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#my eyes hurt though and i lost my voice
startears0153 · 4 months
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☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep
How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.
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☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio
☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part
Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)
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Argenti
Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile. 
For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.
Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure. 
That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes. 
For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep. 
His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow. 
After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name. 
“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?” 
He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort. 
Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his. 
If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.
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Blade
It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory. 
How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics. 
If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin. 
So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes. 
Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return. 
And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core. 
Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems. 
So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake. 
“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.” 
You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say, 
“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”
You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.
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Dan Heng
The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds. 
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream. 
Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you. 
Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition … 
… Only to find you crying in your sleep. 
Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue. 
“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.” 
The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out. 
In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms. 
Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.  
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Dr. Ratio
After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!
He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory. 
Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk. 
Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed. 
He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else. 
Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes. 
Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers. 
“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!” 
You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more. 
You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder. 
“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.” 
It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same. 
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Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀
Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.
Thank you for reading 💖
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grumpypixistix · 5 months
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The lab assistant
Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Shy!Reader
Warnings- Face sitting, slight corruption kink, slightly perverted!Miguel (if you squint), co-workers being dickheads, semi-public sex (let me know if I missed anything! )
MINORS DNI 18+
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You had been working at Alchemax for a few months now. A few of your colleagues were generous enough to introduce you to the workplace and the other workers, but there was one person you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.
Miguel O’Hara.
When you first introduced yourself to him, he had already taken a liking to you. Something about how shy yet sweet you were made his pulse quicken and his cheeks burn. The way you smiled at him as you tried to introduce yourself, nervous about your first day at Alchemax. But you quickly felt at home when Miguel began to bond with you by taking over your “tour” of the place, making great conversation. Soon enough, your shell had cracked and you started talking about your personal interests, how you got hired, etc.
About a week after that day, he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about you for some reason. He didn’t know what to make of it, thinking it wasn’t too serious.
But then you started appearing in his dreams.
Miguel would dream about leaving marks everywhere on your body to claim you as his, fucking every ounce of innocence out of you.
And when he would wake up in a cold sweat, his cock was nearly on the verge of exploding, precum dripping everywhere. He felt guilty about it afterwards, it was just wrong for him to think about his colleague like that.
But you plagued his mind consistently. The dreams slowly turned into daily thoughts that he finally caved into, fisting his cock at least four times a day to the thought of your body. But you had no clue what he was doing after he got off of work. You just assumed that he only saw you as a co-worker and nothing else, maybe even a good friend.
But God, were you so far off from the truth.
As you entered the building for another shift of the week, your boss had approached you with some new information.
“I’m really sorry this is a last minute notice, but I need you to stay a little later. I tried to get some other people to stay instead, but all of them couldn’t do it… but on the bright side, Miguel volunteered to stay, so you won’t be completely alone.”
Great, just what you needed. A longer shift after your horrible week.
Even though some of your colleagues were nice to you, there was a group that wasn’t as generous as them. Some of them claimed that you were too clumsy or stupid to be an assistant, others claimed you were like a lost dog or a prude. Whatever they said, you tried not to pay attention to it too much. But there were days where it would get to you, and this week happened to have a bunch of those days.
You just nodded at your boss and shot him the best smile you could muster up.
“Alright then, that shouldn’t be a problem, sir” You said in a friendly tone.
“At least Miguel will be here with me… maybe I can talk to him, get my stress out” You thought to yourself as you walked off to start your shift.
When you walked into the lab and took your coat off of the hanger, you could hear some voices from the other side of the room.
“Oh great, look who’s here.”
“God, I don’t even know why she’s still here. She should’ve been fired months ago, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”
“I’m surprised Miguel even hangs out with her, she’s such a prude.”
“Hell, you should’ve seen the look on her face yesterday. She practically bursted into tears when we called her useless.”
The other comments stung a little, but what got you the most was the part about Miguel. Sure, you had developed a small crush on him, but that had nothing to do with your guy’s friendship. The fact that the other colleagues had judged your bond just to get a laugh hurt you more than you felt it should’ve.
God forbid if they ever found out about your feelings for Miguel… you couldn’t help but become paranoid over the idea.
As you tried to ignore the group across the room and focus on your tasks, it seemed that one of them had read your mind and called you over.
Shit.
“Hey, newbie! Come over here real quick, we gotta ask you somethin“ One of your colleagues called out.
Your heart pounded hard inside your chest, quietly gulping before walking over to the group with a small sigh.
“What do you need?” You asked gently, silently praying it was something work-related and not just making fun of you again.
Some of the others chuckled and chattered a little bit before falling quiet.
“Sooo, you’re friends with Miguel, right?” The female colleague from before asked.
Your palms began to grow sweaty as sirens went off in your mind, biting your cheek before answering.
“Yeah, why?” You raised your brow at your co-worker.
Your co-worker slowly smiled. Oh no.
“Well, we were just thinking… with the way you act around him and all… you definitely have a thing for him, don’t you?”
Your whole chest sunk to your stomach, wishing this was just some horrible dream and that you would wake up soon. Trying to play it off, your eyes widened at the question and you shook your head vigorously.
“What?? No, he’s just my friend-“
“That wasn’t my question. I asked if you have a thing for him” She cuts off coldly.
Some of the others snickered quietly, making your throat close up as you tried to hold your emotions back. Your face contorted into confusion at the strange question, the others taking notice of it.
“Oh my god, she’s clueless” One of the colleagues muttered with a small chuckle.
Your co-worker lets out a small laugh as she noticed your face, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.
“Here, let me dumb it down for you: do you ever fantasize about having sex with Miguel?”
Your whole face flushed bright red as it clicked into your head, slowly shaking your head.
“N- No… that’s… that’s wrong” You stuttered, looking at your co-worker.
She stares at you with a raised brow, not believing you at all.
“Okay, sure… but you still like him, right? Being a prude and all, surely you at least have a crush on him.”
“Please, don’t call me that-“
“Or what? Huh? You gonna run off to your little boyfriend and cry in his arms? I’m sure he’ll baby you, he does every time he sees you” She hisses.
The feeling in your throat grew even stronger, your eyes slowly beginning to water. But you didn’t want to prove her theory, so you just stood there silently, not knowing what else to say. As the silence grew more, some of the colleagues just laughed.
“Wow… you really are stupid, aren’t you?”
“Who’s stupid?” A voice emerges from the entrance of the room, making everyone fall silent.
It was Miguel, standing with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. The group of colleagues weren’t laughing or smiling anymore- instead, they actually looked nervous. The female coworker looked over at you for a quick moment before flashing a smile at Miguel.
“Oh, nothing! It was just something we were talking about from yesterday. Right, hon?” The co-worker said in an overly sweet tone, forcing herself to smile at you.
You froze, not wanting anymore conflict with the group, so you just went along with it. You quietly nodded your head and looked over at Miguel, giving your best smile.
“Mhm, it was just stuff from yesterday” You mustered up as your voice shook a little.
Miguel didn’t buy it at all, seeing how your eyes glistened, tears threatening to leave them at any second. He shot your co-worker a glare before looking back at you, a sigh leaving his lips.
“Ah, alright then… do you have the paperwork from last week? I just wanna make sure everything is right” Miguel spoke to you, his face softening a little.
You quickly nodded and walked away from the group to your clipboard that was in one of the desk drawers, skimming through the pile of papers to look for the documents. The group just watched as you eventually found the papers Miguel was referring to, handing them to him. He took out his glasses from his coat pocket and put them on, reading the sheet of paper. After a few moments of silence, Miguel took off his glasses and looked over at you, handing the paper back.
“This is perfect. Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen paperwork better than this and I’ve worked here longer than anyone else has” Miguel praised, a gentle smile formed on his lips.
“Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot to me” You hummed in appreciation, returning the smile.
The praise alone made you forget about the whole situation from earlier, but the smile comforted you even more. Your cheeks burned up as you felt your whole body tingle, a small smile creeping up your lips. The feeling Miguel made you have was insatiable, you just couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more of him, to have his lips on yours…
You almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Almost.
The sound of low muttering made your head turn towards the group, the co-worker giving you a dirty look before the group parted separate ways. You set the paper on the table and Miguel leans down to whisper in your ear.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
Your head spun when you felt his warm breath tickle your skin, almost not realizing what he just said. When you finally processed it, you looked at Miguel and nodded a little. For once, you were actually kind of glad your boss made you work later.
After hours of working and following Miguel around for assistance (as he asked for your presence), it was time for the others to go home. Usually, you would be getting off at this time, but since you had to stay later, that meant you would have to pick up dinner on your way back home. You didn’t really mind since it would save you time and energy to make food at home.
Plus you didn’t mind since it meant you could spend more time with Miguel.
Speaking of which, you couldn’t help but notice something was a little off with him. You assumed it was because of what happened earlier, because he seemed a little more tense than normal. But after everyone had left, he looked over at you, glad that the two of you were finally alone. You were finishing out today’s paperwork, slouching over the desk as you tried to fight off your tiredness. Miguel walked over to you and gently took the pen out of your hand, turning your chair around to face him.
“Everyone left, it’s just us. Now… about what happened earlier…” Miguel started, bending down to your height, “Tell me. What exactly did they say to you?”
Your face burned up a little as his face was inches away from yours, struggling to find your words. He just stared at you, waiting for an answer. But after a few moments of silence, his face softened and he let out a small breath, resting his large hand on your thigh.
“I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise. I just want to know what’s wrong… when I got here, you were on the verge of tears” Miguel spoke softly.
The feeling of his hand on your thigh made your chest flutter and your stomach turn, trying to keep your composure as much as you could. He was only just trying to comfort you… right?
“They… they were asking me questions…” You began, still debating whether or not you should leave out a few details.
Miguel hummed a little as he listened to you, his other hand now on your other thigh as he gently caressed your skin. Your stomach felt fuzzy and warm, avoiding eye contact with him.
“Questions about what? C’mon hermosa, you can tell me” He coos, tucking a small strand of hair out of your face.
You swallowed hard and bit your lip hard before answering hesitantly.
“They were… questions a- about you.”
Miguel stopped and looked at you, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.
“What did they ask about me?”
You stared up at him for a few moments and finally spoke again.
“They… they were asking if… I liked you” You whispered quietly.
That caught Miguel off-guard.
His eyes widened at you just the slightest, analyzing your face to see if you were messing with him. Once he noticed your flushed cheeks and nervous look, he knew you weren’t joking. After a moment of tense silence, Miguel licked his lips and started talking.
“…Do you?” Miguel asked lowly, looking down at your lips and up at your eyes.
His question had you in a slight panic, weighing out the odds. If you told him how you felt, it would either change your entire friendship or you would be stuck working alone for the rest of your time at Alchemax. Either one of those options sounded horrible, but if you didn’t tell him now, you were certain the group from earlier would do it eventually. Your heart raced so quick, Miguel swore he could hear it clearly. A shaky sigh left your lips and you nodded at him.
“Yeah… I do” You mumbled, scared that he would react negatively.
But instead, Miguel just chuckled softly and smiled at you, his hand cupping your face and his thumb dragging down your bottom lip.
“That’s good to know… because I’ve also liked you for quite some time now” Miguel responded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
Your eyes widened at his response, a look of hope on your face as you slowly smiled.
“Really?” You squeaked.
Miguel chuckled again and nodded at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips.
“Of course I do… how could I not?” He whispered, his face slowly inching closer to yours.
Your face flushed all the way to your ears, finding yourself drifting towards him. Closer, closer and closer until you finally feel his warm lips on yours. It felt like hundreds of fireworks were exploding in your chest, slowly wrapping your arms around him and holding Miguel close. You were almost afraid to let go, and he seemed to notice this. Miguel gently moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and into his arms. The more you kissed him, the harder it became for Miguel to keep his composure. He wanted to take things slow with you, not wanting to scare you away. But God, was it a challenge for him to just keep his hands on your hips.
After a little bit, Miguel finally broke the kiss to catch his breath, already panting softly. He looked at you and let out a groan that awoken something inside you.
“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” Miguel huffed quietly, his thumbs barely peeking up the hem of your shirt and rubbing the bare skin of your stomach.
You just stared up at him, your mind still foggy from the kiss you two had shared moments ago. You shook your head with a quiet “No…”
Miguel sighed and looked down at your chest, his cock twitching inside his pants. He didn’t even bother hiding his erection anymore, moving your hips against his to show you the effect you had on him. You let out a gasp at the strange feeling, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your whole body felt hot now.
“I can’t help it… you’re just so fucking sweet… you haunt me in my dreams, I swear to god. Every night when I go to bed, all I can dream about is you and that fucking body of yours… all just for me.”
Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to say those kind of things to you. Normally, you’d be freaked out or even scared… but something about the way Miguel looked at you made you feel different. You weren’t sure if it was from the kiss earlier or your feelings for him in general, but you felt… ready in a sense. When Miguel saw your eyes widen at his words, his face dropped as he suddenly became worried.
“…Was that too much?” Miguel whispered gently, his brows furrowed together.
You slowly shook your head and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“No… I- If anything, I… I sometimes have dreams about you, too…” You admitted with a quiet tone, looking away.
Miguel nearly went off the rails when you told him that, his pants feeling tighter around his dick. He moved you closer to him once more, moving your hair to the side.
“Mierda… Tell me about your dreams…” Miguel mumbled against you, pressing slow kisses to your cheek and down your neck.
Your thighs pressed together as a wet patch formed in your panties, your stomach flipping as you felt his lips against your skin. A shaky breath left your mouth, nearly moaning from how good it felt to have Miguel treat you this way. It was definitely wrong, but it felt so right. If anyone else had stayed with you two during the late shift and caught you like this, you’d be fired on the spot.
But nobody else was here. Just the two of you.
“S- sometimes I dream about you k- kissing me like this… and even…” Your voice faltered as you quickly grew shy again, biting down on your lip.
Miguel kissed and nipped at your neck, leaving little marks on your skin.
“Go on, Cariño…”
You swallowed before speaking again, letting a soft moan slip out.
“Even… touching me…”
Miguel moaned at that, causing your head to spin even more. You felt so hot that you swore you were going to pass out, but luckily you didn’t. He moved up to place a firm kiss on your lips, pulling away to look at you.
“Have I done anything more than just touching you in your dreams?” Miguel muttered lowly, his lips wet and raw.
You thought for a second before slowly shaking your head with a small breath.
“I always woke up before… before I could find out…” You answered Miguel.
Miguel frowned at that, looking at the marks on your neck before making direct eye contact with you. He sighed and shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“Well… do you wanna know what I’d do to you in my dreams?”
You nodded at him, genuinely curious as to what he dreamed about when you weren’t there with him. His forehead pressed against yours as his lips were centimeters away from your lips, his hands trailing from your waist down to your ass.
“In my dreams… I’d have you sit on my face and I’d make you cum over and over again until your legs give out..”
The image Miguel just gave you nearly made you collapse. You felt weak to your knees, a gentle whine escaping your lips. Miguel squeezed your thighs and kissed you once more, his hands moving up to the hem of your shirt. He parted from you to look at your face.
“Can I?” Miguel asked, wanting to make sure you were okay with this before he went any farther.
You looked at him for a few moments before making a decision, whispering out a small “Yes” to him. He took that as his green light and gently took your coat off first before moving to your shirt. He rolled the material up your body and over your head, helping you take your shirt off. Once you were topless in front of him, Miguel’s eyes scanned your chest. He muttered something quietly in Spanish before letting out a breathy sigh.
“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are?” He coos softly.
Your face burned up as you felt vulnerable in front of him, but when Miguel spoke, you slowly started to become more comfortable. A bashful expression appeared on your face as you just shook your head.
“Not entirely…”
Miguel hummed gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reaching towards your back to unclip your bra.
“Well… I think you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… every time I see you, it’s always hard for me to look away. Shit, baby, it’s even hard for me to look away in my dreams. I wouldn’t give it up for any other view… you’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart” Miguel spoke in between kisses to your face and lips while gently kneading your exposed breasts.
You couldn’t help but moan at his words mixed with his touch, kissing him back each time he placed a kiss onto your soft lips. Miguel couldn’t get enough of the sweet sounds you made, craving even more from you. His hands moved down to unbutton your pants, taking off every last piece of clothing on your body before leaving you completely naked in front of him. Miguel’s breath hitched as he looked at your body.
It was even better than he imagined in his dreams.
Miguel placed small kisses down your neck and collarbone until he made it to your breasts, gently kissing and sucking one while his hand toyed with the other. The sensation made you moan a little louder, biting down on your lip to contain yourself. Miguel seemed to take notice of this and removed his mouth from your nipple.
“You don’t have to be quiet, muñeca… it’s just us. I wanna hear your pretty moans.. god, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long…”
As soon as he said that, his hands gripped your hips and he stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Suddenly, he placed you on top of him as he laid down on the large table in the room. You could feel the tent in his pants right against your wet pussy, a low whine leaving your lips which caused Miguel to groan softly.
