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#not my fault her boyfriend is insecure
theoriginalsapphic · 2 years
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Why i believe that byler is endgame (based only on what we have seen on the show). part 5
And by that, I mean: no color-coding analysis, no set props analysis, no actor interviews interpretation, no script analysis, no movies parallels analysis; nada. Only what we’ve seen on the show and nothing else.
This will use a lot of comparisons with m/leven because, despite the fact that some of you refuse to admit it, this is a love triangle.
Where do they end up at the end of season 4 and what does this mean for season 5?
So, a lot of things change during the season when it comes to these two relationships.
In the second episode of the season, Mike arrives to California. Although his encounter with El is sweet, his encounter with Will is awkward. However, during the season, we see Mike and El grow apart from each other, while Mike and Will tentatively try to fix their friendship and grow closer than they were at the beggining of the season, which is illustrated by the ending.
To talk further about it, it's necessary to discuss how these three characters feel in their relationships and the characters on their own.
how mike makes el feels
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how mike makes will feel
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how mike feels in his relationship with el
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how mike feels in his relationship with will
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El and Will and how their fathers shaped them
The show has drawn many parallels between El and Will, one of their biggest one being how they were both abused by a father from a young age, and how that has shaped their view of the world as well as their self-worth.
From what we’ve seen from El’s relationship with Brenner, he took her away from her mother, who loved her unconditionally since before meeting her, he has manipulated, made her a target against the other older children at the lab, he forced her into things she didn’t want to do (i.e: kill a cat, get her into a sensory deprivation tank to search in the upside down), he manipulated and used her over and over again.
On the other hand, we have Will’s relationship with his dad, which, even though we didn’t get to see much in the show (they haven’t even interacted!), we know he used to call him homophobic slurs from a young age and that he abandoned his family. There are also chilling pieces of dialogue (“he is good at hiding”, “he was never good at taking care of himself”) and character actions (Jonathan searching for Will in a car’s trunk) that it implies that it was very abusive situation.
However, abuse doesn’t present itself the same way, and it definitely doesn’t affect a person the same way, even when the abuser is the same person. I could write a whole mini-essay of how Jonathan and Will have the same abuser but the damage inflicted on them is very different.
To put it simply, Brenner and Lonnie messed them up in different ways.
In episode 3 of season 4, el is suffering greatly. She has lost Hopper, the first permanent parental-figure to treat like a child and not a means-to-an-end, and she has lost her powers, which has been the core of her identity her entire life, meaning she has lost her self. All the pain that she has been carrying for so long finally comes out in an explosive argument with Mike in which she reveals she feels like she doesn’t belong anywhere, that she is too different, that everyone thinks she is a monster. At her lowest point, she accepts to go to the NINA project to recover her powers, and learns more about herself and Brenner and their relationship that she had ever done before. It all culminates when El decides to leave Nevada to go to Hawkins to save her friends. When Brenner tries to stop her, she finally comes to terms with the abuse he has inflicted on her and all the other children at the laboratory, and concludes that he is the monster­­—not her.
El has built her worth around her powers and how much she can do with them to help others, so when she lost them, from her point of view, she was left with only the monstrous side of her. Brenner’s ambivalent love towards her based on how useful she could be to her, as well as her forced isolation of the world, made her to believe that she can never belong anywhere, that there is no place out there in the world for her outside of being a superhero. To have her say to her abuser’s face how he is the monster was probably one of my favorite moments from her, as well as an extremely cathartic one. By the end of season 4, El has finally realized her full complexity and that she is neither a monster nor a superhero. She is just a human being that was born with supernatural abilities, and is now choosing to use them for good, but ultimately, she wants to be defined beyond her powers, and she wants to be defined for who she is.
On the other hand, we have Will, who, similarly to El, has built his worth around being there for others. However, whereas as El’s is rooted on having powers and being a superhero, Will’s is based on his fear that he may be unlovable, and if he does or say the wrong thing, if he is not what people expect from him, they will leave him eventually. If his own father, one of the two people in the world that was meant to love him and want him unconditionally, could hate him, could abandon him… who’s to say that no one else will?
I don’t think is a coincidence that Will is the one that tries to keep the party together at any chance he gets (i.e: trying to keep the peace when Mike and Lucas begin fighting about who was supposed to be Vecna, how he calls out Mike for not knowing where Dustin is), and i don’t think is a coincidence either that he forgives so easily when others hurt him (because he is scared that if he loses the friends he currently has he will never have friends again), and it’s definitely not a coincidence that he tends to hide his problems even when it could put him in danger (because he doesn’t want to be seen as a burden).
A lot of people (myself included) criticized how Will indirectly confessing his feelings to Mike was used to develop a straight relationship. However, and in spite of the initial heartbreak of that scene, there was a silver lining: Jonathan listened. Jonathan, who became a pseudo-father to his own brother, probably even before their own dad left. Jonathan, who was shown throughout the series to talk to Will and try to make him feel better for being different, for liking things that other people dislike, for being a freak. Jonathan, that as soon as he had a moment to be alone with his brother, reassured him that he will always be there for him, and that he will always love him no matter what. And that, in my opinion, is what needs to happen with Will by the end of season 5: he needs to understand that he has a lot of people that will always love him and want him in his life no matter what.
Mike’s character
I honestly don’t like how some stranger things fans treat Mike as a character, or even some m/leven and byler shippers treat him, like he is seen as just something that can make El or Will happy without stopping to consider Mike as a character with his own needs and wants. (I’m not saying everyone does that because that’s generalizing and I don't like doing that, but I’ve seen quite a bit).
During the van scene, Mike opens up about his insecurities, about how he feels he is the random nerd to superhero El, how he is the lamer version of Louis Lane to El’s Superman. Usually, I wouldn’t mind a nice gender reversal of the hero/damsel in distress trope. However, in this case, it goes against what Mike wants to be: needed and special, the hero of the story.
Mike thrives on being needed, on protecting and taking care of others. In season 1, he searches for Will while he protects and hides El from the lab. In season 2, he protects and takes care of Will while he calls El in his walkie-talkie on the off-chance that she might still be out there.
It’s no coincidence that the majority of the general audience’s opinion on Mike starts to lose its positivity around season 3 and season 4, and that is because… he doesn’t feel needed anymore. At the beggining of season 3, El breaks up with Mike and spends her time establishing a relationship with Max, going shopping and trying new fashion style, reading new comics. A lot of viewers, as well as some characters in the show like Max and Nancy, call Mike controlling and tell him that El can make her own decisions, which I agree with. However, the point of this is not that Mike is some controlling boyfriend; the point is, he doesn’t know what to do when people don’t need him. In season 4, Will admits (indirectly) during his monologue that he was pushing Mike away. Although Will was trying to put some distance between them because of his feelings towards Mike, from Mike’s point of view, him and his best friend parted in somewhat good terms and then Will didn’t bother trying to keep in contact with him without giving a reason why.
The point is, Mike fears becoming unneeded to the people he loves, because in his head, being unneeded means being unwanted, means being unloved. That is the reason why, during the van scene, after sharing how insecure he feels about in his relationship, his whole face lights up when Will says that El [Will] will always need him.
He has spent too much time basing his self-worth on being what other people needed, which is why in season 5 he needs to relearn how to value himself. He can still be special, he can still be a hero (I personally believe in season 5 he will have a significant role in defeating Vecna), but first, he needs to understand that he can be loved and wanted without being needed.
end of season 4, volume 2
By the end of the season, Will confessed his feelings for Mike masking them as El's feelings and he has resigned himself to the fact that his love will never be reciprocated, and Mike gave El a love monologue.
And yet, this is how Mike/El and Mike/Will are by the end of the season.
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In case it wasn't obvious enough
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munamania · 1 year
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be so serious with me. do you think that shared trauma caused by interdimensional violence and death and government conspiracies and survivor’s guilt would seriously be outweighed by a petty high school breakup.
#be SO serious.#like. are you kidding. are you joking.#you'd isolate nancy from the other teens. two of her only living friends. bc of a stupid breakup in a dwindling failing unfortunately#incompatible relationship. you think that's like. a good take.#i'm personally a fan of steve and nancy weird awkward best friend soulmatism. they gave it a go it didnt work they still had fun chemistry#and they have all that shared experience.#i'm pretending i dont see s4's Moments#abby talks#i just got hit with this bc of a gifset of steve robin and nancy and the little gremlin in my brain went#oh people would Hate this. because god forbid nancy be anywhere near the golden duo. but they're STUPID#steve still admires nancy i think!!!! that's his first love!!!! and they made up in season 2 and so much has happened since???#i dont think he needed to say I may be a shit boyfriend because yeah no he wasnt. but he was not compatible for nancy#dealing with her trauma and her need for acknowledgment in barb's death. and her guilt. that's not a fault of either of them it just didnt#work. that's just. whoopsies oopsies it's almost like they needed to show an incompatibility there to eventually move her on to jonathan#which is so reductive and stupid and i wish she was just alone but whatever#and REGARDLESS of that. she is not responsible for his feelings of insecurity!!! she had a drunken rant and yeah that sucks it was harsh#but god everyone has their moments#another YOU PEOPLE ARE WEIRD!!!!!! moment. try fucking thinking for once#you don't have to like nancy but coming up with all these absurd ass excuses and centering her entire character arc around how she#interacts with men. oh i could kill you.#btw whatever i dont hate jon and nancy and it's a story and it's fine but god she could use time to just be with herself
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TENDER CARE. 18+
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pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary. you’ve been feeling insecure lately and your boyfriend, bucky knows just the way to make you feel pretty
word count. 2847
warnings. 18+ only!! hurt/comfort, reader feeling insecure, lots of hand kissing bc that shit makes me weak, kissing in general, praise, body worshiping, oral (f receiving) little bit of titty stuff, unprotected pinv sex, bucky being the best bf. minors dni
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It was late, the evening quiet - the winter moon, a bright slither of silver amongst the dark blue sky. 
As you lay in your bed, admiring her -the moon’s- beauty through the condensation of your window, your mind begins to drift, irrationality throwing hurdles at you. Your brain darting back and forth to those same thoughts you've been having more of lately - ones where doubt and insecurity flood any sense of logicality. 
You knew you had no reason to feel this way. Your boyfriend always went to grave lengths to ensure you felt loved and appreciated, showing you nothing but tender care. Though, there was just something in your brain, that little green gremlin instilling distrust within you - no fault to him.
You felt isolated with your sense of humility, often feeling as though you didn't have someone to confide in, someone to talk to. It wasn't an easy topic to bring up, and although you felt comfortable enough with Bucky to share your mind freely, this was something that you just could not stomach. 
Not only were you thinking about yourself, you were thinking of Bucky. The thought of admitting to him you felt insecure in your relationship felt like the highest form of betrayal. To confess to the man who's been torn apart and stitched together more times than one can count - that you felt unlovable, was something you couldn't bear. 
The amount of hurt you would cause him simply by sharing was enough to deter you. So, for that reason alone, you kept it hidden. Letting yourself wallow in the crappy feeling unaided. 
Your phone vibrates on your nightstand beside you, the screen obnoxiously bright - the white almost blinding you within your dim bedroom. Teary-eyed, you peek over at the caller ID, your boyfriend's name displayed beside his picture. 
You wanted to talk to him - to hear his voice, but you knew your wavering tone would give away your dismal state. So, you let his call go to voicemail, like all his others from this evening. 
Feeling guilt-ridden for declining his calls, you pick up your phone, deciding to send him a text instead. But when you unlock your phone, you see a pile of missed messages from Bucky, each text growing more and more worried at your sudden disappearance - his last one reading, 'I'll be over in 10' which was nearly ten minutes ago. 
You exhale in frustration, cursing yourself as you wipe your eyes - carefully blotting the sensitive skin with one hand, the other typing a response. You decided on a small, white lie, replying, 'sorry, I was sleeping.'
The second your thumb presses send, you hear a frantic string of taps on your door - the repeated sound of knuckles knocking. You take a moment to situate yourself before making your way to your front entrance, socked feet paddling over to answer. 
You peek through the peephole, your boyfriend on the other side - visibly distressed as he rakes through the front strands of his hair. You reach for the handle, unlocking the door with an expression you were sure to be disgrace. "I'm so sorry. I was in—" you start.
"Are you okay? You didn't answer. I got worried— I thought something happened," Bucky cuts you off, walking past you and stepping into your apartment.
You close the door behind him, turning to meet his frazzled features. "I know, I know. I'm really sorry. My phone was on silent, and I was in bed. I didn't see anything til just now," you confess, sharing parts of the truth.
He deeply exhales, gaze softening as he looks over you. He pauses, seeming like he's analysing you, eyes honing in on your evading ones. "What's wrong?" 
You knew your gag would be up sooner or later, but you didn't expect it to be this soon. Sometimes, it was like your boyfriend knew things about you before you even did yourself - as though you failed to remember who you were talking to.
"Nothing," you smile, kissing his cheek as you step past him. "Just tired— didn't sleep properly."
"Yeah?" he hums, not quite believing your half-truths. He kicks off his boots and follows you into your room, soft footsteps behind you like a shadow. "How was your day?" he asks, talking like he's scoping you out.
You sit on the foot of your bed, shrugging at him dismissingly. "Same old. How was yours?"
