back Daryl’s hair. The archer hummed, and caught himself seconds before he would have moved his head to scowl at you for the nickname. 
“Had worse.” He croaked. 
“Doesn’t mean this can’t hurt like a bitch.” You countered immediately. The archer hummed once more. It probably hurt less than speaking. You had helped him clean up just after his release to recover at home. If he was stuck in bed, you were going to make damn sure he was comfortable. The flannel pants and Ozzy t-shirt at least made him smile. “Do you need anything?” You adjusted the blanket Carol had left once during a visit. 
“Jus’ you.”
You smiled, your face and neck flushing. You pressed your lips to his temple, the brush of your mouth against his skin but a mere whisper. 
“You’ve had me for a while, Mr. Dixon. That’s not gonna change now.”
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lostquinn · 1 year
Text
Late nights
Connor (dbh) x gn!reader
Fluff,, pure fluff 😌
The prompts for this one come from this lovely post! Go leave them some love 😌
Summary - Connor returns home rather late from work, and all he wants is for you to hold him.
It's literally 3am and I can't sleep so I was scrolling tumblr, came across that amazing post of inspo and had to write about my favourite boy - feel free to send in asks !! I don't biteee
Also... Connor is tired in this. Don't question it, don't think about it, just get distracted by the fluff 😌
Word count - 898
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Rain came down heavy onto your window, piercing through the night as you waited for the return of your boyfriend. You and Connor had been seeing each other for a while and it was normal for him to come visit you after work.
He would always get Hank to message you if he wasn't going to come and you had received no such message so you were determined to stay awake to see him, even if it was only brief. Your heart would leap at any chance to catch a glimpse of him.
As the hands on the clock made their way closer to midnight, your worry and frustration grew. You should have received some sort of message. By this point, thunder had begun to fill the air.
With a sigh, you stood from your space on the couch, where you had nestled up with a blanket as you waited for him, and began to move towards your bedroom before your front door swung open.
Instantly, you turned to him. You had your blanket wrapped around your shoulders and your somewhat frustrated expression melted away when you locked eyes with him.
He was soaked from the rain, his hair stuck to his forehead as he stood in your doorway, leaving a puddle at his feet. He soon closed the door, locking it behind him as he stood staring at you nervously.
You stared at him, his movements seemed heavy and tense. It had been a long day for him and it must have exhausted him. His lips turned upwards into a smile as he approached you.
He held his arms out briefly before wrapping them around you tightly, holding you against his chest. Connor placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you looked up at you.
You always excepted hugs from your boyfriend so you wrapped your arms around him, despite the fact that you could feel your clothes getting damp.
"You're staring, darling," he furrowed his eyebrows, assuming something may be wrong.
"I like seeing you happy love, even when you're dripping wet,"
His features softened and he placed a kiss on your temple, softly whispering. "I dont want to let go,"
"If you take shower and get all dry you won't have to,"
He responded with a simple nod, letting go of you. He instantly missed your warmth until you grabbed one of his hands, his free hand clutched your hand as you lead him down the hall to the bathroom. He didn't want to let go of you, it was sweet seeing him this way, usually it was you that couldn't let go.
You pressed a kiss to his lips once the two of you stood outside the bathroom. His hands cupped your cheeks, not wanting to lose contact with you. He smiled into the kiss until you pulled away for air, he looked at you through sleepy eyelids, pouting slightly at the loss of contact.
"Go on, I'll be in the next room," you spoke softly before pushing him into the bathroom.
Quickly, you changed into your pajamas, knowing he would be as efficient as possible so that he could return to you faster.
As you ran a hand through your hair, you felt a pair of arms snake their way around your waist. Connor nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and you brought your hand up to his now dry, yet still messy, hair.
"Do you want to get into bed?" You leant your head against his.
"Not yet," he mumbled into your skin. "I just want to live in this moment,"
You smiled, feeling his soft skin on yours and brought your free hand to rest on top of his, swaying slightly as you enjoyed his embrace.
Your eyes drifted closed as you focused on him, your hand running over his, eventually settling as you clutched his fingers. The feeling of his hair in-between your fingers was not alien to you, he often asked for you to run your fingers through his hair.
He hummed into your neck, sending vibrations across your skin and a chill down your spine.
"Bed time now," he muttered, dragging the two of you towards your bed.
He was the first to hide under the covers, pulling you close to him as soon as you hit the mattress. Connor nuzzled against you, you watched his every move as his nose bumped into yours. His eyes opened wide has he looked at you, staring for a moment before a breathy chuckle escaped his lips and he closed his eyes once more.
Your own chuckle joint his as you moved your head to kiss his nose. You were each tangled in the others limbs, holding each other in an intimate silence. The weather outside completed the atmosphere of the room he clung onto your body.
Eventually, you had moved to lie on your back and he was somewhat on top of you, his arms wrapped lazily around you with his face buried in your chest. One of your hands playing with his hair as you closed your eyes.
"I love you," He mumbled into your chest.
You hand stopped in it's movement and your breath hitched in your throat. Neither of you had uttered those words to the other yet.
"I love you too, Con," you responded, your heart swelling as you embraced the moment.
@urfriendlywriter
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