“Want you to sit on my face, querida… please…” Miguel begged softly, his hands still on your hips.
You let out a whimper at his request, reluctantly moving so your hips were directly above his face. You were hovering over him, not knowing what else to do. Miguel let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to wait any longer. He wanted to taste you… he had to taste you.
“You’re hovering, sweetheart. Lower your hips for me, ‘kay?” Miguel instructed, looking up at you from between your legs.
You looked down at him, slightly embarrassed from the position you were in. Regardless of how shy you became, you obeyed Miguel anyways, slowly lowering your hips a little.
“Is this g-“ Before you could even get your question out, Miguel’s mouth immediately attached to your clit.
You let out a loud gasp and moaned, Miguel’s tongue exploring your folds and licking up your juices. He let out a low growl that sent vibrations through your body, making you squirm and cry out.
“Joder, nena, sabes tan dulce… todo para mi~” Miguel moaned, his head moving up more to lick and suck on your clit again.
You whimpered as he sucked on your clit again, afraid that you would crush him if you moved your hips any lower. Miguel’s hands moved up to your ass and groped it tightly, his tongue poking your hole and sliding inside of you. The warm and wet feeling made your hands slam down on the table, trying not to drop your hips directly onto his face. Small pants left your mouth as his tongue fucked your hole and his nose brushed up against your sensitive clit, moaning as you kept your eyes shut tightly.
That’s when you felt Miguel’s hands grip your hips and his tongue slips out of your pussy, making you whine in response. You gasp as he pulls your hips down with such force, your eyes widening as you look down at him.
“Ay, Cariño, what did I tell you ‘bout the hovering? Stop hovering and sit on my face” Miguel scolded, spanking your ass as he goes back to licking and sucking your poor abused clit.
You cried out as you felt a new wave of pleasure form inside you, sobbing as he hit all of your spots with his mouth.
“Miguel~! Mig-“ You gasped, pulling his hair with one hand as the other stayed on the table for support.
But Miguel could care less if you suffocated him. Hell, he wanted you to. The sound of his name coming from your lips nearly made him cum in his pants right then and there. Every pretty noise that came out of your mouth was better than his dreams alone, not wanting you to stop. Miguel kissed and teased your clit more, savoring your taste as much as possible. His breath grew heavier and heavier as sweat trickled down his temples, burying his face in your pussy.
Miguel’s mouth left your clit with a small ‘pop’ as he re-entered his tongue inside your soaked hole, making you rut your hips against his face. The way his nose bumped your clit and his warm tongue stuffed inside you made your eyes roll back, your legs twitching already.
“God, don’t stop~ please don’t stop, Miggy~ feels s’good~” You begged pathetically, your shy demeanor now leaving your body.
Miguel moaned against you and spanked your ass hard once more, his fingers digging into your thighs. His own hips twitched against nothing as he listened to your pleads and moans, fucking you with his tongue relentlessly. With the way you begged so nicely for him to keep going, Miguel swore he could feel his precum seeping through his boxers and pants. How could he refuse you?
“Miguel-! I- I think I’m-“ You tried to warn him that you were close, your legs nearly giving out on you.
If it weren’t for Miguel’s large hands holding your hips up, you definitely would’ve collapsed on his face. But you were so desperate to cum, continuing to grind on his face as he licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He caught his breath and looked up at you for a moment, his eyes dark and full of arousal.
“Go ahead, princesa… cum for me” Miguel moaned, going back to sucking your clit.
With just those words alone, the coil inside your stomach broke. You cried out loudly as you came, chanting his name over and over again. Your legs shook and you nearly collapsed onto him, Miguel catching you just in time. He licked up every drop of your release, making sure to not let it go to waste. You whimpered as he continued to lick your sensitive pussy, becoming overstimulated from his tongue. Your hands pressed down onto the table to hold yourself up, catching your breath as you carefully crawled off of his face.
As you sat down on the table next to Miguel, he sat up straight and faced you, panting heavily. Your eyes widened as you saw his chin was soaked from your juices, a dark blush forming across your cheeks. Miguel noticed your face as he finally caught his breath, a small laugh leaving his lips.
“How do you feel?” Miguel asked, licking his lips and wiping his chin off with his coat sleeve.
A soft breath left your mouth as you looked at him, a sheepish smile forming on your face, “I feel… I feel like that was the best thing I’ve ever experienced..”
Miguel chuckled and leaned over to you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. You melted against him and returned the kiss, slowly pulling away to look at him.
“I’m glad I could make you feel like that… say, uh… our shift actually ended like… 10 minutes ago�� Miguel spoke as he checked his watch.
Your eyes widened as you looked around for your discarded clothes, Miguel quickly grabbing them before you could get off of the table.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got it. Just sit for a little bit, catch your breath” He mumbled, putting your clothes back on for you.
Your chest fluttered as he did so, smiling at him in a loving way. Miguel noticed this and chuckled as he helped you put your panties back on.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing… I was just wondering.. do you wanna stay the night at my place?” You offered, moving your hips a little as Miguel clothed you.
Miguel grinned widely at the offer, placing a peck to your forehead and nodding.
“Of course, I’d like that… I’ll buy dinner for us on the way there. My treat for this” Miguel hummed, putting your shirt on and placing soft kisses to your knuckles.
Your smile widened as he said that, pulling him in for a kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back, his forehead pressed against yours as you two pulled away. He helped you off of the table and the both of you made your way out of the building, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb across your skin.
“Oh, by the way… I heard everything that happened with your co-workers. I was listening the whole time” Miguel admitted, looking over at you.
Your head whipped over to him, a surprised expression on your face. “You were-??”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I actually got promoted as a manager a few weeks ago, so…”
Your eyes widened as a small gasp left your lips. “Wait, so that means-“
“That means you won’t be having to deal with them for much longer. I know those assholes have been messing with you since you got here… plus, everything they said about you is wrong. You’re the best worker this place has to offer and those dickheads have been here longer than you have” Miguel responded to you, placing a kiss to your temple.
A grin formed on your lips as joy filled your chest, squeezing Miguel’s hand.
“Thank you, Miguel… that means everything to me.”
“Of course. I gotta make sure my girl is okay.”
You let out a laugh as he said that, placing a soft kiss on his cheek as you walked with him down the street.
“So, is that your way of saying I’m your girlfriend now?” You chuckled.
“Only if you want to be” Miguel answered with a smirk.
You gently smacked his shoulder with your other hand and scoffed playfully, earning a laugh from him.
“Of course I do, Miguel.”
“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”
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straykeedz · 1 month
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐛𝐜
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𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; virgin!chan ; experienced!reader ; minsung if you squint (sorry nari my girl) ; mention of male masturbation ; dirty talk ; corruption kink kinda ; dry humping ; cumming in pants ; mention of a handjob ; nipple play ; mentions of porn and chan admitting he watches it ; clit play ; oral (m receiving) ; cum eating ; chan is self conscious and thinks too much ; confessions ; phone sex (video call sex technically) ; masturbation (both m and f) ; oral (f receiving) ; protected sex ; aftercare kinda ; they’re so beautifully in love and my heart hurts ; ♡
𝐰𝐜: 15k
inspired by this ask, it’s part of the same au.
🏷️: @bookobsessedfreak , @brojustfknkillm3 , @notevenheretbh1
𝐚/𝐧: this was supposed to be a 3-4k words drabble…… :) a huge thank you to @jilixthinker for beta reading this and for her feedback and support ♡
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 18+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢
ᥫ᭡
Chan is spiralling. 
His hands are fidgety, and just can’t stop bouncing his leg, which is pissing his friends, especially Minho, off. None of his other friends are really paying attention to him, though. They’re all minding their business - Jisung and Felix are playing some dumb videogame on the tv as per usual, and Seungmin is sulking on the couch because, well, he’s the one who lost first and now he’s gotta wait for his turn again.
And Chan… well, Chan is kind of panicking right now. 
“Dude, stop, really. It’s annoying,” Minho rolls his eyes, slapping Chan’s thigh to get his friend to stop bouncing his leg relentlessly. 
“‘M sorry, dude, ‘m just anxious I guess.” 
Minho stays awfully quiet, which kind of upsets Chan, who furrows his eyebrows confused, staring at his younger friend. 
“What?” Minho asks, eventually lifting his gaze from his phone and staring back at Chan. 
“You’re not gonna ask me why I’m anxious?” 
Minho shrugs, his gaze drops back on his phone screen. “Eh. You’re gonna tell me anyway, aren’t you?”
Chan tilts his head to the side, confused. Minho is a good friend, and Chan trusts him. Maybe talking about it with Minho will help Chan, who knows. The older feels suddenly much more nervous at the thought of voicing his insecurities out loud, but at the same time he knows he needs it. 
“I have a date tomorrow.”
Minho frowns. “With that Y/N girl, right?” Minho asks, he knows his friend has been seeing you for a couple of months now. Chan nods. “Okay, and? Is that why you’re nervous? You’ve seen her before.”
That’s the problem, actually, Chan thinks. 
“She, uh… she doesn’t know,” Chan mumbles, toying with the black ring on his pointer finger, elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor. 
“Doesn’t know what?” Minho hates that he practically has to force the words out of Chan’s mouth. 
“That I’m, uh, a… that I’m inexperienced,” Chan blurts out. 
“Ah, that you’re a virgin, you mean,” Minho paraphrases, his voice is incredibly loud and Chan cringes, because that word, virgin, makes him feel like a complete loser. Deep down, he knows he’s not a loser just because he still hasn’t gotten his dick wet at the venerable age of twenty-six, but at the same time he does feel a bit self-conscious about it. 
Seungmin’s head snaps in Chan’s direction, and Changbin’s does the same. Even Jisung and Felix stop focusing on the videogame for a good couple of seconds. 
“Yes, uh… that,” Chan clears his throat. “I haven’t told her yet.”
Minho’s eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth falls open as he lifts his head to look at Chan. “Oh. Why?”
“I don’t know! I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me, I guess,” he sighs, slumping on the couch, feeling absolutely hopeless. 
“Why would she think less of you?” Changbin butts in, significantly confused. 
“Because I’m twenty-six and I still haven’t had sex?” He asked, mentally adding a duh?, as if the answer was the most obvious ever. 
“But she likes you,” Minho comments, “I don’t think she’ll care about it, if she’s anything like you described her.”
And Chan knows Minho’s probably right, but can’t help but feel insecure about it nonetheless. He just doesn’t want to give you a series of disappointing sexual experiences, or embarrass himself in front of you if you’ll ever decide to sleep with him. Not that he’s expecting you to - he’s just thinking of possibilities and eventualities right now. 
He’s not even thinking anymore, he’s overthinking. 
“I know, I know. But the internet is full of girls disappointed inside the bedroom, I wouldn’t want her to experience the same thing with me.”
“You haven’t had sex, like, ever. It’s not like you’d disappoint her intentionally, Chan,” Changbin points out. 
“So you’re saying I would disappoint her.”
“No, Changbin is saying you shouldn’t stress over this. Nobody’s first time is earth-shattering or life-changing,” Minho rolls his eyes. 
“How do you know? You haven’t had sex either,” Chan tuts, crossing his arms over his chest, kind of offended. 
“Incorrect,” Minho argues, lifting his pointer finger matter-of-factly. “I haven’t had sex with a girl yet. I’ve had plenty of sex with boys.” 
“Boys? Plural?” Jisung’s head snaps in the older’s direction so fast he almost breaks his neck, quirking an eyebrow at Minho. “And what do you mean yet?”
“Fine,” Minho grumbles, “I’ve had plenty of sex with a boy.”
“You didn’t answer my question - what do you mean yet?” Jisung insists. 
“Jisung, please. We’re trying to help Chan here, not everything’s about you,” Minho sighs. “Anyways, where were we?”
Chan blinks, gaze snapping from Minho to Jisung and then back on Minho. Surprisingly enough, though, none of the other boys seems surprised. “I, uh… I’ll ignore your unexpected and casual coming out for now, and the whole… best-friends-who-are-apparently-fucking thing,” he clears his throat, “you were… reassuring me, I think. Nobody’s first time is perfect and blah, blah, blah.” 
“Ah, yeah. Don’t stress over it, dude. Just try not to cum as soon as you put it in,” Minho shrugs. “Oh, and don’t forget the condom. Be responsible, dude. You know how to put it on, rig-“
“Okay, okay! Enough!” Chan shouts, embarrassed, as he blushes of a deep shade of red until even his ears look like they’re on fire, waving his hands in front of Minho to get him to stop talking. 
ᥫ᭡
Chan feels like an idiot, and if his friends were here now they’d totally make fun of him. No, no, scratch that, they wouldn’t let him live this down ever again. 
For starters, he spent an indecent amount of time on his phone, online, looking for the best brands of condoms, describing in specific details how his dick looks so that the search bar at one point read “which condoms for 5” length 2,5” width penis” and yes - he literally measured it. He visited dozens of different websites ad clicked on countless of links, desperately looking for the best condoms he could find. Eventually, he bought two different boxes online, and cringed reaaaaally bad when the delivery guy smirked at him and gave him the thumbs up. 
And now he’s in his bed. The bedroom door is locked - he’s made sure of that, with his sweats pulled down his legs together with his underwear - free, hard cock resting peacefully on his abdomen. Chan feels incredibly stupid, holding two different kinds of condoms between his fingers, trying to figure out which one he should try on first. When he takes another glance at his dick, another question pops up in his head - should he shave? Usually, he just trims his pubic hair from time to time when he’s in the shower, but maybe you’d like him fully bare? Guys in porn usually shave their cocks, so maybe that’s what girls prefer - he truly has no idea, and he’s not gonna ask his friends for advice, it’s already embarrassing enough. Why is he even thinking about all this? He was just supposed to practice how to put on a stupid condom!
“Okay, okay, I can do it. It’s easy. It’s supposed to be easy, I mean, everybody does this, it can’t be that complicated. Well, not everyone, otherwise you wouldn’t have all these unplanned pregnancies, but -“ he cuts himself off, realizing he was rambling too much already. 
Chan is kinda ashamed to admit that yes, he even watched a tutorial to figure out how to do this properly, so he’s fully prepared and knows exactly what he’s supposed to do. He tears the wrapper open, careful not to tear the rubber, and then pulls it out, cursing under his breath when it slips from his fingers due to its slipperiness. He picks it up again, and places it on the tip of his dick, pinching the tip as he rolls it onto his length easily. It feels… weird. Not bad weird, just… weird, but at least it’s easy, just like that article online read, and he’s sure he’ll have no trouble in doing this if you’ll ever sleep together. 
Sometimes, Chan can’t help but wonder what it feels like - to have sex. Being so close, so intimate with someone, literally being inside of someone. When he thinks about it, it’s you the someone he imagines as he strokes his cock, mostly late at night, when his roommate Changbin’s asleep. He’d lie in his bed, legs spread, fully naked. 
Chan’s been jerking off a lot lately, two times per day at least. He’d grab his cock, squeezing it by the base, whimpering at the feeling of his balls kind of tightening. And then he’d start stroking himself again and again and again until his eyes roll in the back of his head and he cums with a choked sound, biting on his lower lip until he can almost taste blood. 
Then, he usually showers and changes his clothes, and feels kinda embarrassed about what he did, ignoring the fact that it’s completely normal to fantasize about someone. He still feels guilty nonetheless, completely unaware that you, in the privacy of your own bedroom, do the exact same every other night - pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. 
ᥫ᭡
The night of your date Bang Chan learns two things. The first is that ‘Netflix and chill’ doesn’t actually mean, you know, Netflix and chill. It means sex, apparently, and everyone knows except him. The second one is - he’s absolutely whipped for you already. 
He’d been nervous the whole day, trying on four or five different outfits and eventually asking Changbin for advice, and he’d sprayed on so much cologne he had to literally open the bedroom windows in order not to get intoxicated. He spent an indecent amount of time under the shower, washing his hair two or three times just in case - you’d once told him you loved the scent of his shampoo. 
When he saw you, the anxiety suddenly kind of… left his body. All the nervousness he’d been feeling suddenly vanished, and his entire body and brain was filled with excitement and happiness and all kinds of positive, good feelings. You greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and he never wanted to let go. 
And then, when he drove you back to your place, things got kind of… hot, and he wasn’t expecting it at all because he thought that the expression you used, Netflix and Chill, actually meant “watching a good movie and cuddle on the couch” - but it didn’t. It didn’t, because as soon as you both lay on the couch, you started making out like two horny teenagers unable to keep their hands for themselves. 
Which led to… now. 
His lips are on yours, have been for the past ten minutes. The movie’s still playing, but neither of you are paying any attention. You’re both red in the face, your lips are swollen and wet and tingling, but neither of you has ever felt this good. You like Chan. You like him very much, and you want to take things to the next level - maybe not all the way, not tonight at least. 