He steps towards you, eyes darting around your room before focusing on you - everything becoming more apparent. "Fine. Good," he nods, softly groaning as he takes a crouch in front of you, kneeling on the floor between your legs so he's level with you. "What's wrong? What's going on?" he asks, eyes following you with the movement of his head, brows narrowing.
"Nothing," you reply, speaking faintly. Responding minimally in case your voice were to break.
"No?" he questions, placing a delicate hand over your knee - the palm emitting warmth onto your skin through the fabric of your pyjamas.
You shake your head, bottom lip beginning to waver under his attention. 
"Then what's on your mind?" he asks gently, his tone warm and concerned.
"I told you," you avoid his eyes, looking down at your hands on your lap. "Didn't sleep well."
He sighs at your tenacity to push him away, head cocking to the side. He adjusts the stance on his knees, and your hands scramble for him - reaching out and holding onto him as if you were to stop him from leaving. Though only he wasn't leaving - he was just getting more comfortable. 
"I wasn't leaving," he murmurs, slipping his hands into yours, thumb brushing over the back of your hand assuringly. "Did you think I was going to leave you?" he asks, lips lining into a faint frown.
You notice his brows tug upwards in the middle, the tell-tell sign he was beginning to think too hard. "No, I was just— I... don't know."
"Well, I'm not," he responds shortly, speaking like he was being stern with you - tough love. "Now, what's going on with you?" he asks, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring squeeze, the silent act encouraging you. 
You inhale steadily, letting the air fill your lungs. "I haven't been feeling good."
He keeps his eyes on yours, following you. "Okay, why?" he questions shortly, wanting to get to the root of the problem as quickly as possible.
"I've been sad."
"Why?
You shrug. "I just have."
"I need more than that. Why have you been sad?"
"I don't know."
"Why?" he repeats, brows straightening.  
"Because I feel... ugly."
He hesitates, his shoulders slumping at your confession, visibly digesting your words. "Ugly?" he recites, the remark leaving a foul taste on his tongue. "Honey," he lingers, softly shaking his head.
Bucky stills, his forehead creasing with what you perceive to be pity. His mouth opens as though he's going to say something, only for it to snap back shut. He faintly sighs, bringing your hand to his lips. "You know that's not true, right?" he rhetorically asks, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.
You don't say anything, the only reply being a short exhale and an awkward smile.
"Because I think you..." he pauses, kissing another patch into your hand. "Are the prettiest," a slow smile lining his lips - an expression that's now mirroring yours.
It was so simple. Everything Bucky did to reassure you - he did with ease. Just the tiny, loving act instantly melting the tension in your mind. His care for you pushing away any sense of self-doubt.
He peppers another kiss into your hand. And another - littering a short string of them over your wrist. "Don't listen to your brain, okay? She's not always right," he murmurs, expression softening like it was reassuring his words.
"I know," you nod, weakly smiling at him. "Just—"
"Hard. I know," Bucky finishes your sentence, nodding at you understandingly. 
He leans forward and places a soft kiss on the centre of your lips - his own brushing over yours sweetly, the action grounding and comforting. He pulls away first, eyes half-lidded as they glance over you, focusing on the almost pleading look on your face.
Your free hand reaches up to his face, palm enclosing his jaw as you bring him back in for a kiss - lips working over his more urgently than the time before. 
"Thank you," you mumble against his mouth, merely pulling away to show your appreciation. "You're so kind to me."
His grip loosens on your hand, now sliding both up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - tongue slipping into your mouth willingly. His lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your throat. 
"Always," he murmurs, the short word muffling into your skin. Whispering, "I want to show you just how pretty you are."
A soft whine-like hum vibrates in your throat, the noise accepting his words eagerly. Your hand trails into the short strands of hair at the back of his head, fingers grazing his scalp as you hold him to the crook of your neck. Neck tilting to the side, allowing him more access to you as you reach for his jacket, pushing the fabric off his broad shoulders. 
He presses a final kiss into a patch of your skin and pulls away, looking at your ever-softening features - eyes and brows growing pliant under his attention. His hands slowly roam down to the hem of your t-shirt, fingers hooking under the fabric as they lift, pulling it off your head in a steady, swift motion.
You sit in front of him, chest bare and on display in front of him, letting him take you in - not shying away like you did earlier.
Bucky remains quiet, his eyes fixed on the lewd sight before him, silently storing the image for safekeeping. He brings his hands up towards your tits, cupping under each - holding them in his palms. "So beautiful," he hums, leaning in to place a kiss on the swell below your nipple, giving his attention to each breast.
He rolls them in his strong hands, delicately playing and toying with them, thumbs skimming over your sensitive, hardening nipples, pressing kisses into the skin above. He looks up at you from between your tits, eyes full of love, full of warmth - looking up into your blissed ones with nothing adoration. 
He places a hand over your middle - fingers spread wide as he nudges you backwards, silently and carefully laying you down. Your bare back against the covers with him kneeling on the floor between your spread thighs. 
Barely leaning over you, he reaches up to kiss a trail over your abdomen, lips skimming along your jittering stomach as his fingers slip into the waistband of your underwear and pyjama bottoms. He pulls them down - light tugs as he drags them off your hips and down your thighs, grazing kisses over your now-exposed skin as he undresses your lower half. 
Pulling the fabric off your ankles, he sets it aside, replacing the material that just covered you with kisses - lips grazing up the length of your legs, chaste pecks over your skin like he was worshipping you. The kisses trail higher and higher, reaching up to the crease between your thigh and cunt where he continues the worship, tongue faintly swiping over the skin.
Your hands worm into the roots of his dark hair, fingers locking on the shorts as you hold him to where you want him, guiding him to the needy little spot between your thighs. Chest rising and falling, inner thighs twitching as the anticipation builds in your stomach.
He situates himself in front of your pussy, lips mere inches away as he softly breathes over it - teasing you, his eyes locked on your trembling stomach above. He places a peck on the bottom of your slit. And another. Lining a stripe of kisses up your cunt til he reaches your clit where he skates past the nub, tongue skimming over it.
Hands working over your thighs and to your hips, he adjusts you, placing your legs over his shoulders - letting them drape freely over his blades as he delves in deeper between your thighs, caressing your plushy folds with his lips and tongue. 
You murmur the first half of his name only to be cut off by a whine, the desperate noise catching in your throat when he nips at your clit, his lips wrapping around the mound - tongue skillfully flickering across. 
The noises he muffles are lewd and obscene - gruff, soft groans as he adulates your pussy, pushing his mouth in closer. Your fingers tug tighter on his roots at the consuming feeling, back lifting from the bed in an arch, mindlessly grinding your cunt into his face. 
Within minutes, you become a twitching, moaning pile of mush, coating his chin with your slick as you cum - thighs clamping around Bucky's head between.
He places a final kiss on your pubic bone before pulling away, standing up with a chubbed-up cock in his pants, the area tenting after tasting you. You hold his gaze, looking up at him with blissed eyes and a stir in your stomach - the sight of him making your cunt twitch. 
He wipes the wet from his chin on the back of his hand, briskly drying his stubble before undressing his lower half - tugging down on his combat pants and boxers, letting the material pool around his ankles as his cock springs free. Full length hard and ready, tip leaking precum. 
You scooch up your bed, resting flat with your head on the pillow, eagerly awaiting him. Your thighs instinctively spread as he crawls up the bed and between your legs, slotting his lower half between you - anchoring his weight on his hands either side of your head.
He leans in to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue, the residual creamy slick transferring onto your own. Cock absentmindedly rubbing up against your pussy, the faint friction making you whimper into his mouth.
Your hands hook into the hem of his t-shirt, fingers gripping the bottom of the fabric as you guide it up his back, pulling it over his head as you break the kiss - his chest now bare and up against yours. 
Balancing on his left metal hand, he dips the other between you, reaching for his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. He gives himself a few short strokes, guiding his head towards you - pushing his tip through the slick of your folds, coating his cock in your wetness before sinking into you.
You take him at your own pace, walls fluttering and loosening around his shaft as he eases more of himself into you - your pussy swallowing little bits of him at a time. Your hand paws at his wrist placed on your hip, fingers enveloping around the thickness, silently pleading and begging him to get closer.
He looks down at the lewd sight of you spread out in front of him: your brows knitted, eyes soft, lips bitten - natural, unadulterated beauty all desperate and malleable for him. He notices the bliss cloud in your eyes and gives your glistening, stuffed pussy a final once over before hovering back over you, chest lingering above yours. 
His lips skim over your jaw, trailing even more kisses down the side of your throat, giving you easing, reassuring pecks as he slips more of his cock into you - distracting you from the dull ache. 
"You are so beautiful," he whispers into your skin, sealing the compliment with a kiss. "You really are," he adds, pressing kisses into your shoulder. "I don't know how you don't see it."
You bend at the knee, holding it at his side - the new angle opening your hips wider, allowing that last bit of his cock to slide in, head hitting at the hilt. You keep him snug to you, arms lazily wrapped around his neck, your other leg entangling with his as your lips shadow each other. 
The moonlit room fills with soft, wet clicking - the sound of your pussy and sticky skin hitting cuts through the bliss-filled noises that slip past both of your lips, lewd noises surrounding you in the dark.
Bucky pulls his forehead from the crook of your neck to look down at you, eyes hinting at something - like his mind was temporarily elsewhere.
"Earlier," he starts, his voice hoarse as his hips wind into you, cock rubbing your walls so nicely. "When you said that thing," he adds, following your eyes when they bashfully divert away. "You tell me when you feel like that... I'd be happy to remind you just how pretty you are."
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a/n. I had an idea for myself, what?? and my first full fic in almost a year??
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cjayius · 19 days
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MAGNETIC — PARK SUNGHOON
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SYNOPSIS. sunghoon had been stressed for weeks due to their comeback, and an argument with you makes him say really hurtful things, whether they were true or not. but at the end of the day, he knows you love him, and thats really all that matters to sunghoon.
pairing. idol!sunghoon x f!reader wc. 0.4k tw. kissing , slight angst , hoon and reader are fighting genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE )
the tension between you and sunghoon had been building for days. sunghoon barely spent time with you anymore. he was always at work, practicing for his new comeback, and when he was home, he was asleep.
of course, this was not sunghoon's fault at all. it's just that recently your schedules weren't aligning, and you'd rather be occupied than stay home waiting for your boyfriend, so you signed up for more work hours.
this arrangement led to the two of you being able to meet only once or twice in two weeks; you saw sunghoon less often, and you talked to him even lesser.
sunghoon wasn't stupid. he could tell something was wrong. his girlfriend had stopped responding to his messages, and this past month she had seemed off, but whenever he asked her about it, she brushed him off.
it started with a simple misunderstanding, as most arguments do. sunghoon had made a passing comment that struck a nerve, and before you knew it, the two of you were exchanging harsh words, each one stinging more than the last.
" you never listen to me ! " sunghoon's voice was sharp, you could hear the frustration oozing from his voice.
" i do listen, sunghoon, " you shot back, your own voice tinged with irritation, " you never take my opinions seriously ! "
the argument escalated quickly, fueled by the pent-up frustration and unspoken grievances. you both said things you didn't mean, and your words had cut deeper than you'd intended.
you resorted to sitting far from him, on the other end of the couch, refusing to communicate. sunghoon scoffed at your state, " you're always so quiet when it actually matters. you don't even care about us. "
his tone was accusing, and had unknowingly begun to dredge up insecurities you'd tried to bury. suddenly, the argument wasn't just about the disagreement at hand, you could tell that this had been on his mind for a while.
after a few minutes of staring, he was still met with silence from you. sunghoon stormed out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a sinking feeling in your chest.
hours passed in silence, but the argument hung heavy in the air. you tried to focus on other things, but your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon.
just as you were beginning to retire to the bedroom, the front door creaked open, and there stood your boyfriend, obviously surprised that you were still here.
he sighed, walking over to the kitchen counter behind you, pouring himself a glass of water. " i thought you wanted some space ? " he said, voice laced with annoyance.
you glanced up, you had spent enough time alone. " i don't need space, " you replied softly, voice barely above a whisper. " i need you, hoon. "
for a moment, there was silence, then, without another word, sunghoon crossed the room in quick strides, pulling you into his arms with a surprising tenderness.
" i'm sorry. " you smiled against his chest, as he whispered an apology in response to yours.
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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hi bae, can i pls request reader who’s recovering from eating problems and is gaining a bit of weight and gets insecure with poly marauders but they just find her more attractive cause of it
fighting demons rn
🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi sweetheart, apologies for the wait! I was hunting your demons with a crossbow. Thanks for requesting <3
cw: implied past disordered eating, body image issues
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
Your favorite high waisted jeans used to sit just so on your hips, practically hanging off your hip bones. Now, they hug your waist, which you try to reason is where they were always meant to be, but it feels so wrong on your body. Everything about your body feels wrong. You jam your fingers in the waistband, and there’s little give. You’re beginning to wonder if you should even bother with these, when you know you’ll eat and they’ll start to bite into your midsection like a punishment. But they’re your favorite jeans.
James comes through on his way to the bathroom with a careless “Hi, lovie,” and you drop your hands from where they’ve been pinching critically at your waist. 
“Hi,” you echo halfheartedly. 
James pauses, pivoting slightly to give you a curious look. You have an out here, you know. You could fake a smile or feign confusion, and he’d let it go. Perhaps he’d be keeping a closer eye on you today, but James will never push the issue if you don’t feel like talking. 
Maybe it’s the option that makes you think it might be nice to externalize. 
“I’ve gained weight,” you say plainly. There. 
James’ eyebrows shoot up, more surprised at the abruptness of your complaint than the complaint itself. “Well, I should hope so. You’ve been doing really well lately.” 
“It’s just,” you sigh, “my jeans don’t fit.” 
He gives you a quick look-over, then an odd sort of smile. “They look great to me. Do they not feel right?” 
You feel your mouth quirk to the side. A dissatisfied pinch. “They used to feel different.” 
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he says, going into the bathroom. You hear the satisfying schwick of his deodorant cap sliding off. “Do they still sell those same ones?”
You give a tentative nod as he emerges from the bathroom again, and he shrugs at you, a funny scrunch at the bridge of his nose. 
“Then get them in a bigger size.” 
Not what you want to hear. Not necessarily his fault, either. James doesn’t get it. How could he? The only time James’ doesn’t look like it was drawn into a superhero comic is the few weeks of off-season where he doesn’t train as hard and gets a bit of pudge around his middle. And even then, it’s a very lovable pudge. James Potter wouldn’t know insecurity if it slept in his bed every night. (Which it does. You do.) 
“That’s not the point,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “I just—I liked how these ones looked on me before. Don’t you think I look…different?” 
The scrunch migrates from the bridge of his nose to just above it, an unhappy notch between his brows. “Well, yeah. But I mean, I like it.” 
You give him a deadpan look. 
“I’m being honest.” James holds up his hands. “Really, sweetheart, I didn’t want to—I know talking about your body can be an issue for you, so I didn’t want to bring it up, but you’ve been looking fantastic lately.” 
You’re quiet, stuck. You aren’t sure what you’d wanted out of this anymore (validation, maybe?) but you’re not going to get it this way. You only feel bad for putting James in this position. He’s your boyfriend and a good one, he only ever had one way out of this. 
“Sorry,” you say, wrapping your arms around your torso, “I didn’t mean to fish for compliments.” 
“Hey.” He steps into your space, hooking his fingers through your belt loops to turn you towards him. “You’re not asking for anything I don’t want to give. You look amazing, I mean it.” Your eyes fall to his chest and he stoops to follow them, dark brows rising incredulously. “What, you don’t believe me?” 
You sigh. “I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Can we not—”
“Nope.” James lets go of one of your belt loops but keeps a firm hold on the other. “Sorry, no longer an option.” He begins tugging you out of the room. Your hips follow disloyally, and though you wrap your hands around his wrist, he holds fast. 
“James, come on.” You give a little resistance, but he drags you doggedly onward. You could tear out away if you commit to it, but these really are your favorite jeans, and James is just as likely to take your belt loop with him. 
In the living room, Sirius is mending a pair of James’ trousers while Remus does the crossword, which involves him reading the clues aloud and Sirius firing off unrelated and too-long words until Remus gets it himself. Remus hears your protest first, brows rising as James conducts you into the room. 
“What’s going on?” he asks, somewhat warily. 
“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s lovely,” James says, like Can you believe it? Remus blinks and Sirius’ eyes flit up from his work, one brow quirking.
“That’s not what I said,” you defend. 
He releases you, and you step away, crossing your arms over your midsection. “Go on, then.” James sounds truly encouraging, though dubious. “Tell us how lovely you are, angel.” 
You roll your eyes. It’s difficult not to feel frivolous when they put you on the spot like this. “I was only saying that I don’t like the fit of my jeans now.” 
If you hadn’t had Sirius’ full attention already, you do now. He sets down James’ trousers, beckoning you forward, “C’mere, let’s see.” 
You go to stand between his legs, dread coiled like a snake around your ribcage that only squeezes tighter at the unflinching intensity of Sirius’ gaze as he analyzes your face. 
You look down to escape it, sticking your thumb into the waistband of your jeans. “Look, they’ve gotten small—”
“I can see for myself,” he says softly, moving your hand out of the way and replacing your thumb with his own slender fingers. They’re cool against your abdomen. He slides them around to the side of your waist, tugging experimentally at the denim. “Gorgeous, these fit great. This is exactly where you’d usually want them to be. What’s the issue?” 
“It’s just—they don’t—” You feel more and more ridiculous by the second, and you can’t figure out if you’re frustrated with yourself or them for that. “They used to sit lower, and now I—I just feel like I look weird.”  
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” James insists, seating himself on the coffee table and setting his elbows on his knees. Sirius nudges your ankle with his foot, silent encouragement to sit between him and Remus. You comply. “You don’t look weird, sweetheart, you’re—listen, you’ve always been beautiful, but lately, it’s like—you’re just, you’re stunning.” 
You shrink from the compliment, face humiliatingly warm. “Thanks, Jamie, but you have to say that.” 
“No, he’s right,” Remus chimes in. He sounds so matter-of-fact, as if he’s simply recounting how traffic was on the way home from work today. “You don’t look the same as you did before, true, but it’s not a bad change. You’re just not used to seeing yourself healthy, is all.” 
“Exactly.” James throws up his palms, relieved. 
You consider this. It was warped perspective that had gotten you into this mess. Maybe you’re still not seeing things clearly quite yet. 
Sirius wraps a hand around the inside of your thigh, tugging it over one of his. “Babe, if these jeans are evidence of anything, it’s that you’re finally growing into the size you were always supposed to be. If you eventually have to get a larger pair, then fine. It still won’t mean anything about you. You’re exactly right, understand?” 
You nod, feeling thoroughly chastened, and Sirius grins. His fingertips dig into your thigh as he leans over to kiss your cheek. 
“Honestly, I don’t know how you can’t see it,” James says, looking pleased to have some validation from the other boys. “You’re radiant, lovie, your skin is glowing, you look happier—really, you’ve never been more lovely.” 
“It helps that we know you’re doing better, too,” Remus says, a bit quieter. “Frailty doesn’t suit you, dove. It’s…I love you no matter what, but it does make it easier when you’re kind to yourself. Feels more like we’re on the same team.” 
“Thanks,” you say softly, then once more for good measure. “Thanks, guys.” 
“Told you already,” James says, “you’re not asking for anything we don’t want to give.” 
“You liked it when these jeans fit a bit saggier, showed more skin, yeah?” Sirius asks. You nod with a shrug. It doesn’t feel quite so important now. “We can do that. We’ll get you the same ones, if you want, or another pair that might sit a bit better on your hips.” He gives your thigh a squeeze through your jeans. “Gotta show off this bod, right, babydoll?”
1K notes · View notes
ultravioletrayz · 2 months
Note
a request? what about your edging miguel and so you let him cum since he begging it however we continuing to do it? and so what about this but with cumplay ? you know,and he.....like into it,like you playing with he cum, on his body.thigh. abs, idk anywhere and just licking it idk?
so a kinda dom/sub!miguel x fem!reader
yea im crazy for a whiny men whos loves anything we do and espically whimper and beg
you with me girlie?
Yes yes yes, totally with you.
The plot for this was inspired by this ask, btw!!
@ce3stvu tagging my bby girl <3
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Pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x dom!f!reader
Warnings: 18+, handjob, edging, cumplay, cum eating, dacryphillia if you squint, themes of jealousy
Summary: you remind miguel who he belongs to
A/N: i love dom!migs, but something about imagining that big man all whiny and crying is sooo hot
Word Count: 1K
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It’s all that stupid bitch’s fault. The thought is swirling around in Miguel’s head on repeat as his hips pathetically twitch and spasm upwards to try and loosen the grip you have around the blushing tip of his cock. Still, you merely apply more pressure, squeezing his poor head so hard your fingers act as a makeshift cock ring, making it impossible for Miguel to acquire any sense of relief as your other hand fondles his heavy, aching balls with little skill, your only goal being to tease him. 
This was a much better way of reminding Miguel of your loyalty to one another than talking it out. Frankly, you didn’t even know how to approach discussing the topic. You were supposed to be Miguel’s angelic, bubbly little girlfriend. You didn’t want to cause a fight over some random spider-woman from work. 
Instead, you smile from ear to ear as you watch the beads of tears that cling to Miguel’s gorgeous, thick eyelashes as he sobs and begs to cum, after you’ve denied climax after climax with your possessive grip around the thick circumference of his dick. 
There’s no doubt in your mind that other spider-people can hear Miguel’s unapologetic whines from outside his office, and the thought makes your mind a hazy fog of lust and pride. Hopefully, that new girl that Miguel was training, the one that kept running her grubby hands all over his arms and back like you were an idiot and wouldn’t notice her blatant flirting. 
You had initially felt guilty when you pulled Miguel away from his sparring session with the girl, leading him to his office with one goal in mind: reiterating that Miguel is yours and yours alone.
But now that he's been forced into becoming this mess of desperation and sticky pre-cum, your worries and shame have vanished. Only your touch can make Miguel feel this way, making him lose all of his self-control and dignity. And he does the same thing to you. Sure, an outsider would probably say all of this jealousy and possessiveness is toxic or overbearing, but you and Miguel can't help but cling to one another. You're each other's soulmates. That new girl could never compare.
"Hah- ah, fuck! M-Mami, por favor… need- ah! need to cum. Please, please l-lemme cum-!" Miguel begs, his tear-stained cheek squished against the smooth material of your spider suit that conceals your tits, but the warmth of his face seeps through the fabric, his breath causing your nipples to perk up at the subtle contact as you lean over him and giggle. 
You keep your fingers squeezed around his tip, rubbing his swollen head in circular motions as your other hand cups his balls in the comfort of your palm. The tension around Miguel’s tip is almost torturous, making him curse and thrash around in his office chair as he desperately attempts to make your hand slip even slightly so that his dick can breathe again. 
The thick, chocolate-brown hair that adorns the tan flesh from his belly button down to his base caresses your forearm each time Miguel fails to push through the restraint of your fist and thrust into your closed hand. 
You feel bad for taking your insecurities out on your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend, who was just trying to be a good boss and do his job, so you decide to give him a break.
"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, guapo?" You coo teasingly, releasing the pressure around the leaky head of Miguel's cock and instead starting to pump his shaft, your pace fast and sloppy as you make up for the time spent prohibiting Miguel from having any kind of release. 
Miguel's climax hits him like a freight train, his back arching drastically and his claws digging into his seat as his rock-hard cock spurts bucket loads of cum up into the air, the gooey strands of his devotion to you hitting his toned abs and coating the hair on his thighs and stomach, creating a pooling mess of semen, sweat, and tears as he slumps back in his chair and splutters.
You watch with wide eyes as Miguel's cum decorates his tan skin, like an abstract painting of your composition. And you couldn't be more proud of yourself. In a hypnotised state of desire and devotion, you scramble to your knees in between Miguel's spread thighs. 
With a smile on your face, you lick a fat, sloppy stripe from Miguel's pelvis up to his juicy pecs, gathering his cum on your flat tongue and swallowing. He tastes divine.
No other bitch would treat him like this, using her hands and mouth to worship him like you do. You lap up every thick glob of shimmering cum from Miguel's panting body, not even able to savour it due to your desperation to taste all of him.
"You taste so good, Mig." You moan, eyes fluttering at the salty, decadent flavour of Miguel's cum flooding your senses. Your hand keeps pumping him slowly, milking every last drop of his delicious cum from his cock as you worship his body and devour his essence as it glistens on his stomach and thighs. 
Your free hand scoops up some of his mess to watch how the strings make your fingers stick together, before shoving your digits in your mouth and sucking the cum off your fingers. 
Miguel chuckles and moans at the sight of his pretty girl so desperate to please him, all to ensure his loyalty. The fact that you're more willing to drag your wet tongue up and down his cum-covered, shivering body than have a conversation about your feelings is a little odd, but Miguel's not complaining. It's sweet to see how much you love him, and how much you hate that new bitch for thinking she stands a chance against you.
Miguel holds your chin in his hands and stops you from feasting on any more of his cum, directing your gorgeous face upwards so that you're staring into his eyes. You rest your tacky hands on his thighs, making him tremble ever so slightly at the way your skin sticks to his, binding the two of you together. 
Breathlessly, Miguel whispers to you, his girl, his one and only, the love of his life, with a crooked smile on his sweaty, fucked-out face.
"Sólo para ti, hermosa."
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sick and tired of miguel being depicted as the “jealous and possessive” one in the relationship. If I had a man like that, I’d be just as crazy
520 notes · View notes
fvnalgirlcomplex · 5 months
Text
PRETTY ISN’T PRETTY ✸ J. HUGHES
and it begins!! this is irl but also mostly social media au because my tumblr is/was acting up and deleted most of what i had written and.. i’m lazy so!!! reader is referred to as ‘you’ and their looks are talked about but i tried to avoid describing looks… however… reader doesn’t have blonde hair but listen like every nhl fic uses a blonde girl for the fc so. i think its justified!! but sorry to anyone blonde reading lol. i didn’t rlly know how to end this tbh but i hope it’s still good and i hope u like it!! remember that you are beautiful! any negative things said obviously aren’t true :)
warnings: light mention/implication of an eating disorder, insecurities, hate comments, reader gets picked up (lowkey manhandled a little bit), suggestive comments (2), unedited writing
masterlist, series masterlist
fc: olivia rodrigo ( oliviarodrigo on ig )
summary: dating jack wasn’t gonna be easy, you knew that. you just thought him traveling a lot was gonna be the hardest, not being picked apart by his fans.