You’re still kissing Chan, tiny little hmphs leaving his mouth, when you wrap your hand around his wrist and bring his hand on your thigh. And then you move it up, up, up, until… Chan’s breath hitches as his thumb brushes your clothed groin. You take the lead, unbuttoning your jeans, and then, wrapping your hand around his wrist once more, you bring his hand to the front of your panties, and he freezes. He literally stops moving, he stops kissing you and you can clearly hear the sound of his heartbeat pumping loud in his chest. 
“Do you… want to?” You pull back to whisper on his lips. Chan’s arms and hands start to tremble. He blinks rapidly, and the next thing he does, stupidly, is shaking his head as a no. Could he be more stupid? “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry,” you mumble, letting go of his hand, finding yourself pretty stupid all of a sudden.
“No! No, I… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Chan is quick to say, placing his hand on your thigh when you try to pull away after unbuttoning your jeans. “It’s just… there’s something I have to tell you.” 
You’re expecting the worst - maybe he’s tired of you and wants to break up. 
“Uh-oh,” you crack a nervous smile, fidgeting with your fingernails and your cuticles as you wait for him to speak. 
“No, no, it’s nothing bad, I promise. Well, it depends on you, actually… if you think it’s bad, then…” he rambles, toying with the bracelet wrapped around his wrist as he speaks. 
“Chan, relax. Just tell me.” He mumbles something so quietly you have no idea what he just said. “What?”
“I’ve… never done this before,” he blushes until the redness reaches the tip of his ears as he reveals the big secret he’s been keeping for weeks, “I’ve never done anything… sexual, actually.”
You’re beyond shocked because, well - he’s sexy. Girls probably throw themselves at him, how is it possible that he’s never fingered a girl before? It kind of turns you on even more, though. He’s so hot and so caring and such a gentleman and he’s… a virgin. And you’re dating him. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? You feel kind of a perv right now. 
While you’re getting lost in your train of thought, Chan is panicking because, well, you haven’t really said anything since he confessed his secret to you. “I’m sorry, I- I probably shouldn’t have said anything, it was stupid-“
“No!” You exclaim, interrupting him. “No, Chan, it’s okay. I promise, you just… surprised me. It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with it, of course. I’m sorry if I pressured you into anything.” 
“You didn’t,” Chan reassures you, caressing your thigh with his thumb. “You didn’t, I promise. I was just caught off guard, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen tonight.”
You nod. “I know, I know, it was sudden. It’s just… it may sound weird, but I really like your outfit. You’re, like, super hot and I got a little carried away I guess.”
Chan is flustered, and he scratches the back of his neck as he lowers his gaze shyly. “Uh… thank you. You’re really beautiful, too, you know? I was left… speechless when I saw you tonight. You’re stunning,” he bites his lip, looking at you, and then his face drops. “I-I mean, not only tonight. You’re always stunning, I just mea-“ 
You cut him off by placing your lips on his in a tender kiss, and he relaxes under your touch. “You’re cute, you know that?” You smile, kissing him some more. “Are you okay with us kissing?”
“I’m more than okay with kissing you. It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready for the whole thing yet, but we can… do other stuff if you want.” 
“Are you sure?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he nods. “Other stuff like…?”
He’s impossibly red in the face by now. “Ah, like… maybe we could, uh, touch each other? O-Over the clothes.”
You smile at him. “I know I already told you, but… you’re so cute. C’mere.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to your body, kissing his lips again and again. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself laying on your back, sprawled on your couch, with Chan’s body between your legs - you both gasp at the feeling of his erection pressed on your body. 
“Can I… can I kiss your neck?” Chan politely asks, and you can’t help but bite your lip, nodding at him. He latches his lips on your neck with a confidence he never showed before, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your skin. 
You wrap your fingers around his wrist once more, and catch him by surprise when you place the palm of his hand on your boob, over the fabric of your t-shirt. Chan whimpers, involuntarily jerking his hips, forcing his hard-on on your clit. Throwing your head back in pleasure, you beg him to do it again. He does it again, and his own eyes flutter shut because it feels so damn good, even though his pants are definitely too tight for this. 
“You feel so good, oh my God,” you mumble, running your fingers up and down his spine, arching your back and rolling your hips to meet his once again and Chan has to stop you. Like, seriously, he has to stop you otherwise he’d cum in his pants and fucking embarrass himself. 
He’s about to tell you when you unexpectedly move your hand to the front of his jeans, sliding it right in the middle of your bodies, and you cup him and squeeze him - and Chan fucking cums. He cums in his pants.
“Oh my- fuck. Fuck, fuck, it’s not happening,” he mumbles, hiding his face in your neck in pure shame. “It’s not happening, it’s not happening,” he repeats again and again and you’re confused. 
“Chan, what-“ and then you feel it - a warm feeling on your hand, his cock starting to soften. “Oh.” Chan wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “It’s okay, Chan. It’s fine, really.” 
“No, it’s not. It’s not. Fuck, I’m so fucking embarrassed,” he mumbles, getting up from the couch, looking down in horror just to find a large, wet patch on his blue jeans. He never wears blue jeans, for fuck’s sake - he always wears black skinny jeans, and the one time he decides to wear blue jeans he fucking cums in his pants after you’ve touched him for literally two seconds. “Oh my God.” He covers the front of his pants with his hand, mortified. “I… I have to leave. I’m so sorry.”
Chan leaves in a rush, excusing himself a million times even though you told him it’s completely fine, that you’re not weirded out by it or anything. He leaves even if you begged him not to, face red and pouting. He leaves, but the thought haunts him - he keeps relieving the scene in his head throughout the whole drive back home. He just wants to shower, go to bed and fucking forget what happened back at your place. There’s no way you’ll ever want to see him again after tonight, he’s sure of it. 
When he opens the door to his place, he’s hoping Changbin’s not home. But of course he is - lying on the couch as he watches some stupid reality show. His friend snaps his head in Chan’s direction with a smirk on his face. 
“How did the date go? Got your dick wet?” Changbin suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. Chan is still as red as a pepper in the face, and then Changbin sees it - it being the huge stain on his friend’s pants. “Oh. You did.”
ᥫ᭡
Chan is surprised you don’t think he’s a real loser, and that you actually want to see him again. 
You don’t even mention the accident, and Chan is really grateful for that, even though he still cringes when he thinks about it. However, when he told Changbin and Minho what had happened at your place, instead of making fun of him they told him it’s a completely normal and natural reaction. Up to that moment, Chan had been the only person to ever touch his cock, so it’s completely normal to feel extra stimulated when another person touches you, or something like that. He just remembers taking a huge sigh out of relief after that talk. 
You want to see Chan again and again and again. And you do. 
You go on fun dates - trying out new coffee shops and bakeries, or having nice and relaxing picnics and watch the sunset as Chan puts his arm around your shoulders, and you end up making out shamelessly in the backseats of his car in the empty parking lot of the movie theater instead of going in and actually watching the movie you’d planned to see that night, and you even dry hump again there, and this time you both cum in your pants. You cuddle, too, so much - Chan really loves physical affection and is really glad you do too, because he really loves wrapping his arms around you, or kissing your cheeks, or hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It’s like you were made for each other, Chan can’t help but think.
Chan is happy, unbelievably so. 
For the first time in his life he’s found a person, you, who understands him and makes him feel important and appreciated. He’s been told he’s hot by a relatively high number of girls before, but they all seemed to be after his body and nothing else, and that’s why he never took things further with any of them. Chan craves something more, he craves a connection. He craves true feelings and somebody who’ll listen to him rambling at the end of a bad day, somebody who loves him for who he is and doesn’t care about how he looks, somebody he can be himself with. 
He found that someone in you, he’s sure of that. 
You’ve been seeing each other for nearly three months now, but you’ve been nothing but perfect to him. Like that he told you he was having the worst day and was feeling so frustrated, and what you did was inviting him over to your place, where you greeted him with a basket of freshly baked pancakes with strawberries and blueberries as well as maple syrup. Then, you’d cuddled him the whole time he stayed at your place, lay on the couch under a warm blanket and put on his favorite movie to try to cheer him up. He’s really glad he’s found someone like you.
Chan has never had such deep feelings for someone before. He’s never even had a serious relationship before - you’re the first. 
How beautiful is it, falling in love with the right person? Sometimes, Chan really can’t believe his luck. He’d met you casually, none of it was planned, and he’s fully convinced that’s the beauty of it - the spontaneity is what makes everything a hundred times better. Chan met you on a rainy day and, ironically enough, as soon as his eyes met yours it stopped raining. 
He thinks it’s a casualty, you think it was fate. 
After wasting the best years of your life begging for the love of a person who clearly wasn’t right for you and who made you feel completely worthless, you believe the gods above sent you Chan as an apology for all the shit you went through in your life. Sometimes, you think you truly don’t deserve him and his kind heart, you don’t think you’re enough for him. Even though you never explicitly told him, at one point Chan could sense there was something up with you, and what really surprised you was his maturity, because he actually wanted to talk it through with you. He cuddled you and suggested the two of you watched a movie so that he could cuddle you, and he spent the whole time placing soft kisses on the top of your head and with his arm wrapped around your waist - until he fell asleep, that is.
That was the first time he slept at your place. Neither of you had planned it, it just happened - you had fallen asleep on the couch, snuggled up to each other, and when you woke up it was already nearly two a.m. and definitely too late for Chan to drive back home. That was also the time when you gave him his first handjob - well, the first handjob given to him by somebody who wasn’t his own hand. And even though you fell asleep right after cleaning him up, curled up to his side and hugging him from behind, Chan couldn’t sleep. In fact, he spent the whole night lying wide awake and staring at the ceiling, unable to stop thinking about what had happened mere minutes earlier. 
Yes, because that night something else had happened - you’d told Chan you might love him, and he’d told you the same. It was in the heat of the moment, words spoken when you were touching him and neither of you was thinking straight, but you’re sure he meant it - you surely did. How could you not love Chan? He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more, your sunshine in your darkest days and the most important person in your life. 
“Pretty?” Chan’s voice brings you back to reality. You blink a few times, turning to look at him. The room in the movie theater is almost full, but thankfully no one’s sitting next to you or Chan. “Do you not like the movie?” 
“No, no, it’s not that. Was distracted.”
“What’s distracting you, pretty?” He whispers, caressing your knuckles to soothe you. “Is there something wrong? Did something happen at work?”
You shake your head as a no, and then you smile at him. “Was just thinking about you.” Thankfully, the room is dark, otherwise there’s no way he wouldn’t notice the blush on your cheeks. “How much I’m thankful to have you in my life.”
“Ah, pretty,” he squeaks, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, embarrassed. He, too, is red in the face. “You caught me off guard, heh. I’m thankful, too, baby. You don’t know how much,” he kisses your shoulder, and squeezes your thigh. He’s unusually touchy these days - not that you mind it, of course.
That night, you don’t end up making out in the backseats of Chan’s car, surely because the parking lot isn’t empty at all, but mostly because Chan suggests going to your place after the movies, and by the way he keeps squeezing your thighs throughout the whole car ride, you kind of have the feeling you won’t be just making out tonight.
ᥫ᭡
Chan pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours. 
“I kinda… want to, uh, you know, return the favor,” he bites his lip nervously, blushing a little. 
“Favor?” You quirk an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face. 
Of course you know what he’s talking about. He’s talking about the other night, when he slept over for the first time and you gave him a handjob, taking things a step forward in your relationship, and to be honest - it was all you could think about for days. You even touched yourself in the shower a couple of times thinking of how his chubby cock felt in your hand as you stroked him. 
“You know what I’m talking about,” Chan mumbles embarrassed, gaze dropping to where his hand is resting on your thigh. 
“Yeah, I know,” you tease him, “but I still want to hear you say it.”
He’s red in the face. 
“You’re cruel,” he whines. 
You shrug, “I just love seeing you squirm. So, what is it that you want to do to me?” You run your fingers up his arms, wrapping them around his biceps and biting your lip. He feels so big. 
“I wanna… I wanna make you cum,” he mumbles, still not looking at you. In fact, he’s looking at where his fingers are squeezing your thigh. “With my fingers.”
“That can be arranged,” you chuckle, placing two fingers under his chin and lifting his head to meet his eyes. Then, you kiss him on the lips and stand up, and he’s confused. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, hm?” 
Chan nods. His legs are shaky and feel kind of jelly as he follows you in your room and then on your bed, lying down next to you - his heart is beating incredibly fast in his chest. He’s never done anything like that, of course, and everything he knows about fingering comes either from porn or the online articles he’s read, and he’s scared he’s gonna mess up and he won’t be able to pleasure you the way he wants to. He knows he shouldn’t be so hard on himself, but he can’t really help it. He wants to make you feel good the same way you do him. 
Too lost in his own train of thought, he’s brought back to Earth when you take off your t-shirt in front of him - you’re wearing a bra, your favorite one actually, but Chan’s brain is already short-circuiting. His jaw drops, and he stares at your barely covered breasts like an animal in heat.
“You can touch, you know?” You tease him, grabbing him by the wrist, intertwining your fingers first and then guiding his hand to your chest until he cups one of your tits with his large palm. “You can do anything you want, Channie.”
He looks at you like a lost puppy, still pretty nervous about the whole thing, even though there’s a new feeling in his chest, a new desire that’s eating him alive. “You like it when… you know, I touch you here?” He squeezes your soft flesh lightly, careful not to be too rough because he knows it can be painful. 
You nod, nuzzling his cheek and kissing his jawline. “Yeah, I really like it. You can take the bra off, if you want to.”
Chan is about to see his very first pair of boobs, and maybe that’s why his hands are shaking like a leaf as he slides the straps of your bra down your arms. You caress his arm as he gently touches your skin, placing soft kisses on his temple to get him to relax, and once he’s done sliding both straps down your limbs, your reach behind your spine to unhook your bra, figuring it’d be much easier this way. When it comes off, Chan lets out a whimper as he bites on his lip, and then his eyes are back on yours. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he kisses your lips as his hand finds its way back on your chest, now touching you without the useless piece of fabric separating your bodies. 
“You’re just saying that because you just saw your first pair of boobs,” you chuckle. 
He shakes his head, “I’m saying that because it’s true. Oh, and by the way… I’m hoping it’ll be the only pair I’ll ever see in my life.” 
His words make your heart thump inside your chest, and you find yourself blushing at the implication - cheeks burning red, so you hide your face in his neck. “You can’t say things like that,” your voice comes out muffled by his t-shirt. 
“Why not? It’s true.” 
He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple, but he surely is surprised when he hears you whimper and feels you tugging at his t-shirt. 
“D-Do that again,” you bite on his shoulder when he brushes your nipple once more. And once more. Chan finds out he really loves hearing you let out soft, pretty sounds for him - because of him. “Please… use your mouth, please,” you beg, clenching your thighs to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling between your legs. You can’t wait for him to finally touch you there. 
“My mouth?” He repeats, and you nod. 
“Just… your lips and tongue. Please,” your breathing starts to become more irregular. 
You let go of Chan’s shirt only to lie down with your back flat on the mattress, boobs on full display for Chan to admire and worship, even though he’s pretty clueless about what he’s supposed to do next, so you decide to guide him. He positions himself between your thighs.
“Start by kissing my neck,” you instruct, “and then move down. Just do whatever you want, really.” 
Chan latches his lips on your neck and you moan. Now it’s his turn to clench his thighs, squeezing his neglected cock. He kisses your collarbone hungrily, occasionally scraping it with his teeth clumsily, not realizing you love it. And when he finally starts kissing the soft skin of your boobs, the both of you let out a tiny gasp. 
“Like this?” He mutters against your flesh, not even thinking about pulling away from you.
You nod, burying your fingers in his hair while you grip the bedsheets with your other hand. “Yeah,” you sigh, “now l-lick. My nipple. Lick me there.”
The first swipe of Chan’s tongue on your sensitive nipple has you arching your back in desperate need for more. And he gives you exactly what you want, wrapping his hot lips around your hardened bud, still continuing to swirl his tongue around it. With a confidence he didn’t know he had within himself, he starts playing with the other one using his fingers, the same way he did before, just brushing it with his thumb - when he pinches it, you let out a tiny squeak, and he lifts his gaze to check if you’re alright. 
“Are you,” you mutter between deep breaths, “are you sure this is your first time doing this?” You chuckle, tugging at his hair softly.  
He blushes a little, then nods with his nipple still in his mouth, and it’s the hottest sight ever. But you need more. 
You wrap your fingers around Chan’s wrist, and then you start sliding his hand down your body, past your navel, until his fingers brushes the hem of your yoga pants. That’s when Chan’s breath hitches, and he looks at you like a kicked puppy, slightly panicking inside because he has no clue what to do. Well, technically he knows what he’s supposed to do, but practically… He adjusts himself on the mattress, removing his body from between your legs, and you whine at the loss of contact when he lets go of your nipple. 