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bought a bunch of makeup,
tryna cover up my face
i started to skip lunch,
stopped eatin’ cake on birthdays
youruser
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liked by lhughes and 56,890 others
youruser 22!! shout out to cole caulfield
view 182 comments…
colecaulfield thank you for the shout out. I really needed it.
youruser anything for a fan
user19 she’s so cocky omg
yourfriend the cake was so good! you should’ve had some :(
youruser the cake wasn’t very big and i don’t really like cake that much anyways lol glad you liked it though!!
jackhughes ❤️
liked by youruser
user373 at least she chose a blurry pic so we don’t have to see her face lmaoo
jackhughes
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liked by trevorzegras and 120,293 others
jackhughes birthday girl 🎂
view 367 comments…
_quinnhughes haps
youruser damn. not even a full sentence 😔
user14 even his brother doesn’t like her lmao 💀
user298 i hope she knows she’s public enemy #1
user63 bro could do sm better
trevorzegras big! 22! 2️⃣2️⃣
user86 the way she looks at him though 🥹
user7 no..
user329 why are you so miserable
user738 he did her so dirty with the second picture 😭 makeup can only do so much but somehow she looks even worse than i imagined with no makeup
“I didn’t know it was such a big deal—”
“It shouldn’t have to be a big deal, Jack! I asked you not to post it, I don’t understand why you don’t listen!”
Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were taking your insecurities out on Jack when it really wasn’t his fault. But, it’s hard to stay calm when you’ve started to hate what you see everytime you look in the mirror, or someone takes a picture of you and that’s when you have makeup on. Words couldn’t describe how gross you feel without makeup on.
“I think you look gorgeous. I don’t know what the issue is.” Jack responded, too nonchalantly for your liking.
“The issue is that I don’t think I look gorgeous so I don’t want it out in the world for all your fans to see.” Jack sighed at your response. He knew what this was about but to him, you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He just couldn’t grasp how someone like you could be insecure.
“Y/n…” He said softly, grabbing the sides of your face. The mood in the room had quickly changed from tense to sad as soon as the word fans was mentioned. “You’re stunning. I know you don’t believe me but, you really are. All those comments are from a bunch of teenage girls who are jealous. I know it’s hard to block out but you just have to try ‘cause I wanna show everyone how pretty my girl is, okay?” Jack finished, trying to cheer you up. It didn’t really work to be honest but still, through glass eyes, you looked up at him and nodded before he brought you into a comforting hug.
You wanted to believe him, you really did. But it wasn’t just teen fan girls. It was also grown men. Men your boyfriends age who thought you were just as hideous. They couldn’t have been doing it for the same reasons as the fan girls. They had to have just been being honest, right?
‘cause there’s always somethin’ missin’
there’s always somethin’ in the mirror
that i think looks wrong
when pretty isn’t pretty enough,
what do you do?
You loved spending time with Jack. And you also loved getting to spend time with the people he cared about. But the pressure of looking good before going knowing that pictures would be taken, with or without you knowing, made you want to puke.
You started planning out your outfits far in advance, what shoes, how you’d do you hair, your makeup. Everything. You told yourself over and over again that the outfit is cute. You asked Jack about it and he always reassured you that you would look beautiful in anything and the friends you’d ask say the same thing.
But that still wasn’t enough to stop your brain from making you think everything was wrong. No matter you were wearing, when you looked in the mirror it just looked… wrong. Like something was missing.
“Babe?” Your boyfriends voice came softly through the bedroom door. Jack had invited you to the Devils Halloween Party this year which would be your first New Jersey Devils event. Jack and Luke were wearing matching spider-man costumes with Nico and Dawson who were currently at the brothers apartment. “You ready?” He asked you as he poked his head into the bedroom before fully stepping in, closing the door behind him.
“Yeah, I was just looking for my cat ears.” Lie. You were overanalyzing yourself like you always did before you went out but you knew if you told Jack that he’d feel bad and tell you that you didn’t have to go if you weren’t comfortable.
It wasn’t clear if Jack really believed your lie but he glanced around the room for the headband anyways before finding it on the edge of the bed next to you and placing them on your head for you.
Still sitting on the edge of the bed from when you were putting on your boots before you caught a look at yourself in the mirror, you looked up at Jack, who’s hands stayed on the side of your face after gently placing the headband on you.
Words weren’t exchanged as he looked at you, his thumbs tenderly moving over cheeks. He moved down to place a lovingly soft kiss on your forehead and then your lipstick covered lips.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your mouth. You almost believed him.
njdwag.updates
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liked by jackhughes and 2,384 others
njdwag.updates y/n at the halloween party with a fellow wag. she went as a black cat 🐈‍⬛
view 103 comments…
theotherwag sweetest girl to ever exist 🩷
user273 jacks like 🥹
user33 is this a safe space?
user649 depends…
user33 i love yn. and i love yn and jack!! they’re so cute and it’s so obvious everyone that hates her is just jealous :/
user472 REAL!!! they claim to be fans of jack but hate to see him happy… like something isn’t adding up??
liked by 208 others
user634 wait jack went as spider-man and she went as a black cat?? she’s kinda funny for that
user710 jack probably didn’t want to outright match with her 💀
user845 her standing next to another wag.. this is so sad like jack!! wake up!!
and everybody’s keepin’ it up, so you think it’s you
i could change up my body and change up my face
i could try every lipstick in every shade
but i’d always feel the same
‘cause pretty isn’t pretty enough anyways
njdwags
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liked by 1,266 others
njdwags y/n y/l/n at her colleges football game with friends!
view 103 comments…
user968 everytime there’s a picture of her standing next to someone it really highlights how ugly she is LMAO
user263 idk why people hate her sm she’s so pretty
user945 she’s even prettier in person! i met her at the game and she was so nice. it’s so sad to see all the hate she gets :(
liked by njdwags
user293 we have class together!! she’s literally so sweet and smart
user683 ugly ass
user78 she chose a college football game over her boyfriends hockey game…
user537 why does she always have her tongue out 💀
and i try to ignorе it, but it's everythin' i see
it’s on the poster on the wall, it's in like every magazine
it’s in my phone, it's in my head, it's in the boys i bring to bed
it’s all around, it's all the time, i don't know why i even try
It’s like you couldn’t stop yourself from reading comments on posts about you. You knew you should ignore but it seemed impossible to ignore at this point.
You knew the comments would be negative like they always were but you always had hope they would be nice for once. And there was nice ones sometimes! But most were so overwhelmingly negative, you couldn’t even focus on the positives.
And it wasn’t just comments either, no. Not anymore at least. Since, you’ve read the comments, it’s like all the negative has leaked out of your phone and into every aspect of your life.
It was when you visited your family over winter break, you had totally forgotten about the posters you had in past years of icons from your childhood. Icons who were so how all skinny or blonde or had stunning blue eyes or all three. The break was supposed to get you away from all that and yet, you still cried yourself to sleep that first night.
Every aspect of life also included you and your boyfriend. You knew before you and Jack had started dating, he was constantly liking other girls bikini pics on instagram. And even though he had stopped doing that, you’d still seen tweets from his fans in the past joking about how he was “always at the scene of the crime” with a screenshot of his like on a picture of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. And while you tried to ignore it, you noticed of a pattern with all the girls. They looked a lot like the icons from your childhood. Nothing like you.
So now, late at night, when you were supposed to be having quiet and sweet moments with your boyfriend; your boyfriend that you didn’t get to see very often at that! You spent those moments thinking about those stupid likes on those stupid pictures of those stupidly beautiful girls.
And as for you, the comments had really gotten to your head. Even when you weren’t with Jack and you weren’t on your phone or in your childhood room. You still found someone to compare yourself to. It was like some kind of superpower.
and i bought all the clothes that they told me to buy
i chased some dumb ideal my entire life
and none of it matters and none of it ends
you just feel like shit all over again
Was this silly? It feel silly.
This didn’t feel like you but a change was needed.
Jack (and Luke) had been hanging out with the team all day and you had the day off. You had decided to spend the time alone shopping for clothes that you would’ve never worn before this past month and a box of blonde hair dye.
“We’re home!”
Luke’s voice rang through the apartment, snapping you out of your trance that you were in while staring out the box of hair dye taunting you on the bathroom counter.
“Y/n?” Now it was Jacks voice that made its way through the apartment.
“Bathroom!”
You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door before a knock on the door, hesitating before opening the door before him. He slipped in before locking the door behind him.
“I was gonna jump in the shower if he wanted to join me.” Jack told you, his hands sliding around your waist with his back to the door. Naturally, your hands slipped around to rest behind his neck, forgetting about the hair dye sitting on the counter.
“I think I’m gonna have to pass this time—”
“You’re gonna dye your hair?” Jack cut you off, his eyes focused behind you.
“Oh- Yeah, I just, um, wanted a change I guess.”
Jack didn’t say anything or take his eyes off of the box of hair dye. He didn’t buy it for a second but he just didn’t understand. How could you not see how beautiful you were. Jack had known the comments were bad, he just didn’t realize they were getting to you this badly. He looked back to you, who had a guilty look in your eyes. Jack sighed before moving you over to the counter, placing you next to the box.
“Baby, if you really want to dye your hair blonde; go for for it. But I don’t think you want to.” You couldn’t even look at him. You felt embarrassed that you’d been confronted about how out of hand these insecurities have gotten, even if it wasn’t really your fault. You felt like a child being scolded. “I know we’ve talked about this before but you really have to listen to me this time okay, babe?”
Jacks hand came up to your chin, gently pushing your head up to make eye contact with him.
“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I mean that. All those assholes just want to find someone to hate more than themselves and I’m sorry that dating me has made you a target for that. But blonde hair dye isn’t gonna make them stop. I’ll say something— I should’ve said something sooner but I’ll do it now. Just- Just don’t change for them because they won’t ever be happy. Pretty isn’t pretty enough for them, okay?”
You were crying now. Because you knew he was right and you were upset you had let them drive you crazy. You continued to cry as your boyfriends arm came around your frame. You uttered apologies, not quite sure for what, while his hand rubbed your back.
After a while, your tears stopped and Jack pulled away. “I love you. And I told you, if you really want to go blonde, go for it. I mean, you’ll look hot either way—”
“Jack!”
“Okay, okay. Blonde or no blonde.” He asked with a small smile on his face, holding up the box of hair dye.
“No blonde.”
Jacks smile grew as he threw the box into the trashcan. His hands slid down to your thighs, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.
“So… can we get that shower now?”
620 notes · View notes
thebowieconstricker · 2 months
Note
Hello! I saw you wanted requests for Lucifer, and I would love any sort of angst where Lucifer ends up comforting the reader, like maybe something happened to the reader, or the reader is just really stressed and just breaks down
Ease My Mind
(Lucifer Morningstar x reader)
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AN: To this request: yes yes yes yes YES I just KNOW that he gives the best hugs and is so ready to comfort the people he loves. For this fic, I decided the angst is a little of everything, job struggles, moral dilemmas, and some self-doubt, so I hope I delivered. This isn’t proofread so please alert me to any errors! Thank you for your request! <333
Summary: You have a bad day at work and it triggers a breakdown. Luckily, your big bad boyfriend is here to help.
Tags: Gender neutral reader, could be read as platonic if you reeeeally squint but it’s implied romantic, heavy on the angst, a dash of fluff, Lucifer is trying his best, you guys are precious.
Warnings: Reader is afraid they’re being used by the people around them and they have lots of thoughts about being useless and others not liking them.
Also, the title is inspired by the song “Ease My Mind” by Ben Platt, go listen to it! Enjoy ya heathens!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’ve been used by others for your entire life.
And now you were stuck in that same cycle in death.
As a young, naive, alive-person, you were desperate for some one to love you. Growing up in an environment where compassion was scare, you decided that the only way to get people to notice you was by offering to help them in some way. A favor, a ride, somewhere to crash, and, for one specific person, a place to hide the bodies. In life, you had gotten so deep into your desire to please others that you had latched onto the first person to give you the time of day. Unfortunately for you, that individual happened to have a thing for serial killing.
Looking back on it now as you miserably walked back to the hotel, tears threatening to fall down your face, you couldn’t think about anything other than how stupid and useless you were. It was your fault that they were found out, your fault that the innocents were dead in the first place, your fault you were stuck in hell and that fucker was still out there.
How much time had passed on Earth? How many more had they killed?
On most days, you could compartmentalize, putting the bad thoughts in a little box and shoving it in the back of your brain, but work had broken you today. You worked for the Vees, specifically Velvette, and it was no secret how they overworked and abused their staff. You were stuck picking up Velvette’s leftover energy drinks for as long as she had control of your soul.
And yet. You thought maybe someday, someday you might make a connection. You might impress her, or surprise her, or something, and maybe she would give you a break.
But no. Today you had been an hour late for the first time and Velvette had screeched at you, calling out all of your flaws and insecurities and bringing all of the horrible memories that you had oh-so-carefully stowed away to light. But you held back tears and did your fucking job, the emotions boiling all day and the hectic office space doing nothing to calm it.
You had needed this cry for a long time, and now there was no stopping it.
Walking along the brimstone pathways, you finally made your way to the rickety Hazbin Hotel. Its incomprehensible height only worsened your now growing headache as you walked up to the doors, grabbing the handles and swinging the heavy iron frame and red-stained glass open.
You immediately started towards your room, but you were blocked by the obnoxiously cheery Princess of Hell herself, Charlie.
Charlie’s not obnoxious, you’re so vile for thinking that.
Shit, the thoughts were getting worse and you could not do this right now.
Charlie, oblivious to your mood, smiled brightly. “There you are! How was work? I’ve got someone here who’s been waiting-“
You shoved past her, bumping her harshly.
“Not in the mood.”
Charlie frowned in confusion behind you.
“But, wait, hey-“ You ignored her pleas and- ah shit, now Angel’s in front of you.
“Hey, babe, you might wanna hang around for a sec-“
You shut your eyes tightly and moved your hands towards his chest, your fight or flight kicking in as you pushed him.
“ANGEL, leave me alone.”
Why would you yell at Angel like that? He’s just being nice.
Shut up shut up SHUT UP
Everything was only getting worse. You bolted to the grand staircase and raced up the steps. As you sped down the seemingly infinite hallways, the tears you had been fighting back for the last millennia finally fell. With a choked sob, you finally spotted your bedroom and lurched for the doorknob, swinging the door open and slamming it behind you as you bursted into your room. You ran to your bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly as you loudly cried.
Charlie only keeps you here because she needs the guests, you know. She hates you. They all hate you. They wish you weren’t here. You’re just lying there, crying, why would they want you?
The hateful thoughts were all you could hear in your mind. As you pulled your knees to your arms holding your pillow, you wanted nothing more than to disappear. To just pop out of existence and finally be free of the burden of yourself.
Then, suddenly, three knocks at the door.
“GO AWAY.” You screamed, throat on fire from your sobbing.
A voice came from outside. A smooth, relaxed, kind male voice.
“It’s me, hon.”
You froze, terrified. Quickly you climbed to the floor on the left side of your bed, blocking your body from the view of the door. You took several deep breaths, trying to steady your nerves.
“Come in.” You said shakily.
You heard the door creek open, then footsteps.
“Where ya hiding these days?” He awkwardly chuckled, clearly trying to lighten up the mood you were in.
“Just- stay over there.” You were still holding your pillow, and you gave it an extra squeeze.
“I’m a mess right now.” You sniffled.
He paused, like he was thinking. “Well, if that’s what you want, but I hope you know by now that I’m always happy to see you. Even when you’re a mess.”
You felt the bed shift. He was sitting on the opposite side.
Like a child looking for a secret, you turned around to look at the back of his head. His hat was gone, probably left downstairs, and all you saw was his sweep of blond hair.
He made a ‘hm’ sound. “Bad day?”
You nodded. Then, realizing he couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah.”
You watched him nod. “I’m sorry about that.” He fiddled with his cane, his hands tightening and loosening around it. “Would you… like to talk about it?”
You paused.
Lucifer had been a confidant of yours since you first arrived in Hell. He was the one to tell you what was going on right after you died, calming you down and offering you a place to stay. Sure, you didn’t know that he was literally the Devil, but everything about him made you feel at peace. Like you could deal with the hand you were dealt.
Secretly, though, you were waiting.
Waiting for the moment when he would reveal that he only kept you around because he needed you to do something for him.
No one was that kind, or caring, or wonderful.
He wants something from you. Why else would he keep coming back?
You had yet to answer his question. Lucifer sighed.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?”
The voices were still wringing in your head, you were still crying, and you felt pathetic.
“I- I don’t- fuck, would you please stop acting like you care?” You knew your words were harsh but they were begging to be said.
His posture straightened in surprise.
“I do care! What makes you think I don’t care?” He sounded hurt.
Nice going, you hurt his feelings.
You bent forward, hands covering your face in frustration. A fresh wave of tears rises through your body and you loudly cried out, too scared and angry and sad to hide it anymore.
“Woah, woah, hey, it’s okay, hon.” Lucifer’s voice was nearing your form on the ground, and he was quickly at your side. You could feel his presence beside you.
He sighed in exhaustion. “Listen, I’m not- I’m not the greatest at this, but I’m gonna ask so I don’t upset you. Do you want a hug? Or a hand on your shoulder-“
Your arms were wrapped around him before he could finish his question, clinging to his waist and biting your face in his neck.
“WOAH there- well hey, sweetheart, there you are.” You could hear him smiling as he gently brought his hand to rub your back.
“I’m sorry. I- I’ve just had a shitty day at work and I’m worried about a lot of things and- I don’t want to take it out on you.” You were shaking, but he held you steadily.
“What kinda things are worrying you?” He asked.
And so you told him. In the comfort of his embrace you were able to somewhat coherently explain all the things that had been freaking you out. Velvette’s torture at work, your own moral dilemmas about your life on Earth, and you were just getting into your feelings about others using you when you felt Lucifer’s breath hitch.
He leaned away from you to look you in the eyes and gently put a finger to your chin.
“Honey, I want you to know that I know for a fact that the people here really care about you. Not because you’re an extra pair of hands, but because you’re you. You’re wonderful to be around. People like you.”
He looked at you with a warm smile and leaned towards you, giving you a small kiss on the forehead.
“I like you. I care about you because you’re worth caring about.”
You stared at him in awe, your mind finally at ease after such a chaotic day. Smiling, you leaned back into him to rest your head on his chest.
“Thank you, Luci.” You reached out and took one of his hands, holding it tightly in an effort to show him how grateful you truly were for his words of assurance.
He tightened his fingers around yours and grinned down at you.
“Always, love. Now, let’s get you on the bed, okay?”
You nodded and he gracefully picked you up, gently placing you on the bed. With a snap, you were in comfortable clothing with a warm blanket around you and plenty of soft pillows.
“You want me to hang out for a bit?” He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, clearly sleepy.
“If you don’t have anything else going on…” You offered, already half dozing off.
“Even if I did, I would love nothing more.” With an affectionate grin he curled up beside you, and you immediately went to lay your head back on his chest. As you drifted away, listening to the King of Hell’s heartbeat, you took a deep breath.
He was right. Things were gonna be okay.
You had friends.
You were loved.
598 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
Text
We're Getting Married Now?
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!LAPD!reader
Summary: When Tim finds out you need a fake boyfriend to take to your cousin's wedding, he steps up and offers to go with you. After a night in his arms, you learn that his "boyfriend act" isn't just an act.
Warnings: I referenced a few lines from The Rookie (no spoilers though), a few vague mentions of insecurities and rude family members (they apologize). lots and lots of fluff!! one bed trope?
Word Count: 4.3k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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When your phone rings on the way to work, you don’t expect to see your aunt’s name on the caller ID. 
“Hello?” you greet. 
“Hey, sweetheart. I was going through the seating chart for your cousin’s wedding and seemed to have misplaced your RSVP,” she explains. 
“I, uh, I didn’t get an invite. She’s getting married?”
“Of course. You lot aren’t getting any younger, as I’m sure you know, and when she met her fiancé, well, I think we all knew. Anyway, you say you didn’t get an invite? Must’ve gotten lost in the mail, those incompetent kids aren’t as reliable as they used to be. I suppose that explains your lack of congratulations, though, which I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear.”
“I bet,” you mumble before asking, “So what do you need from me? Sorry to interrupt, but I’m nearly to work.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I suppose the wedding planning is making me a touch scatter brained. All I need from you is a confirmation that you are attending. It’s at her fiancé’s family orchard, I’ll send you the address. Everyone is coming out Friday evening and the wedding is Sunday afternoon.”
“Uh, yeah, I have this weekend off. I may be a bit later on Friday, but I’ll be there.”
“And I’ll assume you’re still single, so no plus one. Although, sweetie, you really shouldn’t let this discourage you. I’m sure you have plenty going for you and the right man is out there somewhere,” she says, lowering her voice as pity laces every word. 
“Actually, I’ll be bringing my boyfriend. If there’s room for one more, of course.”
The words come out before you can stop them, and after you slam your gear shift up and set your brake, you grip your steering wheel with both hands. 
“Boyfriend? Well, good for you, sweetheart, I didn’t want to seem insensitive before, but your clock is ticking! I will put you down for two then. Oh, one more thing-“
“I’m actually at work and can’t be late. I’ll see you Friday,” you rush out before ending the call. 
Hitting the back of your head against the headrest, you wonder who you can ask on such short notice. Getting a fake boyfriend is entirely avoidable, of course. You’d have to tell another lie about him being sick or dumping you or call your aunt and explain that her constant jabs at your lacking love life pushed you to speak without thinking. 
“That would go well,” you murmur as you gather the strength to get out of your car. 
She’d probably say something like, “Well then he just wasn’t the one,” before telling everyone that you did something to get dumped, or she’d remind you that you’re running out of time, it’s practically too late, so you should stop trying. You don’t mind being single, but she rips you apart, finding a way to make it your fault for being too busy with work, unwilling to compromise, or “looking too chubby in red.” (Her words.)
As you walk into the station and change into your uniform, you are struck with the perfect idea. 
“Nolan!” you call, rushing to his side before he can enter roll call. “I need a favor.”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll do what I can,” he answers kindly. 
“Long story short I need a fake boyfriend to go to my cousin’s wedding or my aunt will expose me as a dirty rotten liar who can’t get a boyfriend.”
“Wow,” Nolan responds. “Does she really- never mind. When’s the wedding?”
“This weekend.”
“Bailey and I are going to San Diego to meet Henry for a few days. I’m so sorry, I’d help you if I could.”
“Yeah, no problem. Thanks anyway,” you tell Nolan while looking for someone else you can ask. “Aaron!”
Aaron turns in the doorway, stepping back toward you and Nolan with raised brows. 
“What’s up?” he asks. 
“I need a date, a fake boyfriend for a wedding this weekend.”
“I don’t do weddings.”
“Aaron, please,” you plead.
“Look, I’d love to help you, but my family’s got a big dinner thing this weekend and they rarely end well, so I’m booked.” He pats your arm and adds, “Hope you find someone who can help.”
You nod as he walks inside. Looking around the station, you realize your options are very limited. 
“Think Angela would let me borrow Wesley for a few days?” you ask Nolan. 
“Why don’t you just find someone to actually take as a date?”
“Because that’s the entire problem, Nolan. I can’t get a date.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
As you follow him into roll call, you whisper, “I’m going to have to ask Smitty.”
Nolan stifles a laugh, shaking his head as he takes his seat. You tune Wade out after receiving your assignment for the day, glancing around the room as you try to find someone else you can ask. Maybe you should just cancel, tell your aunt that you’re the one who got sick, and now neither you nor your boyfriend can make it. 
Standing in the bullpen, you have your aunt’s contact pulled up on your phone but can’t seem to press the call button. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“Sergeant Bradford,” Nolan says. “I need some advice.”
“I already don’t like this, but go ahead,” Tim replies, resting his hands against his belt. 
“If a fellow officer, a close friend, was going to cancel going to a family member’s wedding because she couldn’t find a fake boyfriend to keep her controlling aunt off her back, would you help her?”
Tim doesn’t answer, turning away from Nolan. As he walks toward the bullpen, Nolan raises a fist in victory, hoping it works out for you and Tim. It’s clear to everyone that you have feelings for each other, but neither of you seems eager to do anything about them. Maybe this is the push you need to take the next step. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim’s hand covers your phone screen before he takes it from you, holding it by his side. 
“You need a fake boyfriend?” he asks. 
“Who told you? ... Nolan, I should’ve known not to trust him and his big mouth.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“My cousin,” you answer, pursing your lips in confusion about why he’s interested. 
“The cousin from the aunt that manipulates and belittles you every time you see her?”
“I’m still sorry for calling you that day, I shouldn’t have. Just didn’t have anyone else to cry to.”
“She lied to you, told you things about yourself that couldn’t have been further from the truth. So, now that you have lied to her, what are you going to do about it?”
“Cancel,” you whisper. “If I can just press the button to call her.”
“I’ll call her,” Tim offers, raising your phone. “Or I can go with you.”
“Tim, I can’t ask you to do this- to lie for me and spend your weekend off at a wedding, around people you don’t know.”
“You’re not asking,” Tim reminds you. “Which one? I make a call, or I go with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Tim smiles while assuring, “We’re friends, and we’ve been on vacation together before. This is just like that.”
“I don’t want to go…”
“But you don’t want to deal with the grief you’ll get if you don’t. I get it, but I’ll help in any way I can.”
You nod, taking your phone from Tim. “Thank you.”
“When do we leave?”
“Friday night. The wedding’s Sunday.”
“Two days before? Why?”
“I don’t even want to think about that right now.”
Tim raises your right hand, pushing a bent paper clip over your finger as he promises, “I will make sure you survive this weekend.”
“And I… will apologize in advance.”
✯✯✯✯✯
When you get out of the shower Friday night and get dressed, all you can think about is the weekend ahead. If you or Tim get uncomfortable, you could put your relationship on the line to look like a happy couple in front of your family. 
Tim’s knock draws you from your thoughts, and when he takes your bag from you, you realize something: Tim already acts like your boyfriend, so he really is boyfriend material. Your crush on him is bound to be affected over the next 48 hours, but he agreed to this, so maybe there’s a chance he feels more than friendship, too. Shaking the idea from your head, you accept Tim’s help as you climb into the passenger seat of his truck. He waits until he’s on the freeway to ask you about the wedding and your family. 