“You still want to do this?” You ask him, and he nods. “Relax,” you tell him, noticing he’s been holding his breath, “you’ll do good. We’re taking this slow, remember? It’s not like I’m expecting you to be a pro at it.” 
He nods once again, but looks more convinced and confident this time. “I’m sure. I want to do this.”
You smile at him, kissing the tip of his nose, “you’re so cute.”
Hooking your fingers in each side of your yoga pants, you slide them past the curve of your ass and down your legs, taking them off for good and letting them fall on the floor without a care in the world. Chan bites his lip at the sight of your barely covered pussy, and the lacy material is kind of see-through, so he can take a glimpse of it. He’s still fully clothed beside you, while you have only your panties on. Before taking things further, he takes his t-shirt off in record time, revealing his naked torso to your eyes. 
“You look so handsome…” you whisper, tracing the outline of his abs with the tip of your fingers, hard under your touch. “You’re gonna let me ride your abs one day, yeah?”  You kiss him right on his pecs, unable to contain your eagerness. 
“Ride them?” He asks, pretty confused because how can someone ride abs? Is it actually a thing?
“Yeah, just let me sit on you and rub my clit on your abs until I make myself cum.”
Chan had never heard of such a thing before you explained it to him, and now he can’t physically wait to try it. He wants you to use his body in every possible way - you wouldn’t even have to ask, whatever you want to do to him, you can do it. He’s yours. 
“Oh. Of course you can,” his fingers brush your panties, and suddenly you’re remembered of what you were about to do before you let your hormones take over. 
“You can take them off,” you mumble on his skin, kissing him one last time on his collarbone, and he nods, beginning to slowly slide the lace down your legs, finally revealing your nakedness to his eyes. 
Chan has never seen a naked woman before, if porn doesn’t count, and maybe that’s why he literally can’t tear his eyes off you, off your bare pussy, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss you everywhere, there, for hours, days even. He wants to do it slowly at first, peppering your skin with soft kisses, and they he’d want to devour you, he wants to kiss and lick and bite you until his lips physically hurt, until you both can’t take it anymore. 
Your panties are soon discarded on the floor after what feels like an eternity, but Chan’s still focused on looking at you. He looks at you as if you were a work of art, the most beautiful painting in a museum, as if you were the most perfect thing in the world and he’d ruin you with his goofy and inexperienced touch. His eyes move from your pussy to your boobs, and ultimately on your face. You’re naked in his arms. You’re letting him see the most intimate and private parts of you and he’s so flattered and honored and he just wants to kiss you and thank you for trusting him, even though he is the virgin. He doesn’t even care that other men saw you like this, he finds it completely irrelevant, because he knows that from now on it’s him and only him that’ll get to see you, touch you, kiss you and have you. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he nuzzles your cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he lives the moment, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his. “Looks so pretty,” he mumbles, still looking at your pussy. 
You take his hand, that’s resting undisturbed on your thigh, and bring it closer to your most delicate part. Even though it’s you who’s being touched right now, it’s Chan who shivers once his fingers brush your pussy. A small huff escapes his nose. You feel foreign under his touch, and so fragile. Chan is scared he’ll mess up. 
“I’ll probably mess up,” he mumbles, finding the courage to open his eyes and look at you - you don’t seem to be bothered in the slightest. In fact, your own cheeks are tinted of a bright pink shade, and your own fingers are slightly shaking, Chan can feel it. 
“It’s okay,” you kiss him on the cheek. “You’ll learn. I’m not expecting you to be perfect on your first try, just so you know that. We’ve got a lifetime together to practice,” you chuckle, and he does, too, although he’s a bit more nervous than you. 
“Okay. Just… teach me,” his gaze moves to where he’s touching you, his fingers still on your mound. 
You move his hand slightly, and gasp when Chan brushes your clit. It’s dry, and not completely satisfying, but the friction still makes you throb, however slightly. “This is the clit. Do you watch porn?” 
Chan wishes he could physically stuck his head in the sand because of how much he’s embarrassed to admit this, even though it’s completely normal. “Y-Yeah, I… I watch it, some times.” 
“You know it’s okay to watch porn, right?” You chuckle, “nobody’s judging you for that.”
“I know, I know,” he mumbles, still quite embarrassed. “It’s just… I don’t do it regularly. Only some times. I prefer to use my imagination when I’m… you know.”
“When you’re touching yourself?” He nods, red in the face. “You’re so cute. One day you’ll tell me what you think of, yeah? For now, just focus on me.”
Chan feels kind of weird at the thought of sharing his dirty thoughts with you, mostly because, well, you’re in all of them, but you seem to be particularly interested in knowing, so he just nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell you.” 
You kiss his cheek once again. “This is the clit,” you repeat. “I really like to be touched here, but not like this. It’s too dry and kind of painful.”
“And how do you like to be touched?” He asks as if he were in class and taking notes. 
“It depends. I usually squeeze some lube on my fingers and it helps,” and then you move his hands only slightly farther. Chan still can’t believe how soft you feel. “But you made me really wet, so this’ll work, too,” you bite your lip. Chan’s now touching your entrance, fingers kind of dipping into your wetness. It feels kind of sticky on his skin, and there’s so much of it already even though he barely touched you. 
“I made you this wet?” He can’t help but ask, incredulous. 
“Yeah. You know, all the kissing and the dirty talk, you touching my boobs…” you trail off. 
Gripping Chan’s wrist tight, you allow him to move his hands up and down your pussy a couple of time, making sure to coat his fingers in your arousal as much as possible, and once they’re significantly wet, you guide him back on your clit. 
“You can do anything, really. Move them how you want, it doesn’t really make a difference for me. Just, whatever you do, be delicate.”
Chan looks completely lost, unsure what he’s supposed to do even though you literally just told him. Instinctively, what he does is move his fingers drawing a kind of circle on you clit - he saw it in a video once, and the girl had seemed to like it very much. 
“Like this?” He asks. 
You nod. “Yeah, it feels nice,” you encourage him. Of course his movements are not perfect, but it’s still pleasant. “You can go a bit faster.” 
When he does, his fingers kind of slip from your clit, and you reposition his hand to make sure he’s rubbing the right spot. “Oops, sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed, blushing a little, even though he’s got nothing to be sorry for. 
“It’s okay. You’re doing good,” you encourage him, kissing his shoulder while trying to muffle the sounds that leave your mouth. 
He keeps touching you exactly like you taught him to, rubbing you delicately, eyes on his fingers and, consequently, on your pussy as he remains quiet only to listen to the sweet sounds you’re making. When his fingers start to feel a little bit dry, he spontaneously dips them back in the pool of arousal at your entrance, and then he resumes the movements on your clit. Once he’s gained enough confidence, the circular movements slowly turn into tight, imaginary eights on your clit, and he’s not prepared for the moan you let out, your fingers gripping his arm tight.
“You’re doing so good, Chan,” you huff, pressing your lips on his skin, holding onto him as you feel the knot in your stomach begin to form. “Keep going.” 
Chan believes he could easily get addicted to the small, squeaky sound you make when you’re getting close to your release, and he still can’t believe he’s the cause you’re feeling that good. It’s a confidence booster he didn’t know he needed until now. He kisses the top of your head as he feels your legs starting to shake. He still can’t believe he’s about to make you orgasm despite this being the first time he lays his fingers on a woman. 
“I’m close, Channie. Don’t stop,” you stick your fingernails into his skin, and he muffles a whimper. 
His wrist is starting to hurt, but he has no intention to stop - he keeps rubbing your sensitive bud like he has no other purpose in life, and in a matter of seconds, he has you cumming under his touch, although he doesn’t realize it at first because you don’t warn him, even though you do let out a high-pitched moan that has him shivering. He only realizes you’ve come when you clench your thighs, practically blocking his movements because you’re starting to feel overstimulated. 
“’S too much,” you whine, hiding your face in his neck, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and moving his hand away from your pussy. He’s confused, so you explicitly tell him, “I came. ‘M too sensitive now,” and don’t miss the way he raises his eyebrows. 
He made you cum. He was able to pleasure you to the point you orgasmed because of him. When he looks down, not only your pussy is completely wet, but there’s also a small, wet patch on your bedsheets - the proof of what he did to you, and he can’t help but feel proud of himself. 
“Was it okay?” He asks you, lying down next to you as you try to catch your breath, brain still feeling kind of fuzzy. 
You nod, “it was great. You learn pretty fast,” you chuckle and Chan blushes. “But now I kind of want to do something to you, you know? As a thank you for a mind-blowing orgasm?” You squeeze his thigh. 
Chan looks taken aback. “You, uh… you don’t have to do anything, really.” 
“So you don’t want me to suck you off?” 
Chan’s cock positively throbs in his pants. The thought of you wrapping your lips around him drives him crazy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined it before, especially when it’s late at night and his stupid hard cock won’t soften.
“I-I… I don’t want you to think I pleasured you just to get something in return.” 
“Chan, I want to do it,” you mumble, kissing his lips, “‘m not asking just because I feel pressured or I feel like I have to. I really want to suck your cock,” your hand moves farther, now almost palming his cock. 
Chan nods. “Okay. I, uh… I really want it, too, obviously. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t pressuring you into it.”
“You’re not,” you smile at him, and then Chan feels you slowly unbuttoning his jeans, and then the zipper is next. 
Even though you already gave him a handjob and licked him cum off his stomach, he still feels kind of self-conscious about showing his naked body to anyone else who isn’t his bathroom mirror. Moreover, he knows his cock is not the biggest out there, and he can’t help but feel a little bit anxious because what if you think he’s not enough? What if your exes were bigger? He’s above average, maybe only slightly bigger, but what if it’s still not enough? He doesn’t say anything, though, and lets you undress him slowly, as if you were unwrapping a present, slowly stripping him of his skinny jeans. 
You’re naked in front of him, positioned between his legs and ready to touch him, to take him into your mouth, and he’s slowly starting to panic. Chan takes a deep breath when you hook your fingers in the hem of his boxers and you feel him tense up, shutting his eyes closed. He’s spiralling, you can see it, and you don’t want it this way, so you remove your fingers from his underwear. He opens his eyes to look at you, confused, nervous, scared you might just get up and leave, fed up with his insecurities eating him alive. Instead, what you do is look him in the eye as you palm his erection over his boxers, and then you press your mouth on it. Chan has to muffle a moan in the back of his hand, keeping his eyes on you. And then he feels your hot tongue on him, over the thin fabric of his boxers, and his cock throbs. 
“You feel so good already,” you mumble, continuing to lick him over his boxers until your tongue is pressed on his balls, and that’s when he involuntarily jerks his hips. It feels so good, better than anything he’s ever felt before. “Can’t wait to taste you,” your voice comes out muffled by the fabric of his boxers. You want him to feel confident, to stop panicking and finally realize that you find him unbelievably hot. 
Begging he does when you wrap your mouth around his balls as your fingers tease his sensitive tip. “Please,” he whines, finding it already hard to hold back. He’s not gonna last at all. It’s gonna be even worse than the dry humping thing, he’s gonna blow unbelievably fast. “Feels so good. Feels amazing, oh,” he whines, gripping the bedsheets tight. 
“You do realize you’ve got nothing to be shy for, yeah? You drive me crazy, Chan,” you place a few more kisses on his length, “I just want to make you feel good. Show you how much you turn me on. Will you let me?” 
Chan whines, a small “yeah” leaving his mouth, and he suddenly feels much more confident than before. You always manage to make him feel so loved, so appreciated, and he’s forever grateful that he’s experiences all of his firsts with someone like you - with you. It wouldn’t make sense with anyone else, it wouldn’t feel this way - so right. 
He helps you slide his boxers down his length, which finally springs free and hits his stomach with a slap, and then his underwear soon reaches yours on the floor. Maybe Chan’s cock isn’t the longest out there, it most definitely isn’t, but it’s definitely the prettiest you’ve seen. It’s kind of thick and feels heavy overall, with a thick vein on the underside and full, heavy balls yearning to be touched again. You want to give this boy all the head in the world. 
“Your cock is so pretty,” you mumble, leaving a couple of kisses on his groin, where his cock is lying undisturbed. Chan can’t wait for you to touch him, for you to do anything you want to him. “Can’t wait to taste you again, Channie.”
Chan doesn’t even have the time to say anything to you, because as soon as he tries to speak he feels your hot, wet tongue on his length and he has to bite on his lip to muffle an obscene moan. It’s not physically possible for a blowjob to feel this good, and you haven’t even taken him in your mouth yet. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, and he throbs in your palm, heavy and eager. When you wet his sensitive tip with a gob of your spit, it catches him completely off guard, and a shiver runs down his spine, but it’s nothing compared to the way his legs tremble when you run your tongue along the underside of his cock. 
“Oh, my-“ 
You smirk, looking at him as you engulf his cockhead in your mouth, enjoying the way he’s squirming, fisting the sheets and holding on to them for dear life. He tastes kind of salty, but you don’t really mind, in fact it’s kind of pleasant. When you try to take more of him into your mouth, he can’t help but grunt, his balls tightening. You start moving up and down his length, taking a bit more of him in your mouth with each bob of your head, and Chan can’t take his eyes off you - there’s saliva dripping from your mouth and all over his cock, coating his entire length and his balls, and you’re making the prettiest sounds as you take him into your mouth until he’s almost fully buried inside of it. 
“‘M not gonna last very long, gotta be honest,” he chuckles, stomach tightening as you swallow around his length. His whole body shakes.
You simply squeeze his thigh to let him know it’s perfectly okay, that you don’t really care when he cums - what matters the most is that he enjoys what’s happening and that he’s feeling good. When his tip hits the back of your throat he hisses, fisting the sheets even tighter until his knuckles turn white, so the next thing you do is stretching out your arm to intertwine your fingers with his, and then you place his hand on your head, burying it in your hair. Chan feels kind of bad about pulling it, afraid to hurt you or to cause you any discomfort, but when he eventually pulls it and you moan out of pleasure he can’t help but raise hie eyebrows in surprise. So he does it again, closing his eyes and relaxing under your touch. 
“Your mouth feels so good, what the fuck,” he whimpers, clenching his thighs in a desperate attempt of putting off his orgasm. Now that he knows how having your lips wrapped around him feels like, he’s not sure he’ll be able to live without it. 
Just when Chan thought it couldn’t get even better, it does. His whole body shakes when you take all of him into your mouth and swallow around his length again. Then one more time, as your hand comes to cup his balls, caressing them delicately, and before he can’t warn you or pull you off his dick, he’s cumming, shooting his load in your mouth. 
“Fuck. ‘M sorry, ‘m cumming, oh my God.” He rambles, not even knowing what he’s saying because it just feels so good and his brain feels fuzzy and he’s still trembling and cumming in your mouth. 
But you don’t pull away - instead, you swallow his release with a hum. It’s salty, but with a bitter aftertaste that’s not necessarily bad. When you pull off his cock and look at him, Chan looks as if his soul had left his body, lying on the sheets completely spent, his cock softening where it’s resting against his abdomen. 
“I’m so sorry,” he pouts.
“It’s okay,” you giggle, licking you lips. “I liked it. You taste nice, just like I remembered.”
“C’mere,” he mumbles, opening his arms at you. You lie down next to him, resting your head on his chest. “No, no, let me kiss you. Wan’ kiss.” 
You smile as you lift your head to lean in and place your lips on his. He can taste himself on you, and it’s not as disgusting as he thought it would be. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he nuzzles your cheek when he pulls away. “You’re amazing, you know that?” 
“You’re just saying that because you just had an orgasm and your brain feels kind of as if it were floating. Wait until post-nut clarity hits you,” you tease him, poking his dimple with the tip of your pointer finger. 
“No, I’m saying it because I really think you’re amazing and I love you.” 
That’s when time stops, and nothing else in the world seems to exist apart from you and Chan in your messed up bed, covered in sweat and body fluids, with messy hair and out of breath. Nothing else exists and nothing else matters because Chan just told you he loves you. You don’t even realize your eyes welled up with tears after his spontaneous confession. Yes, you technically told each other you might love each other, but this is entirely different. This marks the start of something new. 
You sniffle, and hide your face in Chan’s neck - you don’t want him to look at you when your eyes are all red and puffy. “I love you,” you mumble quietly, but Chan hears you loud and clear, and he holds you close to his chest. 
“Why are you crying?” Chan asks, kissing the top of your head. 
“Because you… you told me you love me and now I’m all sensitive because I love you too and you make me so happy.”
He chuckles, thinking you’re the cutest in the whole world and that he’s so lucky to have found you. He stretches his arm to grab the sheets to cover your entangles bodies. You fall asleep like that, lulled by each other’s heartbeats, surrounded by each other’s warmth. And when you wake up the next morning, you go again - he pleasures you with his mouth this time, and then the two of you end up dry humping once again, this time without clothes separating your bodies until Chan spills onto your stomach and mentally notes to bring a condom with him the next time the two of you’ll have yours or his place for yourselves, because there’s no way he’ll be able to resist you. 
He’s ready. 
ᥫ᭡
Chan is starting to believe his boss really hates his guts, because he decided to send him off a work trip to Japan for a whole week, which means he won’t be able to see you for a week, which means your plans of touching, kissing, feeling each other will be delayed. It shouldn’t really be an issue, since he’s being a virgin his whole life, but Chan was really looking forward to spending some time alone with you this weekend. 
Three days left. Three more days and he’ll be able to kiss and hug you again and so much more.
Chan changes into his pajamas and slips under the soft covers, and just like every night since he left, he unlocks his phone and video calls you like a sort of nighttime routine he wishes will continue even after he’s returned from his work trip. It’s cute, watching you all snuggled up under the covers and fall asleep together like that. Only this time, when you pick up the phone, you’re not snuggled up under the covers at all. In fact, you’re wearing your bathrobe, one that’s kind of revealing. Chan’s eyes widen and he looks at you shocked, looking already kind of flustered. 
“Uh, hello to you too?” He chuckles, looking at you through the camera, and you greet him with a big smile on your face. 
“Hi!” You chirp, and of course you do realize he’s red in the face, but by now he’s well aware that you love seeing him all flustered and squirming. “I jus’ got out of the shower.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he stutters, embarrassed. “Do you want me to call you back? So that you can put something on?”
“Why? You don’t like me in a bathrobe?” You tease him, knowing it’s the complete opposite. 
Chan sighs, shaking his head as a no. “I think I like you way too much in that. Which is a problem, you know, because I’m so far away from you…” 
He truly can’t wait to see you again. 
“But you’ll be back soon…” you smile at him through the phone, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “and you’ll get to see me in way less than a bathrobe.”
Chan’s cock stirs in his pants at the thought. Ever since he’d seen you naked he hasn’t been able to think of anything else while he touches himself. Ever since he got to feel you and taste you, he can’t get the thought out of his head. 
“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “Don’t say things like that. Please, not when I’m seven-hundred miles away from you and I can’t see you. I’m losing my mind over here, thinking of the last time we saw each other…” 
You smirk, and then slide the bathrobe off one of your shoulders. “Yeah? Whatcha thinking of?”  You bat your eyelashes at him, untying the knot on the robe, and Chan’s breath hitches in his throat. 
“Are we about to do what I think we’re about to do?” Chan can’t help but ask, a pained expression on his face as he palms himself over the shorts he wears to sleep, feeling himself growing harder under his own familiar touch. “‘Cause I’m down, fyi.” 
You nod. “If you’re thinking of phone sex, then yeah,” you bite your lip. “Now be good and take off your shirt, yeah?”
His t-shirt comes off in seconds and he shows his naked torso to you through the camera. He looks incredibly good, and you wish you could run your fingers all over his naked chest and pecs and arms and every single inch of his skin, really. Touch and kiss him until you get him all riled up - soft kisses on his neck that inevitably turn slutty until you’re fully sucking on his skin and leaving pretty marks there. The thought is enough to make you clench your thighs. 
“Now you. Please,” he speaks softly through the phone, slightly embarrassed to be the only one who’s so exposed right now. 
It’s only fair that you show him a little something, right? And even though he’s seen them a couple of times already, a tiny, muffled gasp still leaves Chan’s mouth once he finally sees your boobs on his phone screen. You’re smirking, of course you are, as you grope one with your own hand and squeeze it. Chan misses the feeling of having them in his hands. 
“Pretty. So pretty,” he mumbles, staring at your boobs while still palming himself, now fully hard. “How are you so perfect? ’t’s not possible, you’re not real. ‘M convinced you’re not real sometimes, you know?” 
You giggle, pinching your own nipple between your fingers. “I’m definitely real, I’ll show you when you’re back. And for the record, you’re the perfect one,” you bite your lip as you compliment him, still looking at his half-naked figure. 
“Baby? Pretty?” He mumbles, a tiny huff leaving his nostrils as he keeps looking at you playing with your tits, on full display for him to see. “Show me something more. Please, baby. Need it, need you.” 
“Only if you show me your pretty cock first.”
Taking his shorts off using only one hand is pretty uncomfortable, and Chan has to actually set his phone aside for a couple of seconds to slide them down his thighs, letting his cock spring free, hitting his skin with a loud slap. When he picks his phone again, he realizes he’s a bit self-conscious about showing himself completely naked to you over the phone, even though you literally had his cock in your mouth. You actually find it cute and somehow hot, honestly. 
“Don’t go shy on me, baby. It’s just us, you and me.” 
Chan nods convinced, and then angles his phone so that his hard manhood is now shown on camera, with his fingers wrapped around his base. Is he doing this right? Is there even a right way to do this? He’s never had phone sex before, obviously, so he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do right now. Should he just touch himself? Or perhaps should he wait for you to show yourself to him first? He opts for the first option. 
“It looks so hard. Wanna touch it so bad, wanna feel you in my mouth again.” 
Chan kicks his head back into the soft pillows, squeezing himself even tighter. “I’d kill to feel your mouth on me right now,” Chan grunts, not really paying attention to what he’s saying because, let’s face it, there’s no blood left in his brain. “S-Show me, pretty. Your… your pussy. Please. Need to see you.” 
The bathrobe finally comes off, and you too angle the phone in the best way possible for him to see every bit of you. He finally sees your pussy and his eyes roll in the back of his skull as he bites his lip. He’s never even fucked you yet and he’s already whipped for your pussy. If he focuses hard enough, Chan can still taste you on his tongue, he can still feel the way your thighs clenched so hard around his head to the point he couldn’t move as you came onto his tongue. He can still feel how wet you were as he moved his cock up and down your folds until he spilled his cum onto your stomach. 
“‘M so wet for you, Chan,” you speak softly, and he watches you as you run your fingers up and down your slit, not missing the way a pained gasp leaves your mouth when your pads brush your sensitive clit. “Wish you were here. Wish you were touching me right now, you’d feel so much better.”
Chan gives a long and painful stroke to his hopeless cock. “Don’t say that, pretty. Been thinkin’ about touching you the whole day. I woke up so horny for you…”
“Me too. I touched myself in the shower to the thought of your mouth on me…” you admit, slightly red in the face, as your fingers begin to circle your clit. “I can’t wait to see you again, Channie.”
“Me too, pretty- fuck,” he whimpers, stroking his cock a bit faster now, setting the pace he’s so familiar with. “I wanna do it so bad. Had a dream about it, you know?”
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
Chan’s cock throbs in his hand at the thought of the dream he’d had a couple of nights earlier. “We were at my place and- and we were touching each other, you know?” He whimpers, swiping his thumb over his painfully red tip. “A-And things escalated? I can’t really remember how or when, but at some point you…” 
“I?” You encourage him to speak, touching yourself faster, the thought of Chan dreaming about having sex with you driving you absolutely feral. 
“You got on top of me, pretty,” Chan whines pathetically. “You got on top of me and-and took my virginity. I blew so fast, pretty,” he chuckles, “made a mess on the bed.”
“Channie, I’m- fuck, baby, I’m cumming,” you warn him, your own orgasm catching you off guard. It’s so intense you have to close your legs and clench your thighs due to the oversensitivity. 
“M-Me too, baby. Pretty, fuck,“ white ropes of cum shoot right onto his abs and chest as he lets out the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard. He just keeps cumming until it starts dripping down his skin and it pools right at the base of his softening cock, staining the soft hair of his happy trail and a bit of his fingers, too. 
Chan and you remain silent for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths. You can’t wait to see each other, but it’s not just about sex. You miss each other in all the little things, in the routine, in the lunch breaks spent together and the stolen kisses when he drops you off at work, in the walks under the moonlight, in the soft touches you exchange under the covers when you spend the night together - all the sexual stuff is just a bonus.
“Wow, it was… it was really something,” Chan takes a deep breath. His hair is disheveled and he has his usual post-orgasmic grin on his face. Not that you’re doing much better, honestly - you’ll probably need another quick shower before going to bed. “Now I’m missing you even more, though. Wish I could hug you, wanna fall asleep together.”
“Soon, baby. Only a couple of days left and then we’ll be inseparable,” you smile at him through the phone screen, and he wishes he could kiss you right now. 
“I can’t wait,” he smiles back. 
A shower is very much needed, but neither of you feels like hanging up the video call, so you clean yourselves up while the call is still going, and then meet each other again once you’re done and ready to slip under the covers. And just like every night since Chan left, you fall asleep together, while watching each other’s cute, sleepy face over the screen, wishing you were in each other’s arms. 
ᥫ᭡
This time Chan is really, really ready. 
Shower? Taken. Cologne? Sprayed. He chose to wear his favorite t-shirt and jeans, and chose not to wear any piece of jewellery. He shaved his beard and put on a moisturizing cream to make sure his skin would be nice and soft for you to kiss and touch, and even applied lip balm for the exact same reason. Chan even shaved somewhere else, not fully, the same way he’s always showed himself to you. And ultimately, he sprayed some more cologne on, just to be sure he smells great. He spent an awful amount of time checking himself in the mirror, trying to ignore the way his legs felt kind of jelly and how fast his heart is beating in his chest - tonight is the night. 
That’s also why he touched himself in the shower, you know, to make sure he won’t blow as soon as he puts it in.
Of course, he brings with him the box of condoms he bought a while back - not that he’s hoping to use all of them, but he brought so many just in case something goes wrong because you never know. He rolled his eyes when Changbin and Minho teased him for a bit with their silly jokes and allusions to what’s going to happen, and raised his middle finger at them before closing the front door behind his back before hopping in his car and driving to your place, because you thankfully don’t have nosy and antisocial roommates who are always home. 
When you open the door, he thinks you’re more beautiful than ever. 
And no, you’re not wearing anything too special like a dress or something revealing or anything else. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, the one he gave you before he left for his work trip to Tokyo, and some baggy jeans. Still, he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Chan jumps into your arms as soon as you open the door, hugging you tight and burying his face in your neck, finally able to breathe in your scent after spending a week apart. 
“I missed you so much,” his voice is muffled, “‘m never leaving you again. Missed hugging you, having you in my arms. My pretty girl.”
You wrap your own arms around him, pulling him even closer, feeling his strong body pressed to yours. You’ve missed him so much, and now he’s here and you feel so happy you could cry.
“Missed you too, baby, so much,” you play with his hair, tugging at it while he’s still wrapped around you like a koala. “Video calls were fun and all, but I really missed the real thing, you know? Your hugs are the best in the world.” 
He chuckles. “I’m happy you like my hugs, pretty, because I’m totally gonna smother you with aaaall of my physical affection from now on to make up for the lost time.”
You pull away, looking at him, quirking an eyebrow. “All of your physical affection?”
Chan’s heartbeat picks up in his chest as soon as he hears your words - of course he understands the implication behind them, and he’s not caught off guard, it’s not that. He’s ready, he wants it, of course. It’s all he could think of for days, weeks even. 
“All of it,” he concludes, a hint of a smile on his face. 
“Oh,” you rest your palms on his broad chest, not tearing off your gaze from his beautiful hazelnut eyes, “sounds like a promise.” You tease him, kind of wanting to test his limits - you want to know if he’s really sure about it. Him being convinced and comfortable with you is what matters the most. 
“It is,” he nuzzles your cheek. “If you want to, of course. Want to show you how much I missed you,” he kisses you on the corner of your lips, “how much I want you,” a small peck on your mouth, “how much I love you.” 
Finally, he kisses you properly, his hot tongue in your mouth as you make out shamelessly in your living room. His hands come to cup your cheeks while yours pull him closer by the waist, hooking your fingers in the loop of his jeans until his body is pressed against yours. 
“Bedroom?” You mumble in between kisses, and Chan’s lips move to your neck - his touch so delicate and sensual it makes you shiver in anticipation. 
Chan hums against your skin, his hands squeezing your waist as he takes a tentative step forward, towards your bedroom. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, doesn’t want to pull away from you not even for one second. His hot kisses on your neck make wetness pool inside of your panties, and you can feel him get hard - then his lips are back on yours as you try to reach your room without pulling away from each other, bumping on door jambs and furniture edges on your way there, but you couldn’t care less right now. 
“I love you,” you whisper on his lips once your back hits the mattress - Chan hovering over you, his hands on each side of your head. 
“I love you too,” he presses his body on yours, and you spread your legs to accomodate him. His fingers toy with the hem of your t-shirt and before you know it, his hand slips under it, brushing the bare skin of your stomach until he cups one of your breasts with his palm and he’s met with the feeling of the lacy fabric of your bra. 
“Take it off,” you breathe, craving the feeling of Chan’s hands on your skin. He nods, and you arch your back, allowing him to slip the t-shirt off you. 
You don’t miss the way his eyes roll in the back of his head at the sight of your semi-naked breasts, covered only by the sexiest bra he’s ever seen - black, of course. When your fingers tug at his t-shirt, he wastes no time in taking it off at the speed of light - not an ounce of shyness in his moves, and you’re soon met with the sight of his bare chest and abs. You run your fingers all over his muscles, feeling them hard and toned under your touch. 
Your jeans are the next thing that comes off. Chan slides them down your thighs relatively quickly, if it weren’t for the way his brain literally short-circuited at the sight of your matching lacy panties. His pants soon reach the floor as well, leaving him in only his boxers that do nothing to hide his erection. Chan’s lips are back on yours as he positions himself between your legs once again, pressing his clothed cock on your pussy, and you both moan at the feeling. 
“Wanna make you cum,” he mutters on your skin as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and his words send a shiver down your spine. His hand reaches behind your back to unhook your bra. 
You whimper. “Right now?” You let him slide the piece of fabric off you, and Chan starts kissing your collarbone. 
“Yeah,” a kiss on the valley of your breasts. “It probably won’t be good, you know? The sex. Since it’s my first time and everything, so I really wanna make sure you cum. I don’t wanna be like those selfish guys who leave their partners unsatisfied.”
“You’re the most selfless person I know, Channie,” you mumble, breath hitching in your throat when he wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before moving to kiss your stomach. “You really don’t have to,” you tell him, but he’s already hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties. 
“But I really want to.”
Oh. 
Chan slides your panties off, kissing every inch of your inner thigh as he removes the very last piece of clothing covering your body. Even though he’s definitely not a pro at giving oral, since it’s something he only experienced a couple of times, he feels confident in his skills - he had a great teacher, after all. He tries to remember what you told him the first time he did this as his kisses move closer and closer to your core. 
Slow, that’s how you like it. Chan starts with a filthy lick that goes from your entrance to your clit, where he starts sucking. He’s a fast learner, that’s for sure. Chan buries his face in your cunt, lapping at your clit and stroking your hips with his thumbs while your body shakes and trembles under his touch as he eats you out. It’s messy, and he’s still learning, but it feels amazing nonetheless. You tug at his hair and he moans, even though you’re the one who’s being eaten out as if the world ended tonight. Chan brings you close to your high fast - even he’s surprised when he feels your thighs clenching around his head already, but can’t help but feel proud of himself. 
Your pretty moans and whimpers fill Chan’s ears and your bedroom as you cum on his tongue. He licks your arousal off you, swallowing your sweet release as your flavor fills his mouth - he gets so drunk on it. Maybe you’ll let him eat you out once more tonight, if he’s lucky. 
“Channie, baby. Too sensitive,” you whimper, tugging at his hair to get him to stop lapping at your cunt. He does pull away, but nuzzles and kisses your inner thigh for a while in a soothing way as you come down from your high. 
“Was it good?” He mumbles against your skin. He’s not teasing you, he’s really waiting for a feedback. 
You nod, caressing the back of his head. “Are you kidding? ’t was amazing.” 
He chuckles, embarrassed, hiding his face in your skin as he blushes. “Ah, I had a really good teacher,” he kisses your thigh. 
“Nah, I think you’re just naturally talented. Those lips are a guarantee,” you smirk. “C’mere.”
Chan lies down next to you, and cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, but you can still taste yourself on his lips when you kiss him. He gasps in your mouth when you catch him off guard by wrapping your fingers around his manhood over his boxers. He feels only slightly bigger than usual and very hard and hot and in a few minutes it’s going to be inside of you. 
He pulls away from your lips when you slide your hand under the waistband, finally touching him properly. “Baby. Pretty, I’m- I want you.” 
You give one long stroke on his cock and he whines. “Yeah? You’re ready?”
Chan kisses your naked shoulder. “Yeah. Want you now.”
You nod, “alright.”
Chan’s hands and limbs are shaking with nervousness as he gets up from the bed to retrieve his jeans jacket on the floor, fishing the box of condoms from inside the pocket. He pulls out one. He feels nervous as he comes back to where you’re lying all naked and pretty, waiting for him, and all of a sudden he’s more nervous than he’s ever been. 
“How do you… uh, how do you want to do this?” He tries to hide his insecurity behind a warm smile. It’s not like he’s changed his mind - he wants this, he wants it very much. He just doesn’t want to fuck this up or embarrass himself. 