“What’s the fiancé like?” he asks. 
“I haven’t met him. Didn’t even know they were getting married until a few days ago.”
Tim nods, laying his elbow on the center console and moving closer to you without thinking. 
“I- I want to go ahead and tell you that you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. My family can be a lot-“
“I’m not here for them. I’m spending the weekend with you, and nothing more. Remember that, okay? So, if you need an excuse, a buffer, anything you want or need, that’s me this weekend.”
“I can never repay you for this.”
“I’ll give you a call next time I need a wedding date,” Tim suggests. 
“Deal,” you reply with an easy smile. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Someone squeals your name, and Tim grips your hand when you flinch. 
“I’m so glad you made it!” the woman says, pulling you into a hug.
“Of course. And congratulations!” you reply. “Sorry about the invitation confusion.”
“Oh, no worries, I get it. Stuff happens. My mom said you were bringing your boyfriend?”
Tim steps forward, wrapping an arm around your waist as he offers his other hand. “I’m Tim, the boyfriend your mom mentioned.”
“Oh,” your cousin says, shaking his hand. She looks between you and Tim, and as you begin to expect a sarcastic comment, she says, “Nice to meet you, Tim.”
“That wasn’t so bad,” Tim whispers in your ear. 
“I guess I could’ve been overthinking it,” you admit. 
“You’re in chateau Sauvignon Blanc,” a man says, passing a key to Tim. “Follow the white path and you won’t miss it.”
“The chateaus are named after wine,” Tim muses. “Must be nice to be marrying into a family of nepotism.”
You laugh at him, and when he refuses to let you carry your bag to the chateau, you fall into easy conversation on the short walk. Entering, however, you stop in the doorway. 
“What’s wrong?” Tim asks quickly, stepping forward so his chest presses against your back. 
“Nothing, just- there’s only one bed in here,” you say quietly. 
“I think we can make it work. There’s always the floor if you want to treat your fake boyfriend like that,” Tim jokes, closing the door and tossing your bags on a nearby chair. 
“I- why’d you agree to come?” you ask him. 
“You needed a date.”
You don’t quite accept that. It’s not enough reason for someone as logical as Tim Bradford. You don’t have time to question him further, though, as you receive a text that dinner is being served in the main tasting room in just a few minutes. 
“Hey,” Tim says, laying his hands on your shoulders. “We’re two people on vacation together. It doesn’t have to be awkward.”
“Sorry. It’s just, this isn’t what I was expecting.”
“That’s okay, but we’re going to keep moving. No one knows me here, so I’m whatever-“
“I need you to be,” you repeat. “Thank you.”
Tim smiles, and you take your bag into the bathroom to get ready while he changes. When you exit, wearing your favorite outfit and hairstyle, Tim stands, offering both his hands. 
“You look stunning.”
“Clean up pretty nicely yourself, Mr. Bradford.”
“Oh, so you’re a flirty girlfriend?”
You roll your eyes, attempting to pull away from Tim. He tightens his hands around yours and pulls you into a hug, hooking one arm around you as he leads you back to the white path. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Sitting beside Tim, your hand stays in his until the food is served. So far, all of the attention has been on your cousin and her fiancé, and you’re more than happy to listen along to their chatter rather than talk yourself. 
“What about you two?” your grandfather asks. “How’d you meet?”
Tim moves his hand out of yours, patting above your knee as he answers, “We met at work; different divisions, but we joined forces for a narcotics bust and I just couldn’t get her off my mind, so I had to ask her out.”
“How long have you been together?” someone inquires. 
“5 years,” you and Tim say together. You add, “But we’ve only been serious for what? 6 months or so?”
“Since you finally agreed to my begging, you mean?” Tim asks, sending you a comforting smile. “Yeah, about that.”
“Cute,” your cousin comments before the conversation returns to her. 
You close your eyes and release a breath, leaning toward Tim when his hand covers yours again. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“How are we doing this?” You ask, standing at the side of the bed with your arms wrapped around your waist. 
“It’s a bed,” Tim says, blinking at you. “Seems pretty straightforward.”
“Well, yeah, but… what if I, like, snore more or something?”
“I’ll live. Just get in the bed.”
You crawl under the covers, murmuring, “Thought you were gonna call me boot there for a second.”
“I still may,” Tim responds as he turns the light off, lying beside you. “Is this okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, Tim.”
“No problem.”
✯✯✯✯✯
When you wake up, it’s a few minutes before dawn, and a strong arm is holding you against the mattress. When you try to move, Tim pulls you closer before tucking you against him as he relaxes again. 
“Friends on vacation,” you remember, pressing your cheek against his chest as you get comfortable. 
Suddenly, you remember you have to survive another night by his side. The idea makes you want to pull away, but his touch and heartbeat lull you back to sleep before you can. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“Your cousin is here,” Tim whispers, shaking you gently. “She wants to talk to you about dresses.”
“You’re a snuggler,” you mumble as Tim pulls you out of bed. 
“No one will ever believe you,” Tim says darkly. 
“Is she really here?”
“I wouldn’t lie about that. This isn’t a horror movie.”
Nodding, you pick up a change of clothes and move into the bathroom. Tim’s voice is muffled through the wall, but you can tell he’s being civil even as his patience wears thin. Straightening your outfit, you open the door and smile at your cousin and Tim.
“You’re wearing that?” she asks.
“You’re beautiful,” Tim says, smiling at you.
“What exactly are we doing?” you ask.
“I wanted to see the dress you’re planning to wear to the rehearsal tonight and the wedding and reception tomorrow. If you need something different, we can-“
“I won’t need different dresses,” you interrupt. “I like the ones I brought.”
“As do I,” Tim adds. “But I’ll leave you two to talk about dresses.” He stands, kissing your temple and pausing by your side to whisper, “Call if you need someone to save you.”
Smiling, you tell him to be careful. Your cousin waits until he leaves to sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to show the dresses you packed.
As you hold them up, you remember Tim's compliments this morning as you hide your smile at her surprised reaction. And his arm around you last night. He’s taking his fake boyfriend duties seriously, and you’re unsure if your feelings can survive another night beside him.
“They’re pretty,” your cousin says finally. “I have a few more things to do before the rehearsal this evening, but I’ll see you around.”
“Congratulations again,” you call, exiting the chateau behind her to look for Tim.
When you round a corner on the white path, you run directly into Tim. His arms come up to catch you, holding you against his chest as he raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“Did it go okay?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your spine.
“Yeah. She said the dresses were pretty, so that was unexpected.”
“Wait ‘til she sees them on you,” Tim replies. “Can’t imagine getting upstaged at my own wedding.”
“What do you want to do for the rest of the day? The rehearsal isn’t until 5 and then most of the wedding party is leaving for bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
“You could model the dresses.”
“Stop,” you plead, laughing as you press against Tim’s chest.
“It’s my duty as your boyfriend.”
“I knew I should have asked Smitty.”
Tim narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t make me think about that.”
✯✯✯✯✯
“Where do you think the red path goes?” you ask.
“Are you asking me on a treasure hunt date?” Tim replies.
“Maybe. Care to follow our own version of the yellow brick road? See if you can find your usual personality on the way back to Kansas?”
“You don’t like my new personality? The one I created just for you?”
“Tim,” you warn. “Red path, yes or no?”
Tim takes your hand, leading you out of the chateau and back toward his truck before turning onto the other path.
“If we find a crime scene or something,” you begin.
“What?” Tim interrupts dramatically.
“If we find something unexpected, what then?”
“Wait,” Tim calls, gently pulling you back toward him. “What is this about?”
Glancing down, you say, “Last night.”
“Look, if I made you uncomfortable-“
“No, not at all. The, uh, the unexpected part was how much I liked it,” you admit quietly.
Tim taps his knuckle lightly against your chin, smiling as you raise your head to look at him.
“Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I don’t want to ruin anything. We’re friends, and I care about you, but this weekend could ruin everything if I make one wrong move.”
“You said it yourself, we’re friends, and we’ve been friends for years. Walking on eggshells around me all weekend is unnecessary, not to mention more dangerous than just telling me you like being cuddled.”
“You like being cuddled.”
“Never say that aloud again.”
You chuckle, taking Tim’s hand as you begin walking again. After a few minutes of walking in silence, you stop.
“The red path looks exactly like the white path,” you point out.
“Not true. The red path is red, and the white is white.”
“Wow. You should have been a detective.”
“Are we on the same page?” Tim murmurs.
“Yeah, I’ll be myself with you this weekend. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Nerd.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, Dorothy.”
You roll your eyes, walking away from Tim. He laughs before taking a few long steps to catch up with you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Tim apologizes, and you lean against him, trying to remember what he said about being honest.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Hi, sweetheart,” your aunt greets you as you enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner. “You are at table 2, and your boyfriend is at table 9.”
“You didn’t seat us together?” you ask.
“Well, it was late notice, learning you were bringing a plus one. Sorry.”
“Uh, okay. Thanks.”
Tim lays his hand on your lower back, leading you to your table.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, reaching over the table before leaving.
You watch him walk to his table, switching a nameplate before returning to your side. He sets his nameplate on the seat beside you, sighing as he sits.
“Have I told you recently that you’re the best?”
“You don’t have to, I know,” Tim answers smugly.
“What do you want to do when this is over?”
“Planning ahead, aren’t we?” Tim smiles as he leans toward you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Exiting the venue, you take Tim’s hand, wrapping your other hand around his forearm as you walk beside him. He tugs you closer, keeping you close until you’re back in your chateau. After changing quickly and washing your face, you collapse onto the bed.
“I thought my family was tiring,” Tim jokes.
“Still up for cud- lying closely on the same piece of furniture?” you correct.
Tim leans over you, smiling as he says, “Since you asked so nicely.”
You stare at the ceiling until Tim returns and pulls you into his side as he lays beside you. Rolling against him, pressing your ear to his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, you accept that things are changing.
“I don’t think we can go back to how things were before,” you mutter.
“Me neither,” Tim agrees softly, moving his hand to your upper back.
“Did I ruin everything by letting you come with me?”
Tim rolls onto his side, facing you rather than holding you.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow? Does everything get awkward after the wedding?”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Tim answers. “I offered to come because it was an opening to spend time with you.”
“But-“
“We’re friends, right? That’s what we say but that’s not how it feels.”
“How does it feel?” you whisper.
“Like more. Tell me you’ve been pretending, and I’ll let this go, but nothing I’ve said this weekend has been a lie or an act.”
“I have feelings for you,” you confess. “I have for years, but I didn’t know how to tell you or what you’d think. So…”
“We both did. Stay quiet to preserve a friendship that could have been much more.”
Inhaling deeply, you move forward, closing the distance between you and Tim.
“You asked what happens after the wedding,” Tim says. “I’d like to keep going from here.”
“I’d like that too.”
Tim smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he rolls over, pulling you with him. You laugh against him, falling silent when you look into his eyes.
“Can I-“ Tim begins.
“Kiss me,” you demand.
Tim cups your cheeks as he pulls you down against him, kissing you softly. You slide your arms over his chest, holding his jaw as you reciprocate his every move. Tim’s arm tightens around your waist before someone knocks on the door.
Pulling away, you sigh before getting out of bed, cracking the door open to see who it is.
“Hi,” you greet, surprised to see your aunt outside.
“I moved your seats for the wedding and reception,” she tells you. “Since you seem inseparable.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry for earlier, and for interrupting. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
After you close the door, you press your hand against it and take a few breaths, surprised by her apologies.
“Are you okay?” Tim asks, sitting up as he watches you.
Walking back to his side, you lie down and move against him, smiling as you answer, “I’m great.”
Tim holds you close, both of you falling asleep on the same side of the oversized bed. When you wake up the following morning, you chuckle at the sight of it, with one side still made after a night in Tim’s arms.
✯✯✯✯✯
“You’ve been in there for a while,” Tim calls, tapping his knuckles against the bathroom door.
“Maybe she was right,” you answer. “I mean, the dress looked great on the mannequin, but…”
“Open the door,” Tim demands.
“No.”
“I will kick it down. You know I can.”
You pull the door open before he can do anything, and Tim’s eyes widen when he sees you.
“You look…”
“I know.”
“Perfect.”
Furrowing your brows, you look down at the dress.
“How do you feel?” Tim asks. “In the outfit, in general?”
 “I feel good, really good.”
“Well, you look even better. Don’t let whatever someone said make you think otherwise. And I was right.”
“About?”
“You’re gonna look better than the bride.”
Tim’s smile, accompanied by his kind words, makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly. Your relationship with him has changed this weekend, and you’re still giddy because you can tell him you love him whenever you want.
“I love you,” you say against his suit.
Tim pulls back quickly, looking into your eyes as he asks you to repeat it. After you do, he smiles and replies, “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”
“We’re going to be late,” you remind him, narrowly dodging a kiss.
Shaking his head, Tim offers his arm, keeping you close as you walk to the wedding venue entrance. Finding your seats, you sit beside Tim, pulling one of his hands into your lap as you look at him.
“Those bouquets are really bright,” you say.
“Our wedding will be much better,” Tim agrees.
“We’re getting married now?” you ask, smiling.