“However you want, baby. We go at your pace,” you brush his knuckles in a comforting way, “maybe you should be on top.”
Chan nods. He pulls his boxers down slowly, letting his erection spring free and slap on his abdomen. He’s shaking even now as he’s tearing the condom wrapper open, and you sense his nervousness, so you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him. He rolls the condom onto his length pretty easily, and then takes a deep breath, his heart beating fast in his chest. 
“Channie. Baby, c’mere,” you mumble. 
He looks at you with puppy eyes as he lies on top of you, resting his head on your chest. “I’m sorry. I want this, I really do - I’m just nervous.” 
You run your fingers through his soft curls. “I’m nervous, too, you know?” You speak softly, kissing the top of his head, admitting for the first time tonight how you’re feeling, catching Chan off guard, because why would you be nervous? You’ve done this before. 
“You’re nervous? Why?” He has to ask, lifting his head to look into your eyes. 
You caress his cheek with your thumb. “Because it’s your first time,” you smile at him, “and I want you to have a nice memory of it, you know? I mean, what if you don’t like it with me? It’s going to… you know, set the bar? For whoever is gonna come next.”
“Ah, are you crazy?” Chan looks at you with a serious look on his face. “Of course I’m gonna have a nice memory, baby. I’m gonna have an amazing memory, and you know why?”
You shake your head as a no. “Why?” 
“Because it’s you who I’m experiencing this with,” he whispers on your lips, looking you in the eye. “And don’t you ever say that again - you know, the whoever is gonna come next part. There’s not gonna be anyone else. I’m in love with you and I wanna be with you for a very long time, so don’t even worry about shit like that, ‘kay?”
Unable to say anything, you just nod as you feel tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you’re quick to dry them with the back of your hand. Chan kisses your lips tenderly, and his warm touch comforts you. 
“I, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, eyes dropping to where his cock is resting between your bodies, still pretty fucking hard. 
“Do you want me to do it?” You offer, and Chan nods - ever since his friend Felix told him about that time he put it in the wrong hole accidentally he’s been terrified of embarrassing himself like that, too, so he figures it’s best if you help positioning his cock at your entrance. 
Your hand reaches down to wrap around his base, and you spread your legs a bit more just to be comfortable as Chan lifts his hips. You let the tip of his cock bump on your clit a couple of times, and then you gently position it on your entrance, still wet from your orgasm and Chan’s saliva. A shiver runs down Chan’s spine at the feeling - it’s already overwhelming in the best way possible. 
“Whenever you’re ready, Channie.” 
He nods. “You’re not gonna make fun of me if I cum too soon, right?”
You shake your head as a no, “I won’t make fun of you in any case, Channie. Promise.”
“Alright,” he takes a deep breath and then, he’s pushing inside of you. 
“B-Baby,” a chocked gasp leaves his mouth as soon as he feels your warmth wrapped around the tip of his cock. 
Even though he’s got a condom on, it still feels amazing, better than anything he’s experienced so far - even better than your mouth, which is his favorite thing in the world. You’re warm and so, so tight around him. You take a deep breath yourself since it’s been a while since you’ve last been intimate with someone, and your heart is beating so fast in your chest you’re actually scared you’re gonna pass out. 
“So good,” he mumbles, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip caught between his teeth as he slowly pushes the rest of his length inside of you. “Feels so good, oh my God, baby.”
Once he bottoms out inside of you, his body literally collapses on yours, and Chan hides his face in the crook of your neck. He leaves small pecks on your collarbone and shoulders, and you entangle your fingers in his curls and wrap your arm around his waist. He’s inside of you. He trusts and loves you so much and he gave you his virginity. He’s inside of you and hadn’t been inside of anyone else until now. The thought has you clenching around him involuntarily, and his head snaps up in your direction. 
“Don’t do that,” he whines, “I’m trying to last as much as possible, pretty.” 
You bite your lip, pulling a couple of strands of hair away from his face. Chan’s cheeks are flushed pink, and his pupils are fully blown - he looks so desperate and already on the edge. “Ah, it’s okay, Channie. You can cum whenever you want, baby. Just do what feels right for you.” 
But Chan absolutely refuses to bust after only putting it in without having even had the chance to fuck you. “N-No. Don’t wanna cum yet, wanna last longer. For you. Wanna feel you just a bit longer, pretty, wanna fuck you. You feel so good around me.” 
The first thrust inside of you is tentative and painfully slow. Chan lets out a cute hmph as he sinks back into your heat, not tearing his gaze off you. You’re beautiful, lying underneath him - your hair all over your pillow. He’s inside you. He’s finally inside of you, and he can’t believe it. He’s making love to the girl he’s so hopelessly in love with, and it almost feels as if his heart could explode out of joy and happiness and love right now. 
His thrusts are all but precise, he’s well aware of that. His movements are uncoordinated and the fact that he already feels on the verge of his orgasm doesn’t really help, but you seem to enjoy it. Your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and you’re taking deep breaths through your nose as you tug at Chan’s hair. It’s all good signs, right? 
“Does this feel good for you too?” Chan asks you, his voice coming out hoarse. 
You hum, “feels so good, Channie. Feel so full,” you whimper, looking down to where his cock is entering you slowly. Even though he knows he’s not the biggest guy out there, it still feels nice to hear. 
Chan’s gaze drops between your bodies, too, and he can’t help but let out an obscene grunt. “Feels so good, what the fuck,” he whines. “How can it feel this fucking good?” He whimpers and moans shamelessly as he continues to fuck into you slowly. “‘M not gonna last much longer, baby.”
You don’t mind. You just nod at him and wrap both your arms around his waist to pull him closer, and then grope one of his asscheeks with your hand, enjoying the way you can feel the muscle clench with each thrust. Then, you grope the other one, too, and then land a slap on his ass that has him folding like a piece of paper. 
“Baby… pretty, fuck-“ he sighs, already feeling his cock twitching inside of you - he won’t be able to stop it. “‘M sorry, baby, I’m- ‘m cumming, pretty.”
“Do it, Channie. Cum f’me. Wanna feel you cumming for me.”
His whole body freezes as he orgasms, spilling all of his white release inside the condom, and it’s the most amazing feeling ever. Chan keeps cumming for what it feels like minutes but it’s honestly just a handful of seconds, giving you everything. You wish there was no barrier between the two of you, you wish you could feel him fully, but this feels really nice nonetheless. 
Chan’s body collapses on yours as he pants heavily. He wraps his strong arms around your body, enveloping you with all of his warmth in a tight embrace. His head feels so light, and so does his body to the point Chan feels like he’s floating on a cloud. You kiss the top of Chan’s head, and he can feel your soft and delicate touch on his naked shoulders. 
Chan holds you closer, and you stay like this for a while until he pulls away when he can feel his cock starting to soften inside of you. Holding the base of his cock and the condom, he pulls out of you slowly and takes off the rubber, tying a tight knot on it to prevent his semen from spilling, then throws it into the bin together with the wrapper and lies down next to you once again. He feels absolutely spent, and hums happily when you pull the covers of your bed over your bodies as you snuggle closer to each other. 
“Is it normal I feel so tired?” He giggles, circling your waist with his arm. You rest your head on his chest, lulled by his heartbeat. 
You giggle as well, “yeah. It means it was good, hopefully?”
“It was amazing,” he kisses you on the forehead, his fingers drawing imaginary shapes on your skin. “I never knew something could feel this good. I’m convinced it’s because it was with you,” he sighs. “I’m so glad I waited, you know? Wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else.”
“Chan…”
“No, I’m serious. Everything feels right with you. It’s not just the sexual stuff, all the small things feel right with you. Even- even just lying on the couch with you or grabbing a coffee in shitty cafes, or cooking together,” he rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. “It’s you who make sense in my life. You just make everything better, pretty.”
“Stooop,” you pout, covering your face with both of your hands, “you’re gonna make me cry.”
He chuckles. “I’m so fucking happy I met you, pretty. I’m so fucking glad you got a flat tire that day, and I was there to help you. My life would be awfully plain and empty without you in it.”
He hears you sniffle and starts rubbing your back to soothe you. 
“Channie,” you mumble, voice muffled by his skin. “I’m- I’m happy I decided to open my heart to love again. I knew you’d be worth it, baby. I love you so much, Channie.”
He hugs you tighter and you stay like that for a long while - in silence, feeling incredibly happy and blessed to have found a love worth fighting for. A love that filled your lives with joy and serenity, a love that changed the both of you forever. You’re sure Chan’s the love of your life. He’s sure you’re his. 
It’s Chan who breaks the silence first, and you feel him getting hard against your thigh. 
“Pretty?”
“Hm?”
“You feel like going again?”
ᥫ᭡
-> 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬! "𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧", 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.
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hotpinkstars · 4 days
Text
LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader
- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.
- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....
- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912
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When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.
“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.
“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”
You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 
“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.
“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 
You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 
You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 
You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”
He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.
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Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 
But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,
“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”
“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”
You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 
“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.
“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”
You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 
“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 
But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.
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irndad · 28 days
Note
Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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livinginshambles · 2 months
Text
You'll never compare to her | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.
Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)
Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!
Masterlist
______________________________
“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.
“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.
You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.
Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”
James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.
“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.
James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”
“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”
James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”
You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.
The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.
Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”
“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”
“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.
You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.
Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”
You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.
“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.
“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”
Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“
“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.
“Then why-“
“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.
“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”
You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.
“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.
Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.
Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.
You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.
But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.
And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.
“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.
“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.
“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.
“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”
Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.
Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”
Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”
Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”
James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”
James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”
Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.
He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.
“Find who?”
James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.
“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”
You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.
“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.
Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”
You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.
You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.
“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“
“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.
James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.
You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.
You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”
“So you heard me?”
James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.
“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.
“Okay.”
When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.
“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”
Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.
James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.
James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.
Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.
“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.
“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.
Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.
“You will never compare to her.”
All you could manage was a  bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.
“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.
“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.
But James doubled down.
“You will never compare to her,”  he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.
You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”
James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”
 Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?
“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”
His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.
You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.
You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.
James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.
Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.
You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.
Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.
As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.
Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.
"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.
You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.
"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.
But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.
Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.
You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.
"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.
You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.
James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.
But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.
James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.
“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.
As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.
On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.
Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog
@mellowarcadefun @marauderssimpthings @tortured-artists @kazimierasm @ssc7514 @ietss @chieffanfun @narcissuspetal @jamesweather @nyrasunderwrld
@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette
@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld
@xcinnamonmalfoyx @k0la22 @quackitysdrugdealer @lovelyteenagebeard @padf00ts-l0ver @littlemisslovestoread @queerqueenlynn @dot-erdana-blog @siimplyalea @stilesks
@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia
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lovebugism · 1 month
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hello sweetheart, i read your prompt list and saw this one "hug?” “clingy, much?……” but hugs them anyway and my heart melted, i don't know if you already did this, but can we have something like that with our sweet but grumpy eddie? 🤍
ty for requesting! — eddie doesn't know why you're avoiding him (fluff, ditzy!reader, 0.9k)
Eddie lost sight of you ten minutes ago. 
You were squished between Robin and Steve on the loveseat last he saw you, giggling into your solo cup while they belted Total Eclipse of the Heart to you — at you — over the music and in their best Muppet impressions. 
He only remembers it so vividly ‘cause he was jealous. Not jealous because you were subjected to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’s drunken antics, of course, but jealous because you were with them. And so, so far away. 
Now you’re gone, and he misses you like a stray dog — aggressive and hungry and hurt. He walks up to Steve in the kitchen just the same. Hair wild. Button eyes glittering. Slightly reluctant. 
“Where’d she go?!” he shouts over the music, half-muffled into his drink. He uses the plastic cup like a shield ‘cause he doesn’t want people to know he’s missing you. The metalhead freak from the wrong side of town isn’t supposed to need the ball of sunshine from the suburbs. 
But alas.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Steve slurs, half-distracted as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him who she is. There’s only one person in the whole world he’d go looking for. “She went outside with Robin, I think—”
Eddie spins on the worn heel of his sneaker before the words can properly leave his mouth. He ducks through the bustling, drunken crowd and finds you sitting lonesome on the porch outside. Prettier than the full moon and all the stars in the velvet black sky combined. 
He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course. 
Definitely not.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.
“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.
You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”
It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it. 
You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.
You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.
Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”
A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.
Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”
“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.
The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.
“Clingy much?” he scoffs.
You nod with a proud smile. 
Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag. 
It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.
“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.
You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”
“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.
His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”
“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”
It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.
“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”
“Yeah. You should be,” he scoffs, mostly joking. He pouts softly and pulls you back into him again, nosing at your hair until his chapped lips brush your temple. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”
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flangore · 2 months
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❥ my sweet, my darling
feat.: Alastor / f!reader
summary: Your loving husband makes sure to keep an eye on you at all times — for the sake of your safety, of course! His shadows help quite a bit with that.
warnings: mildly controlling Alastor (but in a sweet way....)
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It's not often that you explicitly go against Alastor's wishes.
For one, that is because your goals and interests usually align either way; whether that's through fate or through Alastor's careful observations and plans is not for you to know. Secondly, you're well aware there's a good reason as to why he'd prefer to keep you out of the V's territory entirely; Vox seems eccentric and intimidating on a good day, and, from what you've heard, his obsession with your husband borders on insane. Neither of you doubt for even a second that he'd try and hurt or kidnap you just to get back at Alastor.
Today, however, you really can't help but make an exception. It's not your fault that the antique shop you heard of is located just past the outskirts of Alastor's part of town, and while this would usually mean that you'll simply go there together, stop by it during a walk, that just won't work, not when the necklace you've seen there is supposed to be a gift for him.
He's bought you plenty of jewellery before, both for special events such as Valentine's Day or your birthday, and simply just because a bracelet made him think of you, a ring fit well with your favourite dress, a hair accessory matched the shade of your eyes. It's safe to say Alastor spoils you profusely, and the urge to do the same for him is overwhelming.
You're determined, certainly — and yet, your throat suddenly feels tight when you eye the street in front of you, various posters and LED signs promoting the V's, naked bodies displayed in every storefront's window.
This isn't your kind of area, really. While you're not a prude per se, you're already not looking forward to other sinners coming up to talk to you, hands touching you unnecessarily much, tones sultry purrs.
It's for Alastor's sake, though. You're fine with some pushy demons approaching you as long as you keep your goal in mind; and seeing him smile with true surprise and joy was going to be worth it a thousand times. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself, taking one last look at the ominous sign, proudly claiming to have the wettest holes in all of Pride, you have been hiding behind.
It turns out your concerns are entirely unnecessary.
The very moment you step into the small alleyway, cringing instinctively in order to avoid drawing attention to yourself, shadow coils around your ankles, and a split second later you're back where you started, once more looking at the advertisement.
What?
Brows creasing, you move forward again; sure enough, you don't get further than a few metres before you're magically teleported behind the territory's border again. This is odd.
Two more attempts don't cut it, either. At this point, you're huffing, arms crossed in front of your chest, eyes narrowed unhappily, though, just as you raise your foot again, stubborn, the air around you shifts.
“It appears you're lost, dear.” Alastor's voice, sounding from behind you, tinged with amusement, really shouldn't make you flinch anymore, and yet you can't help but jump at his sudden materialisation, shadows curling around his limbs before finally fading into nothingness. “One would almost think you're doing it on purpose.”
“Goodness, you scared me”, you choke out, heart beating erratically against your ribcage. “I'm doing what on purpose?”
“Why, attempting to leave safe grounds, obviously.”
Ah. Right. Instinctively, you push your lips forward, hands now on your hips. You can't even deny any accusations. “Well”, you say, hesitating for a moment or three, “I was.”
Alastor leans forward, weight supported on his cane, eyebrows raised. “Is that so? I can only wonder why you'd endanger yourself this eagerly, darling.”
“That's a secret.”
“A secret?” His eyes sparkle, red glowing in the low light. “Colour me intrigued.”
“Well, I won't tell you.” You scoff. “Besides, I really doubt anything would have happened to me.”
“Is that so?” Alastor laughs, the noise so sharp that the contrast between it and the fondness in his gaze is startling. “Have you seen yourself, sweetheart? There were three men in the past five minutes alone, circling around you like vultures.”
The sudden use of the past tense makes you pause; you don't even bother to turn around and look for them, knowing you won't find anything that's left.
“Oh.”
“Yes, indeedy! Now, let's get you home, shall we?” Arms now linked together, Alastor is quick to lead you away from neon signs and bright LEDs; the one time you're about to be approached by a guy, seemingly blind to danger, to the reputation of the Radio Demon, his ears twitch backwards, the sound of his staff repeatedly hitting the ground the noise you decide to focus on instead of the quickly silenced screams.
It's quiet afterwards. Usually, you're able to enjoy the comfortable silence Alastor and you often settle in, proof of familiarity, though this time guilt gnaws at you, urging you to explain yourself, to prove that you didn't go against one of the few boundaries he has set without any important reason at all.
You'd hate for him to think that you don't take his concerns for you seriously. Your throat feels tight.
“I wanted to buy something for you.” The words leave your mouth quietly, though they catch his immediate interest nonetheless, scarlet gaze now focusing on your eyes, cast downwards. Still, he doesn't respond, prompting you to elaborate. “A necklace. I—, well. I thought it'd suit you.” The continued silence makes your chest ache. “You always buy me gifts that I absolutely adore; I merely wanted to do the same for you.”
Both of you come to a halt. A single claw moves underneath your chin, gently tipping it up. “I appreciate the effort, darling. Still, your safety is much more important to me than any surprise.” The warmed leather of his glove sends a shiver down your spine. “How about we go and take a look at it tomorrow, yes? I do promise to keep my eyes averted until after you've purchased it. Sound fair?”
That's not the point of a surprise gift. Nonetheless, your lips split into a toothy smile as you nod. “I'd love that.”
“Lovely! For now, I'm starved! How about I cook for us once we're back at the Hotel? What are you in the mood for, darling?”
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i cannot tell you how huge the urge to write a long multichapter fic for him is....
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jj-one · 1 month
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SALTY & SWEET 🥣
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pairing: established relationship, nerdy bf!dom!Jungkook x gf!reader, jk is around 21/22 in this genre/tags: smut, (some) fluff, angst, degradation, praise kink, oral (m receiving), facef*cking, food play, c*m play, c*m eating, use of word daddy (once) words: 981
**old repost from my deleted blog
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Oh you sad, sad little thing… always finding yourself in these compromising situations. The whole morning went as normal with Jungkook, he was super nice to you and smothered you with lots of loving kisses! But once he arrived back home from classes his entire mood shifted completely.
“Get on your knees, wanna use that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” Jungkook was hovering over you as you sat down.
You were just minding your business on the couch eating a bowl of strawberries when he said that to you.
“W-what?” Your eyes bug out of your head like a deer in headlights.
“Did I stutter? On your knees NOW!” His voice becomes more stern.
You squirm to get up, not wanting to waste another minute incase he gets angrier. Your body feels shaky from his intimidating persona, he usually comes off as sweet and caring but when he’s mad he becomes almost sadistic.
It didn’t take long for him to end up down your throat. All 7 inches of him being taken by you. You kept choking and gagging but the more you did it the more Jungkook would just keep pushing your head back down. His fingers latching onto your hair and thrusting his hips harder to get more of his cock deeper in your throat.
“C’mon, you can take it like the little pathetic slut you are. You’re my precious little pup right?”
His words made you so fucking wet for him.
You wanted to please him in the best way you could. Bobbing your head back and forth, his spit combined with your saliva all over your face. Jungkook likes it messy though, he also loves shooting his load out on your face after a long day. You acted like nothing but a toy for him to use, just a fuckdoll he can manipulate and dump all his cum into when he’s frustrated.
His glasses were sliding down to his nose as he keeps lowering his head to get a finer view of you. Your fucked out face was so angelic to him, so divine… you looked the most beautiful when you had Jungkook’s cock buried in your mouth.
“There atta-girl… such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” The way he talks to you will be your true weakness.
You had to prove your love to him. Your devotion. You wanted his cum as a reward so you had to work hard for it and push through the pain. You try humming to loosen up your vocal cords and take him better, the vibrations sent chills up his spine and he almost lost his balance for a second. Feeling the way he throbbed and twitched on your tongue made you moan against his shaft.
“Fuck yeah… good girl my good little fucking princess…”
You kept letting him throatfuck you and the tears came rolling down now. He loved seeing you become a crying fucked out mess for him, it filled his heart with the utmost joy.
“Aww.. my darling’s getting teary eyed, can’t take all of it huh??”
Your jaw hurts so bad but you can’t stop now, you have only one goal to achieve and that was to make your boyfriend cum all over your pretty face. His cock slammed into your uvula and you made a loud gagging noise, he would just grin and keep pushing hisself in you relentlessly. He laughed at your misery, the way your knees buckled and quivered while being under him.
He wouldn’t be laughing for too much longer though, one more thrust to the back of your throat would leave him nearly unable to talk. His body felt paralyzed. Eyes were violently rolling to the back of his head as he feels his release approaching. He jerks his hips back and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He doesn’t bring his cock to your face though, instead his attention is drawn to the bowl of strawberries you were eating from earlier.
He stands in front of it on the couch and viciously strokes his cock, large white ropes of cum come trickling down onto the fresh strawberries. Once he finishes he looks back at you now with an evil grin.
“Get on all fours for me doll.” He instructs you.
You do as you’re told, getting on your hands and knees, crawling your way towards him. He takes ones of the strawberries— that are now all coated with his hot delicious cum and brings it to your lips.
“Open wide.”
You open your mouth and he plops the strawberry in, you immediately close your mouth to start chewing. The strawberry was so sweet and juicy while Jungkook’s cum was warm and salty, this might be the perfect combination you’ve ever tried.
“Taste’s good right princess?”
You nod your head and finally speak “Yes, so yummy daddy, want to eat more!”
“Then go ahead, eat more.”
You dip your face in the bowl of strawberries and eat another one. You can’t get over how good his cum tastes with the savory fruit. He pets the top of your head like you were a kitten, just grinning at the sight of you eagerly eating his cum.
“Such a naughty little girl… you really are a huge slut.” He degrades you more, wrapping his hand around your neck as he lifts you from being on all fours.
You’re back on your knees again facing him while he kept a tight grip on you. The way this man had you so down bad for him, you were willing to let him do absolutely anything to satisfy his needs. Your body couldn’t stop trembling under his touch, he had you perfectly the way he wanted.
“Still look so pretty, even after sucking off my cock..” his hold on you was only getting tighter at this point.
“So obedient for me, always.”
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willsdreamgirl · 8 months
Text
“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆。˚
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tommy shelby x fem!reader
you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)
18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut
cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink
word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)
a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌
you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.
you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.
your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.
they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.
everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.
when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.
your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.
a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.
what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”
tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.
a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”
it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.
needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.
when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i���ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.
the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.
dearest y/n,
i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?
all my love,
tommy shelby.
you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.
dearest tommy,
to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.
only yours,
y/n.
tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.
that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.
4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.
“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.
after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”
your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”
he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.
he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”
you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”
“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.
things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.
ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.
you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.
he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.
“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.
“mornin’, sweetheart.”
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prythianpages · 2 months
Text
When I Kissed the Teacher | Azriel
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Summary: After crushing on Azriel for almost a year, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.
Warning: reader thirsting for Az and fluff for my batboy ♥
A/N: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea! Though I did a poll and Az won, I couldn't help myself and also write a version for Cas (you can read it here) as a huge thank you for following and reading my stuff. I just reached 1K followers ♥
This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:
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The first moment you saw Azriel, you were instantly drawn to him. 
His sun kissed skin radiated warmth. The hazel depths of his eyes hinted at wisdom earned through ages. His dark hair, a cascade of silken strands, framed a face sculpted to perfection. The Illyrian leathers he wore were a gift from the gods themselves as they only highlighted the well-defined muscles that lay beneath…
And his wings? Gods, those wings of his. They were massive yet delicate and iridescent. The way they always unfurled with such grace had your own wings fluttering in response.
But it wasn’t just the arresting beauty that surpassed all males you’ve encountered that drew you in. It was the impeccable way he carried himself. The mastery he exuded in combat, the patience he had while training you because if you’re going to be honest, you’re sure you pushed him past his limits. Yet, no matter how tough he was on you during training, Azriel was always kind to you outside of training grounds.
It didn’t take you long to fall for him and it didn’t matter how much you unleashed your inner turmoil onto the punching bag. Nothing could shake the strange fluttering sensation in your stomach every time your mind drifted to him. It’s like there were a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Sweat glistens on your forehead and your eyebrows furrow in concentration, too lost in your thoughts to pay mind to the silent spectator that had arrived minutes ago…until he finally steps out from the shadows and speaks.
“I’d hate to be the one on your mind right now.”
A misplaced punch lands awkwardly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your hand. “Azriel,” you breathe, your cheeks flushing as you cradle your hand close to your chest. If only he knew…
“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hazel eyes flashing with concern. He swiftly closes the distance between and gently takes your injured hand into his, inspecting it with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You could never scare me.”
Azriel raises an eyebrow, eyes lifting to meet yours. “Is that so?” He replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I may be going too soft on you then”
“Soft?” You exhale in an incredulous manner, remembering the way your last training session with Azriel had ended. 
He had taunted you and your Illyrian blood had heated at the challenge in his words, allowing him to coax you into combating him. Of course, you were no match for him. You had begun training only a year ago, thanks to Emerie’s invitation. Azriel had centuries on you. Your muscles were still aching from the aftermath.
Azriel chuckles. “Come,” he says, guiding you back into the house. His hand holds onto your wrist lightly, being careful so as not to hurt your injured hand further. “Let’s get you patched up.”
**
As Azriel carefully attends to your hand, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on him. His features are tense with concentration and concern, unbothered by the dark fringe that falls slightly over his eyes. Your uninjured hand is itching to run through those dark strands and brush his hair back for him.
You swear your heart skips a beat when Azriel lifts his gaze, catching your brazen staring. A flush spreads across your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, missing the subtle, self-satisfied smile that graces Azriel's lips.
The sudden intrusion of Nesta breaks the spell, her figure leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, an amused twinkle in her gaze. While you were oblivious to Azriel's reaction, Nesta, caught the soft smile he allowed himself.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Both of you turn your heads to find Nesta. There’s a smirk on her face as her eyes flicker between you and Azriel.
“Uh, no. Not at all,” you stammer, attempting to mask your embarrassment. “Just a little injury, that’s all.”
“Nothing to worry yourself over, Nesta,” Azriel chimes in, lowering his gaze to secure the bandage wrapped around your hand. “All done.”
“Thanks, Azriel.”
Azriel rises to his feet, and the shadows that dance around his shoulders seem to buzz with excitement over the soft way you had said his name. He pats your thigh, suppressing his smile as he stands.
Nesta's smirk transforms into a sly grin, her keen eyes not missing the way Azriel keeps his gaze averted from you to save you from further embarrassment. It doesn’t matter, anyway. His shadows are happy to inform him of the mortified look you send Nesta’s way followed by the way you silently mouth “stop” at her. 
"Well, that’s great news,” Nesta replies, grasping your uninjured hand and pulling you to your feet. “Thank you for taking care of her, Az. Now, if you don’t mind, y/n here is late to girl’s night.”
As Nesta ushers you out, Azriel watches with a mixture of amusement and warmth in his hazel eyes. Unbeknownst to you, the unexpected emotions that had taken residence in your heart were mirrored in Azriel’s.
**
Under the soft glow of fairy lights, you sit cross-legged on the plush rug, facing Nesta while Emerie and Gwyn sit on either side of you. An array of snacks, provided by the sentient house, sits in the middle of the circle you and your friends formed. And of course, it wouldn’t be a girl’s night without the age-old game of truth or dare.
“Your turn,” Emerie grins at you, exchanging a knowing look with the other two females. “Truth or dare?”
Given the mischievous glint in Nesta’s eyes, it was an obvious choice for you. Truth would be the safer option. Emerie’s grin falters, disappointed by your choice.
However, Gwyn sees an opportunity. She wraps her blanket tighter around herself, shifting in her spot eagerly. She leans forward to grab a chocolate covered strawberry before nonchalantly asking: “Do you like Azriel?”
Nesta scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, come on. Like we even have to ask.”
“True,” Gwyn giggles. “But I want to hear her say it.”
Heat rises to your cheeks for the third time tonight, creating a persistent warmth that makes you wonder if you might give yourself a fever. Your friends collectively hold their breaths in anticipation. Nesta’s gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering.
“Yes.”
The room erupts into squeals and teasing remarks, and your eyes widen, urging them to hush, terrified that Azriel, who is upstairs, might hear. It’s a futile attempt as their cheers only grow louder, making you bury your face in her hands.
“He likes you too.”
Your peak out from beneath your fingers. “What makes you say that?”
Nesta laughs in response but Emerie and Gywn are quick to tease you even further.  Gywn assumes the role of Azriel while Emerie assumes the role of you as they exchange glances and lingering touches. The two females jump to their feet and wooden swords appear in front of them. You look up with a glare directed at the sentient house.
With a swift flick of her wrist, Gwyn uses her wooden sword to knock Emerie’s out of her hand. “Again,” Gwyn nearly growls as she tries to mimic Azriel’s deep voice.
“I can’t,” Emerie replies, feigning shyness.
“I don’t sound like that!” You cry out in disbelief, turning to Nesta. “I don’t sound like that, right?”
Nesta shrugs her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mirth at the scene before her. Emerie and Gwyn ignore your protests, continuing to pretend to be you and Azriel.
“Oh, Azriel, my love,” Emerie swoons, the back of her hand flying to her forehead while her other hand hangs in the air. “I think I sprained my wrist.”
Gwyn gasps dramatically, diving in to catch Emerie before she could fall back against the fortress of pillows behind her. “No, not my sweet y/n, who I’m absolutely smitten with” Gwyn coos, bringing Emerie’s “injured” hand to her lips and kissing it.
Then, Gwyn and Emerie absolutely lose it, the two females falling onto the fortress of pillows as laughter consumes them, unfazed by the glare you’re now directing to them. Nesta stifles her own laughter, turning her attention back to you.
“He definitely likes you,” she repeats, her words awakening the butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if she can hear them fluttering too. “But he won’t make the first move. You’re going to have to do it yourself.”
“Absolutely not!”
 Nesta grins at you. “We’ll see about that.”
“Whatever,” you huff out. “It’s your turn now. Truth or dare?”
The night wears on, filled with more laughter, more shared secrets, and the occasional embarrassing dare. You got your friends back by daring them to have multiple spoonfuls of ice cream and tomato sauce. The house keeps you well supplied with snacks and your glasses of wine never go empty.
When it’s your turn again, you hesitate for a moment. You had thought “truth” had been the safer option but now, you know there is no safe option.
This time, you decide to be brave.
“Dare.”
"Fucking finally," Emerie grins, looking at Nesta while Gwyn smiles at you. Their plan is unfolding seamlessly...
“We dare you to kiss Azriel tomorrow after training.”
Your eyes widen in panic. “What? No way!”
Nesta, seemingly unfazed, inspects her nails with feigned boredom. "Coward," she mutters under her breath.
Her words, though hushed, ignite something deep within you. Your Illyrian blood stirs, the challenge resonating in your veins. Your eyes narrow, fixing on Nesta. "What did you say?"
Nesta meets your gaze as she repeats herself. Louder, this time. “Coward.”
The room falls into a hushed silence as your friends await your response. You bite your lip, contemplating the audacious dare. It was not in your nature to back down from a challenge.
After what felt like an eternity, you let out a deep exhale.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
**
You didn’t sleep at all last night but as Azriel circles around you, his eyes holding a glint of challenge, you are wide awake. Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta watch from the benches facing the sparring grounds while Cassian watches from a closer distance, keenly assessing your every move. Too caught up in your feelings over Azriel, you had failed to realize that this morning’s training session was an evaluation of the skills you had been working on over the past couple of months.
To say you're nervous was an understatement because not only did you have to prove yourself as the aspiring Valkyrie you’d like to become, you also had to prove to Nesta that you were not a coward. Taking a deep breath, your grip tightens on your sword.
Azriel, with his wings casting shadows on the ground, moves with grace. Each movement is precise and deliberate as your swords meet in a flurry of strikes, the sound of steel ringing in the air. Though you struggle, you do your best to keep up and hold your ground, determination burning bright.
Sweat begins to cling to your skin and your envious of the way Azriel hasn’t even broken a sweat himself. With every strike of his and every parry of yours, he continues to push you, his strikes growing harsher and stronger. You literally blink and in that swift second, Azriel knocks your sword out of your grip. A hiss escapes you and you swear your hear Gwyn and Emerie snicker from the sidelines as they find this situation all too familiar.
With a sweep of his leg, you lose your balance and find yourself falling onto one of the training mats. Azriel’s lips twitch upwards as he points his sword toward you. “Do you yield?”
You are weaponless and at his mercy but your stubbornness continues to burn bright. “No.”
In a sudden burst of energy, you land a kick on him, knocking his sword out of his grip just as he did to yours. The bold move leaves him momentarily stunned, his shadows coiling back in surprise. You take full advantage of his distraction, hooking your other leg behind his knees and bringing him down to the mat with you.
Azriel can only blink up at you as you straddle him, eyes widening when he feels a dagger–his dagger–pressed against his throat. How did you–
He’s unable to finish his thought as you shift above him and swallows thickly at the sensation of your body on top of his. The way your breathing is shallow and uneven and the way he can feel the warmth radiating off your body–
“You will.”
Your words have his attention drifting back to you. A radiant smile breaks across your face and his own lips curl upwards, hazel eyes softening as they stare into yours. “I yield,” he murmurs, ever so quietly, you wonder if you imagined it.
Your gaze drifts down to his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. And then the next moment, you’re kissing him. Softly and hesitantly, at first, but when Azriel responds, your heart fills with warmth. Your lips move against his with eager urgency.
Truthteller falls from your grasp and you bring your hand to grasp at the back of his neck instead, pulling him even closer. His hands find their place at your waist to keep you in place but then screams and squeals are piercing through the air. You’re immediately pulling away and jumping to your feet, absolutely flustered because in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten all about the audience you had.
You glance down at Azriel, desperately seeking a sign, but his expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. He looks nearly petrified. Your heart races and you begin to wonder if perhaps, you are a coward because all you want to do is run.
Your hand flies to your mouth. Doubts claw at the edges of your courage. What if Nesta was wrong? What if Azriel didn't like you? And you've just made a fool of yourself in front of him–your teacher– and your friends. 
Turning around, your eyes meet with the delightfully entertained audience. Gwyn and Emerie, caught up in the drama, cling to each other with excitement and unrestrained giggles. Nesta stands with the same smirk she gave you the night before though there’s a flicker of surprise in her blue-grey eyes. She hadn't expected you to follow through with the dare.
Meanwhile, Cassian’s gaze is fixed on the body behind you and he throws his head back in laughter. Ignoring the whispers and amused glances from those around you, you hastily make your exit, blind to the way you left Azriel a blushing fool.
Cassian approaches his friend, who remains rooted to his spot on the floor. Azriel is still processing the whirlwind of emotions you've stirred within him. There’s a teasing grin on Cassian’s lips. “Are you okay there, Az? You look a little–”
Azriel snaps out of the trance you've cast upon him to glare up at his friend. “Fuck off.”
He then jumps to his feet, dusting himself off and ignoring the curious glances of the females nearby. Determination fills his eyes as his head turns toward the direction you ran off to. He fears you have misinterpreted his initial shock and he can’t let this moment slip away. 
He needs to feel your soft lips against his again and more importantly, he needs to tell you that he feels the same way.
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a/n: Hope you all enjoyed this one! Cas's version is already up!
tagging: @hellodarling1357, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies
1K notes · View notes
makyurini · 1 year
Note
Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨
when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)
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cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?
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König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver
But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride
That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over
“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”
Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body
König, König, König
Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night
“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you
Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”
His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”
“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”
And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?
As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you
It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping
“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”
Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me
“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”
It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child
“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”
“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”
And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true
“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging
“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”
Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you
Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead
“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”
He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand
“What if I’m not pregnant though?”
The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”
You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.
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Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡
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theobsessivesideblog · 3 months
Text
Trust Issues
An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.
Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well
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He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 
But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 
He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 
“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 
“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”
“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.
You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.
He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 
His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 
“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”
He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 
“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”
“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 
Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 
“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”
“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”
“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”
“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”
His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.
“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”
You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.
“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 
His brow furrows in confusion. 
“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”
Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.
“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 
Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 
“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.
“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”
“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 
“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 
“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”
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ervotica · 10 months
Text
𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. [𝐟.𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫]
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you think finnick’s in danger, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect him. or, that time the mutts impersonated your fiancé and you lost your shit.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon level violence, finnick is cute, reader is traumatised and also crying. overall not my best writing but it’s something.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: apologies for my absence guys, life has been kicking me in the ass of late. here’s an apology fic, i know it sucks i am very rusty in the writing department. love ya🫶
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Finnick has been gone for ten minutes when the birds start circling; he’s disappeared into the trees, aimlessly digging when the sounds of flapping wings and voices hit the group’s poised ears.
You’re stumbling into the undergrowth at the first threat of danger, the breath quick to steal from your lungs as his voice rings in your ears.
“Y/N? Where are you? Help me!” Finnick’s voice calls, low and pained and drawn out terribly. Every sensible explanation dies, shrivels up and blackens in your head and you’re running towards the sound, swatting leaves and fallen branches out of the way.
“Finnick!” you shriek. “Finnick!”
Your heartbeat thumps in your own head, blood rushing and pounding when you trip and stumble your way further into the trees.
Peeta and Johanna are behind you, their grappling hands doing little to stop you on your rampage.
“They’re jabberjays, it’s not real!” Peeta tries to coax you down but it’s no use, you’re in a blind panic.
“Finn!” you scream for him again. “Finnick!”
Every awful scenario floods your head at once, of Snow and the Capitol and the torture they could inflict on him. It’s the only way to hurt you, hurting him, and Snow knows that.
Your cheeks are hot and damp with tears as you spin, frantic and wide eyed and desperate to catch a glimpse of Finnick; Johanna seizes you from behind, pushing you down to the ground and holding you there. When you thrash and lift your head, her hand clasps the back of your neck and forces your nose into the damp floor.
“It’s not real!” she growls.
He’s still screaming. Screaming for you. It hurts your ears and grabs your chest with white-hot panic, pure and unrelenting.
By the time the hour’s up, you’re limp, breath ragged and laboured. Johanna manhandles you up until you feel the bark of a tree digging into your back; you hiss and push her away indignantly. You have this far away look in your eyes, glazed and unfocused, only snapping to attention when a pair of footsteps bowl through the trees and crouch next to you.
“Finn,” you whisper, trembling as he wraps thick wired arms around you and pulls you flush to him. His pulse is fast and hard like a drum pressed to your cheek, his chest heaving as you climb him.
“It wasn’t real. I’m fine, we’re fine.”
You gasp and wheeze and clutch at him like he might slip away, a fist in his sandy hair, your shoulder wedged under his armpit. His grip is like iron around your waist and his breath is warm and comforting on the juncture of your shoulder.
“You’re okay,” you mumble, repeating over and over as though you’re trying to convince yourself.
“I’m okay. Look at me,” he demands. His hands are warm. “It wasn’t real.”
“Not real.” You rake fingernails across the nape of his neck, squeezing to keep him close. Your breath is ragged. “We’re fine.”
“There’s my girl.”
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churipu · 3 months
Note
hii hope you’re doing good and taking care of yourself!! Can u do jjk men headcannons when their s/o is finds a bug and is telling them to kill it (can u also add nanami)
JJK MEN KILLING BUGS FOR THEIR PARTNER
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featuring. nanami kento, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. cursing, bugs ew.
note. hii anonnn, as a person who despises bugs a lot. yes. this request is just *chefs kiss*, and i'm doing absolutely amazing bby, hbuuu?? i hope you like it and thank you so much for requesting mwah mwah <;33
AND U GUYS WE REACHED 800+ FOLLOWERS??? i really don't know what to say, thank you so much <33 this means a lot to me, and i feel so loved i'm gonna cry. i love u all
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NANAMI KENTO. your knight in shining armor. the moment you called out for him in a voice lacing with worry, he just knows what was up — you'd be fifteen minutes in your shower, and nanami is in the living room watching the television until you call out to him. voice loud, mixing in with the vivid sounds of water pouring.
"ken!"
he jolts up in surprise and walked towards the bathroom door, raising his hand to knock on the door a couple times, "are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks.
"come in, please," your voice was meek, and he could hear the shower turn off.
the male slowly opens the door, and he could feel the steam from your shower caressing his face lightly. you were there, still inside the shower with a nervous smile and a towel wrapping around you, "bug. kill. please?" was all you said.
"where is it, baby?"
you pointed at the sink, and there it was — the sacred and vile being, just sitting there beside the sink. though, it was so little nanami almost laugh, but seeing his partner being terrified; he was not going to make fun of them, he finds it adorable actually. and glad that the first thing you decided to do was call him for help.
nanami didn't even use a tissue, no hitting, no slapping, no squishing; he just grabs the bug in his grasp and tells you to have a nice shower and left.
your knight in shining armor.
GOJO SATORU. little bastard would definitely be all bark and no bite, he's all about that "oh, it's just a bug, baby. it's not like it's going to kill you" or "come on, baby, what's a bug going to do?"
until it flies. and he uses you as a shield.
"y/n kill that disgusting thing! holy fuck, i'm going to die." he cowered behind you, pointing at a little bug just resting on top of the kitchen counter — you rolled your eyes at him, not even having the energy to be as scared as him anymore.
"oh, it's just a bug, satoru. it's not like it's going to kill you," you mimicked his words sarcastically, and the male glares at you, wrapping his arms around you.
"it flies," he mumbled lowly, "bugs that can fly are disgusting. and don't quote my words on me, it hurts my pride," he kisses your shoulder, almost pouting.
"rock, paper, scissors? loser kills it," you asked him, raising your balled up fist with a smirk on your face.
he sighs, "bring it on, loser."
gojo lost. it took him half an hour and half a can of bug spray along with a mask to protect his handsome face from a possible bug attack, a pan lid to use as a shield, and a sandal (for protection) to get rid of the said bug.
SUKUNA RYOMEN. ignores you at first because you couldn't actually be serious? a human scared of a bug? just the mere thought of it makes him break out into laughter.
until he actually realizes it was that serious.
"brat, are you really not going to come out because there's a bug on the door?" he asks out in annoyance, standing in front of the door where you were on the other side of the open door, nodding with a lop-sided grin.
"come on, ryo. i hate bugs, 've always told you that," you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.
"it's a bug. it won't do anything," sukuna mutters out.
"bug bites kill more people than shark attacks every year," you informed him, drumming your foot as your anxious eyes looked over to the bug as it moves slowly all over the surface of the door, "ryo, please. just squish it."
"why don't you squish it?"
"because i'm scared."
"well, ha ha. i'm scared too," he tells you with a proud smirk, crossing his arms. he finds joy in seeing you like this, really — he finds it laugh worthy, sukuna could do this all day.
"huh. the king of curses having a fear of bugs? how cute." you muttered out.
alright, that took him by surprise. the male stomps over to the door and got rid of the said bug almost immediately, "'m not scared, i was just kidding."
"i know, i said that so you could kill the bug for me," you walked out of the door, brushing past him with a big smile.
sukuna 00
y/n 01
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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yongbokkari · 11 months
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interrupted ₊˚. ୭̥
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𖦹 pairing — bf!seungmin x reader
𖦹 word count — 1.5k+
𖦹 warnings — hurt/comfort, fluff, slight angst, veeeery small misunderstanding, pet names of babe and baby, seungmin had a bad day and accidentally released it on reader 😿🙏🏻🙏🏻
a/n — result of sentences formed on multiple of 3 am-s (also posting this at 3 am), hope you enjoyyy <33 oh and there may be a few like undercase letters lolol we'll see if i am willing to find them
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You were resting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. As soon as you heard the sound of keys jangling, you immediately got up and opened the door before he could even try to unlock it.
You were standing there, waiting for him to come in, but he judt stared at you as if not expecting to see you. "You're here," he said, his face full of signs of exasperation, tired after a long day at work.
"Am i not supposed to?" You joked, raising your eyebrows. but he just muttered a 'nevermind' before walking past you. "Long day?" you asked, attempting to make conversation with him, in hopes that it could distract him from the tiredness.
"Yeah. Think im gonna shower then take a nap," You had made a joke then, about him getting old and acting like an old man, attempting to lighten his mood. "Whatever," he replied to your jokes, making his way to his bedroom and you followed.
"Ah, come on. Old man can't take a joke anymore?" You giggled, poking at his sides when he just stopped in his tracks and turned to you.
"Can you just stop? I'm already having a bad enough day so you can you please stop bothering me?" He snapped, eyes tired but also glaring at you at the same time.
You were shook by the slight raise and edge to his voice so you couldn't really think of anything to reply to him. A few moments passed with you just staring at him and him you.
"Why are you even here," You heard Seungmin mutter before turning away from you, closing the bedroom door and leaving you alone.
"Right," you said to yourself. "Why am i even here?" it wasn't unusual for you to appear at Seungmin's house at random times, and he even made a spare key for you. But that didn't mean you could just come whenever you wanted to.
You gathered your things and got out of the house to drive yourself home. You weren't mad at him, far from it even. Of course you weren't, you didn't have the right to be.
You were more worried about what he said though. Were you really bothering him? Should you just stop going to his house unannounced again? You probably should. He probably just gave you a key just in case he lost his.
When you got home, you immediately started an assignment that was put on hold for quite long, hoping that it could distract you. It seemed seungmin had wanted some distance and space, so you were set on working on it until he reached out so you'd know when it was okay between you.
˖❁ˎˊ•°.
You were typing away on your laptop, earphones plugged in, slightly bobbing your head to the song playing, when you heard a knock on the door. You yelled, allowing your housemate to come in. Except it wasn't her, and when you turned back you were surprised to see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.
"Min?" You paused the song and took off your earphones, turning around to your boyfriend directly behind you. "Min, what are you doing here?"
"Why didn't you answer my texts?" He asked, ignoring your question. he looked absolutely tired, you wondered if he even got to sleep before coming here.
"Texts? My phone..." You looked around the desk you were working on, searching for your phone, discovering that it was on your bed. So you walked over to pick it up to check your notifications but the screen remained dark as you pressed the power button. "Ah... my battery ran out," You lightly chuckled, looking at Seungmin.
"Why didn't you charge your phone then?" He asked, his facial expression serious. It almost scared you how serious he looked, worrying if he had texted you about something important.
"I didn't notice my battery was low... and i was using my laptop for work, so i didn't check," You gestured to the laptop sitting on the desk. "Did you have something important to tell me? I'm so sorry Min, for not being there, I-" Your words were cut off when seungmin just pulled you in for a hug. You immediately wrapped your arms around his waist.
"So you're not ignoring me?" He asked. Usually, you were the one who had to reach up slightly to hug him since he always insisted on seeing you on the tip of your toes. But this time it was him who lowered his body, tucking his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Min, why would i ignore you?" You asked, genuinely curious as to how he had come to that thought. Then he sighed, as if relieved his worries were only what-ifs afterall. You started to rub his back then, and he had started to give in to your body warmth, almost letting his whole weight fall into your care.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."
You racked your brains for a while, honestly having forgotten about what happened back at his house.
"Oh, that? You don't need to apologize, Min. You were tired, I understand."
"No, it was unreasonable. I shouldn't have let my tiredness out on you," He insisted.
"Then it's fine, I forgive you," you replied, to which he silently thanked you by placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, still not breaking the hug. "But... do you really think so?" He hummed, questioning what you meant. "Do i really bother you?" he slowly pulled away, looking at your face.
"I won't get mad or upset Min, i promise. I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable because of me. So just tell me what you feel, and I'll act on it, I promise." You said, holding his hands in yours, affirming him that whatever his reply was, you were going to be fine and it won't cause even a slight damage to the relationship, if that was what he was worried about.
He only looked at you then, eyes darting from your left eye to the right, back and forth, mouth a bit downturned, and you were starting to get afraid that what you said made him upset when he cradled your left cheek in his hand.
"You're so good to me," he muttered, frown slightly deepening. "No, i didn't mean it, I don't know why I said that," he threw his head back and blew from his mouth, like he always did when he was about to but didn't want to cry.
He hugged you again pressing his nose even more into the crook of your neck, his eyebrows furrowing at his efforts to not cry. "I'm so sorry babe. You'd never be a bother to me, never. I- I love it when you wait for me to come home, I always do, but today I just- Today was so hard that I just-" He choked on his own breath so you pat his back, trying to get him to calm down. After gaining a steady breathing again, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"
"Well... A bit, but I knew you would never say that without a reason. My sweet boy would never," You chuckled, your hands patting his head, your fingers going through his hair.
He pulled away, meeting your eyes. "I'm so sorry," His eyes were slightly red, the bags under his eyes more prominent now you were seeing them upclose.
"Don't cry, Min, it's okay," You wiped the tears stained on his cheeks, caressing his under eyes. "Did you get any sleep? You look tired, my poor baby," You coo, trying to lighten the mood.
He shook his head. "I couldn't. Was thinking of you," Your heart ached at his soft eyes looking at yours like a puppy lost.
"Oh baby," He leaned into your hand that was cradling his cheek. "Should we get some now? Hm?" When he nodded, you continued, "You go lay down first, I'll go turn off my laptop."
As soon as you reached the bed, Seungmin took you in his arms, your head resting on his chest while one of his hands was on your waist, the other in your hair. Yours were wrapped tightly around his waist, melting into his warm embrace, contrast to your cold skin.
Suddenly he took one of your hands, his thumb caressing the back of it. "Thank you, Y/n, for always thinking of me... I love you."
You raised your head to look at him. "I love you too, Min." You pecked his lips, smiling softly, before laying your head atop his chest again. "Now sleep. Who should I look at after this if you really do turn into an old man?"
He lightly chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, as you slowly drift into sleep, hand in hand.
Seungmin wanted to show you how in love with you he was. Everything about you he adored and cherished and he was always on the verge of combusting from how much love for you he contains. Maybe someday that day will come, but for now he'll slowly take small steps into making that moment come true.
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