Tim looks at you from the corner of his eye, shrugging as he says, “Why not?”
“I love you, Tim Bradford.”
“Thank you for letting me be your boyfriend this weekend,” he replies. “I love you.”
“Oh, you’re going to be my boyfriend for a lot longer than this weekend.”
“And after that?” Tim asks, interlacing his fingers with yours.
“That part is up to you, I think.”
You stand, keeping your hand in Tim’s as the wedding procession begins.
“Then, yes, we’re getting married,” Tim whispers. “But it will be perfect.”
Keeping your attention on one another throughout the ceremony, you fall in love with Tim again. After the bride and groom walk down the aisle together, you pull the paper clip ring from your dress pocket. Tim stands, and when he turns to you, you raise it.
“Tim Bradford, will you be my boyfriend?”
Tim chuckles, pulling you up to kiss you before you slide the ring onto his finger. He had nearly forgotten about giving it to you before leaving the station but seeing it on his finger makes him even more eager to marry you someday.
374 notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!
i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!
-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)
hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k
cw implied drug use
You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?" 
You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired." 
"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done." 
You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today? 
"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee." 
"That's okay, I can make it." 
His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible. 
As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today." 
"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were. 
"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you. 
It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?" 
She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly. 
You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)
"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer." 
No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do. 
There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen. 
"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk. 
"Come and sit with me for a bit." 
You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat. 
You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary." 
"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did." 
"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon. 
Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it." 
"It's embarrassing–" 
"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too." 
"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask. 
"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me." 
"I'm not trying to." 
"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you." 
"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek. 
"You're squeezing me." 
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder. 
"Morgan, she knows you know." 
"Know what?" 
"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks. 
"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous." 
730 notes · View notes
emeraldelysian · 4 months
Text
Choi San ✧ The Jealousy Game
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Pairing: Choi San x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut
Synopsis: "The Jealousy Game." A game in which you and your boyfriend Choi San flirt with other people to see who will break first. However, when San missteps on a day when you just want his love and attention, he realizes that he has to find a way to make it up to you.
Wordcount: 1.8K
Warnings: Reader has F. Anatomy; Make-Up Sex, Wall Sex, Kitchen Sex, Oral (F. Receiving); Stand and Carry Position; Kind of exhibitionist?; Protected (Wrap it before you tap it)
Note: Hi loves, long time no see!! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write that much this year, it's been a lot of ups and downs. But I wanted to get one more story out at least before the end of the year. I hope you all enjoy!!
♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎
MDNI, 18+ CONTENT
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You and Choi San had a peculiar way of finding amusement. Whenever you both attended parties, you would engage in a wild game of jealousy, each one flirting with other people, determined to see who would break first. It was a wicked dance of passion and insecurity, the push and pull of emotions that heightened the intensity of your connection.
But on this particular day, a cloud of vulnerability loomed over you, casting a shadow on your usually confident demeanor.
The sun set, casting a warm golden glow over the garden where the party was held. The air smelled of blooming roses and anticipation, mingling with the lively chatter and tinkling glasses. As always, Choi San's eyes danced mischievously, a glint of excitement lighting them up. You shared a knowing smile, acknowledging the game that was about to commence.
To an outsider, it may have seemed as though you both walked through the crowd with poise and charm, effortlessly captivated by your temporary flings. Yet beneath your facade of indifference, a subtle undercurrent of worry gnawed away at your heart. Doubt seeped into your thoughts, staining them with unease.
'Why does San seem so distant today? Is it my fault?' Questions like these peppered your mind, leaving you feeling untethered in a sea of people.
The music began, its rhythmic pulse guiding the fluid movements of the crowd. Your gaze locked with San's, feeling an electric pull that only the two of you could understand. A woman with flowing auburn hair approached, her smile captivating him instantly. You observed with a clenched chest as she whispered something in San's ear, her laughter filling the air like a sweet melody. They moved together, their bodies in tune with the vibrant melody that filled the atmosphere.
Watching San dance with the woman sent a surge of unfamiliar emotions coursing through your veins. Jealousy clawed at your chest, its tendrils wrapping around your heart, squeezing with a relentless grasp. Doubt echoed in your mind, causing you to question your own self-worth. The laughter that had once brightened your eyes dimmed, replaced by a flicker of insecurity. You desperately craved his love and attention, yet it felt as though the world around you had receded, leaving you stranded upon an island of your own apprehension.
Eventually, the song came to an end, and San and the woman parted ways. You couldn't help but feel hurt by his behavior, and rather than taking a step back from the noise. He turned towards you just as you turned away. His stormy eyes betrayed a hint of remorse as he watched you walk away from the party, into the house.
Feeling a mix of emotions, you went inside the house to seek solace. As you closed the door behind you, you desperately tried to stop yourself from overthinking as you grabbed yourself a glass of water, but the thoughts continued to swirl around in your head. The hurt from San's behavior pierced deep, and you couldn't help but question where things went wrong. The sound of the party outside seemed distant now, but it wasn't enough to break you away from the incessant thoughts that plagued your mind. Just as you were drowning in a sea of self-doubt, a gentle knock at the door startled you.
It was San. He softly gazed at your lost expression, closing the door behind him as he entered the house.
As he reached out to touch your trembling hand, his voice was a tender caress against your ear, "I'm sorry, love. I've taken the game too far today. I didn't realize how much I hurt you, how vulnerable you've been feeling."
Tentatively, you met his gaze, seeing the genuine concern etched in each of his features. In that moment, the walls you had carefully constructed to protect yourself began to crumble. "I just needed you, San," you whispered, your voice threaded with aching vulnerability.
His arms wrapped around your trembling frame, pulling you into an embrace where all the pain and insecurity dissolved. He tenderly kissed you. With each gentle touch held his vow to mend the wounds he had unintentionally inflicted upon your heart. In that embrace, you realized that love is not a game to be played, but a tender dance where trust and understanding are the true partners.
"Please let me make it up to you," he whispered softly as he pulled away.
Your gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes before you nodded and kissed him again, soft lips smiling into each other.
He pushed you softly against the wall, deepening the kisses between you both.
Looking into your eyes, your hand gracefully past his belt buckle and into the intimate space of his cotton briefs. He was hard and ready, and you moved it between your fingers slowly, savoring his obvious eagerness. Suddenly, his hands were tenderly gripping your wrists, raising them above your head.
"Please don't move," he whispered as he lowered himself onto his knees. With his face directly between your legs, he unhurriedly unclasped the button on your jeans, undid the zipper, and meticulously slid your pants off.
His lips were just an inch away from your black silk panties. He traced your inner thigh with gentle, delicate kisses. He then moved his mouth to your stomach, nibbling at the bottom of your cashmere sweater. As he rose again, he skillfully used only his teeth to lift up the fabric.
You could feel the warmth of his breath hovering over your breasts. The anticipation and desire within you grew as he started to tease you.
In that moment, all the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you throughout the night melted away. The game of jealousy, once an exhilarating dance, now seemed trivial in comparison to the deep connection you both cherished. What had begun as a test of emotions had ultimately revealed the depth of your love and the fragility of your hearts.
"God I love you so much."
His face popped up from between your legs. His lips glistened with the juices of your almost-orgasm while your legs still trembled from his tongue’s teasing.
He gently rubbed his finger along your clit, rousing you back to reality. Your entire body was on high alert. You hadn’t made it to the bed, or even to the sofa. Instead, you both leaned against the wall completely naked by the kitchen table, clothes strewn about haphazardly.
Let’s just say that if any of the partygoers decided to come inside, they would have gotten quite the show.
You couldn’t help but admire the grin on his face and the excitement in his eyes as he stared and stared into you. His hands continued to work their magic, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him to take in more of me.
“I love you too.” The words came out as two moans. As his fingers slipped and dipped inside of me, the pleasure continued to build, kickstarting the shaking and gasping again.
“I could live down here forever," he moaned into you.
“I wish you could, baby.” You tugged on his locks and brought his face towards you. You could taste yourself, sweet and pungent, on his lips. You broke apart and you caught his eyes with yours, mirroring his desire. It was clear that the need you felt to cherish this moment together was mutual.
You wrapped your arms around each other, your bodies heaving towards one another like magnets. The heat from his skin sent shivers down your spine as you feeling of him pressing into you excited you. You kissed for what seemed like an eternity, hands gently grazing skin, tongues tenderly touching - losing yourselves in each other. It was a moment of softness, of utmost sincerity.
But you needed him inside you before you risked being interrupted.
“I’ll be right back,” You said. You sauntered over to your purse that had been forgotten on the kitchen counter where you kept the condoms.
“You're so beautiful,” he groaned.
You turned around to see him watching your every nude move, leaning against the wall in awe. You grabbed the condom from your purse and came back over to him. He took the condom and quickly put in on. He held your hips steadily as he entered you.
You could feel him all the way to your belly button. You screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep. The movement pushed your body all the way forward, causing a consistent banging on the wall you were leaning against. He placed his palms on your ass as he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around him as he bounces you up and down. You take more and more of him as he brands your body with his hands.
"I think everyone outside is going to hear us if you keep moaning like that." His words came out low and throaty.
Your breath was shallow as you got closer to reaching your limit. Nothing existed outside of this moment - the sensation of his hands holding you up, how deeply satisfied this closeness made you feel. You kissed him, holding his mouth on yours for a long time. You breathed in his breaths as you began to tremble and gasp, your orgasms melting into each other, ecstasy swimming through your veins as you finished together.
You had never experienced anything like that before, that insane and electric synchrony. Your limbs vibrated in the fading exhilaration. You leaned back against the fall as he gently let you down. Your knees are weak as you slip down to sit. He kneels down with you, as you both exhale slowly and deeply.
You both sat there catching your breath as you looked out the glass door to the back. From your viewpoint, you could only see the trees as they were cast with the overwhelmingly beautiful pink and purple tie-dyed afternoon sky. People were still laughing and enjoying themselves outside, and you were grateful that you guys had been just shy of their viewpoint into the house.
You turned towards San who had opted to gaze at you isntead of the world outside. He moved his hand to brush some of the hair out of your face.
"Listen," he began, his tone softer once again, dripping with sincerity. "Please, believe me when I say that despite everything, my heart has always been yours. These games were never about finding someone else; they were about making sure you were the one who wanted me."
Words escaped you, overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions coursing through your veins. You both were in the wrong, having chosen to play a game that would play on both of your insecurities. But you squeezed his hand, conveying volumes in that simple gesture. The truth was, despite the hurt you both had caused through these game, your love for eachother remained unshaken.
You gently kissed him once more before giving him a smile, "Let's just agree not to play that silly game anymore and get dressed, okay?"
He nodded and smiled, a flicker of hope now dancing within the depths of his eyes.
"From this moment forward, there will be no more games, no more tests. Just you and me, fighting for our love."
443 notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 11 months
Text
𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell
genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni
word count: 7.2k
summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.
warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging
a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️‍🔥
**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜
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You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.  
The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen. 
While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her? 
Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside. 
“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” 
“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?” 
“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?” 
“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?” 
As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.
“His name is Oberyn.” 
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For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap. 
“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?” 
“Or something.” 
You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”
“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.” 
“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke. 
“We’re both polyamorous.” 
“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.” 
She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.” 
“Is he nice to you?” 
You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything. 
Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze. 
“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.” 
“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.” 
“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.” 
“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.” 
“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment. 
“Ah, that must be Oberyn.” 
Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately. 
With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat. 
No matter how good she looks. 
You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb. 
A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look. 
While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly. 
“Likewise.” 
Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria. 
“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.” 
You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand. 
“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.” 
A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”
You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look. 
“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts. 
You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."
Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.
A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body. 
"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.” 
“You’re a professor?” 
He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls." 
His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him. 
Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply. 
“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.” 
His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer. 
Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss. 
You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more. 
“Take off your clothes.” 
Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?” 
That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.” 
“She. . . does?” 
“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.” 
And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to. 
You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger? 
When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties. 
“Oberyn. . .” 
You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs. 
Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips. 
“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?” 
Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.” 
“You think I’m beautiful?” 
“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?” 
You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both. 
“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.” 
“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better. 
Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.
“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.” 
“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. “Do you, little one?” 
You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck. 
“Words, love.” Ellaria commands. 
“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.” 
Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds. 
Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head. 
Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.” 
“You saw that?” 
“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.” 
You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears. 
He feels. . . big. 
“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—
He bites you. 
With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving. 
“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?” 
“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.” 
Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips. 
Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more. 
When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states. 
With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her. 
“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw. 
“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.” 
Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.” 
Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.” 
“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.” 
“I know, baby. I know.” 
Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?” 
“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.” 
“Ellaria!”  
“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.” 
“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?” 
“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.” 
Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling. 
“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead. 
Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.
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You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. 
Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape. 
You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.
“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.” 
“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?” 
“Yes.” 
Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more. 
When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles. 
You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh. 
“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.” 
If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?” 
Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.  
Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling. 
“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.” 
“You don’t think I’m boring?” 
“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.” 
When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria. 
Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip. 
“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear. 
An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?” 
“Only slightly.” 
She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze. 
“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.” 
You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.” 
With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs. 
“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.” 
It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye. 
She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock. 
“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.” 
The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away. 
“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him. 
“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.” 
Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper. 
You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress. 
Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses. 
“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.” 
“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers. 
He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat. 
“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?” 
Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard. 
Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in. 
“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.” 
Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her. 
His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded. 
“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse. 
Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.” 
“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess. 
“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass. 
You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind. 
Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?” 
Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.” 
“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck. 
“Green,” you say with a whimper. 
Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently.  She hums with approval. 
“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn. 
“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.” 
You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick. 
Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria. 
It’s a beautiful mess. 
You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once. 
Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth. 
Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well. 
Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens. 
You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure. 
“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”
fuckfuckfuck 
The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him. 
“You like that?” 
Shit, he noticed. 
“I—I—” 
He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue. 
“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.” 
Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.” 
“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you. 
Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn. 
Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet. 
“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.” 
You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?” 
“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.” 
Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over. 
It doesn’t take you long after that. 
Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing. 
“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” 
Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria. 
She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick. 
You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?” 
“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.” 
When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression. 
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You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere. 
“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination. 
“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching. 
Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth. 
He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs. 
“It’ll be over soon.” 
The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of.  And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so. 
They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache. 
“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.” 
The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.” 
You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.” 
“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.” 
“Is it really?” you ask. 
Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.” 
Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.” 
“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.” 
As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will. 
1K notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 1 year
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just horrifically bombed a math test so… peter comforting reader after failing a test but accidentally making her feel really stupid?
don't worry bestie, as somone several years out of high school, and a college dropout, grades really don't matter in the grand sceme of things. my testing has never once affected my life, but me (and peter) believe in you!
“C’mon, gimme a kiss.” 
Normally kissing Peter Parker would snap you out of any kind of upsetting mood, however today nothing felt like it could get you out of your funk, and nothing could; not even the escape of sighing into your boyfriend's mouth. 
You also weren’t one to turn down a kiss, so when he pressed a kiss to your mouth upside down, your head laying on his lap, his neck bent to kiss you, you still enjoyed it but it couldn’t wipe the frown from your mouth. 
“Not even a Peter kiss can help? You must be really upset.” 
You give him a big frown, his thumb rubs between your eyebrows. 
“Tell me, baby.” His words are a whisper. 
With a groan you sit up and stretch over the bed to grab your backpack, Peter takes this time to appreciate the view and smack down your ass, you whimper a ‘heyy,’ before grabbing a paper and shuffling back to him. 
“Here, look at my failures and dump the dummy.” 
Peter snatched the paper with a grumpy face, a sympathetic frown takes front when he sees the grade circled on top. 
“Oh, baby.” 
You take it as patronizing. 
You rip the paper from his hands, it tears at the edges. “Nevermind, Peter. My fault for thinking you would have some form of sympathy, I forgot I was talking to the genius of Midtown.” Peter’s hands chase you, frantic, “No, no, no! I wasn’t being mean, baby! I swear I wasn’t being mean, c’mere, lemme see it.” You look him up and down wearily, he seems authentic, you hand it over one more time.
Peter looks over the test, front and back, flipping it multiple times to line up numbers. He looks your way a few times and back at the sheet, he’s trying to figure out how to say what you did wrong without you thinking he thinks you’re an idiot. 
Finally he pats the space next to him, you slink over on your knees, the sheets scrunching around your pants. His left hand holds your worksheet, his right is resting on your thigh. “You made a common mistake, most people get it wrong, no biggie.” You lean against his arm, “show me, please.” 
Peter grabs a pen and starts circling your missteps and rewrites the formula, he runs it through one more time. “And I just multiply that for the answer?” Peter was really pretty when he was explaining things to you, most of the time you were checked out, blissfully blinking at each word curled around his lips; you were trying to piece together what he was saying.  “Correctomundo, babe.” 
“Ew, don’t say that.” 
Peter shoulder checked you, “disrespect me now but without me you’d be failing every class.” 
He laughed. Peter laughed, like what he said was funny. Like he didn’t understand how that made you feel, not like you just basically hinted that your biggest insecurity was being dumber than him. 
Fine, if he thinks you can’t pass without him, you’ll show him you can. 
You fake a laugh with him, usually he can catch it. This time he doesn’t. You put away the test after that, not that you’ll tell him but you’ll ask for a retest, and pass, and then not tell Peter so he doesn’t feel like he can take the credit. 
—----------------------------------
Peter is, what he thinks, jealous for the first time in his life. 
Well, he’s been jealous before. Like when Ned got that new monitor for his gaming setup, or when MJ was able to solve a rubik's cube in under a minute. Even that one time when Ashley Mulligan, a third grader, cheated off his test and that made her win star student of the week. 
But he’s never been jealous before in his relationship with you, he’s never felt the need to. But after you spent so much time with Jeremy, he can’t even think of his name without souring, he can’t help the bubble forming in his gut. 
“I really don’t mind helping you out, baby! I even cleared the desk for you!” Peter’s been grasping at straws for you to study with him, he’s always loved the extra time with you, and you actually learned from him and he feels like he helpt, and he loves helping you, he feels needed. 
Maybe you felt like you didn’t have enough space? 
You check to make sure everything is in your bag, “It’s not a problem, I don’t want to keep J waiting.” 
J. 
J.
She has a fucking nickname for J. 
“J?” 
You tilt your head like a dog, “Jeremy?” 
Peter scoffs, his arms cross defensively. “Oh, we’re on nickname basis with this dude?” 
“This dude,” you air quote, “is helping me with school.” 
Peter runs a hovering hand down his body, “so was this dude!” 
You understand now, he’s jealous and you switching up on him really hurt his feelings. But he did too, and if he thinks it was funny then so do you. 
“He just understands me better.” 
Peter feels like he’s been shot, his head is underwater. The one thing he thought he had, the thing he thought he was the best at, wasn’t good enough for you anymore. He doesn’t know when you started to feel this way, he’s only ever tried to help you and he thought he was doing it well, did he misread the signs? 
“Oh, okay.” 
Does he have something to worry about? 
You feel bad, he looks upset. But maybe you’re too dumb to read it well.
“Okay? I’ll call you on my way home.” 
Peter’s smile didn’t match his eyes. 
—-----------------------
Peter flopped on the couch next to his aunt. 
May looked to her side at her nephew and continued watching ID TV, Peter sighs loudly, May speaks without breaking eye contact on the screen. “It’s always the husband, watch it be the husband.” Peter sighs again loudly, May again talks, “everytime I watch these I always expect a twist and guess what? It’s the husband.” For the third time Peter sighs, this time May lets one out of her own and raises the remote to pause the channel. 
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong, Peter?” 
Pouty lips mumble words, his fingers play with the fringe on a throw pillow. 
“Y/N’s gonna break up with me.” 
May thinks her eyes are going to pop out of her head, “what?!” 
Peter nods like it can’t be true, but it is. “Yup. So she can be with this guy, ‘J,’’ he uses air quotes, “she has a nickname for him now.” 
Her eyebrows furrow, “what’s his name?” 
Peter mocks a high pitched tone, “Jeremy.” 
May snorts, “that’s a shit name, don’t worry.” 
“My name is a euphemism for penis.” 
May waves her hand, “when did she start hanging around him?” 
Peter shrugs, “a few weeks ago. Apparently they only study together.” 
This bothers him a whole lot more than he’s saying but May can pick up on it, she always can. 
“I thought she only studied with you?” 
“So did I.” 
May hums, “any idea why she might?” 
“She failed a math test and she thought I was going to call her dumb, but I never have!” 
A gentle smile, “Pete, honey. Do you think it’s possible she feels intimidated by you? You’re smart, and you have a good heart but when you’re already embarrassed for flunking and you have a super smart boyfriend over your shoulder who you know thinks it’s childs math, you start to feel intimidated.” 
Peter deflates, “but I’ve never made her feel inferior, and I don’t think of her as any less! Math is hard, you have to be exact, I know it can be hard! Everyone thinks Peter’s a genius, but Peter gets stuck on problems too!” 
May tilts her head, he’s proved her point. “Does she know that?” 
You’ve never seen him struggle but he’s watched you do it a million times. He doesn’t think you’re stupid or below him in any way, everyone has different strengths, yours isn’t math and that’s perfectly okay. Maybe if he shows you that he’s not some all knowing mathematician you’d feel less threatened. 
Peter looks over at the TV, then at May. 
“It’s the husband, right?” 
May clicks play, “oh, totally.” 
—--------------------------------
Peter spun in his desk chair, a one eighty to face you. 
He had almost forgotten. 
“How’d you do on your test?” 
You snap your neck up to see his face, he looks excited. It’s hard feeling upset when he only wants you to succeed, even when he’s not the one teaching you. 
“I got a B.” 
Peter rolls his eyes and huffs, “well, I would've gotten you an A, but I’m sure Jeremy is just fine.” 
You blink, “he is, thanks,” you go back to reading, Peter decides it’s time for a heart to heart. He comes to find you on his bed, rolling until his knees hit yours. Peter’s fingers tap on your knees getting your attention. 
“Baby, I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 
You freeze, “nothing’s wrong.” 
His fingers squeeze your knees, “don’t lie, it doesn’t look cute on you.” 
Peter reaches for your face, his hands cup the sides and forces you to look at him. Your lips are slightly squashed from his placement, you can’t avoid him now. 
His voice comes out as a delicate whisper, he’s begging for the truth. “Be honest, did I make you feel dumb?” Peter feels your cheeks warm under his touch, your eyes dart around the room, anywhere but his face. “Baby?” Your eyes close, you can’t cry, not now. 
“Oh, c’mon, baby. No crying, I’m the one that made you feel like a dummy.” 
Your silence was answer enough, “hey, look at me,” he taps against your cheeks until you blink them open. His smile made you feel safe. 
“I’m sorry. I promise you baby, there is nothing, shy of getting yourself hurt, that could make me think you’re dumb. Anything after algebra is useless math anyways, I just do it to keep my ego in check.” He smiles when you snort, “And if I did or said something to make you think otherwise then I’m sorry, but I really, really hate you’re getting help from another dude with a nickname.” 
Your words are jumbled because of his hands, “you said I’d fail every class without your help.” 
Peter frowns, “fuck, that’s mean.” His head shakes disapprovingly, “I didn’t mean it, I don’t even remember that, baby. I swear, it was just a shitty joke.” 
“It might’ve been a joke but it really hurt my feelings.” Peter moves his right hand to brush some hair behind your ear, “I know I did, you had to outsource another man.” You smack his wrist away, “are you actually sorry or do you just feel threatened?” 
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t pleasing you and you had to find someone who could, I can’t blame you for that.” 
You groan, “you’re impossible.” 
Peter gets serious again, when the moment gets too much he can always break the tension for a second. “Hey, I mean it. I’m sorry, it was a stupid thing to say and I really, really miss having you over. And I promise if you ever feel that way again, let me know and I’ll dial it back. Sometimes I even get ahead of myself.” 
You push your forehead against his and pull back, “it’s okay, I didn’t tell you so it’s not your fault you didn’t know.” 
Peter holds his breath, “does this mean Jeremy fucks off now?” 
You can’t help the laugh that tumbles, “yes, Jeremy can fuck off now.” 
“Good.” Peter’s hand pulls you in, right before you connect you grab a hand at his shoulder and clench the fabric as he settles his mouth against yours. He tries to pull away but you hold him there, just a moment longer. 
“I wanna show you something.” 
You’re in a post kiss haze, you’d say yes to anything he wants right now. He kicks his feet off the floor and it sends the chair back to his desk, his hands digging through his drawers. Peter finally untucks a leather notebook from the back of a drawer, you’ve never seen it before, and you’ve been together for a while. 
Consider your interest peaked. 
Peter pats his thigh, an invitation to a seat. Who are you to ignore the call? 
His left arm loops around your waist when you sit. 
“This notebook holds all my dirty little secrets, wanna see?” Peter chuckles at your amusement, your head bobbles with your nod, he pinches your side, you lean into his body to escape his fingers. 
“Contrary to popular belief, Peter Parker, the thoughtless, no effort, mega genius who knows everything, does not know everything. And I’m definitely not always perfect on the first try, most of the time I’m just lucky.” 
You tried to question where this was going, how did it have any connection to a journal? 
He pushes it in front of you. 
“Open.” 
Your fingers twitch, you open the front cover, it creaks. The inside page is empty, no ‘this journal belongs to,’ no name, no number, nothing. The next page is full of notes, cursive letters you’d need a moment to decipher, circled markings and animated question marks. 
The next page had numbers all over it, it bled into the opposite page. Numbers written over and over and over, each one crossed out, arrows to move numbers around, swapping patterns and numbers. Frustrated scribbles that broke through the page behind it when you turned. 
The same combination of numbers jumbled on the page, now a string of ‘fuck’s’ gradually got bigger in the collums of the page, finally a number and equestion was circled in bright red three times. You flipped through seven more pages, each one riddled with most of the same math patterns, some of them were with spanish triple underlined with a ‘dumb fuck,’ written in the corner, it drew your lip down, he wasn’t allowed to think of himself that way. 
Peter wasn’t perfect. He struggled with things too, and he wasn’t always right. Sometimes he had to get through thirty possibilities until he found one that worked, other times he just couldn’t remember that damn word. He had just shown you an incredibly private thing in his life, something that you knew he’d never planned to show someone. Something that showed the human in him, he wasn’t so superb all the time. 
“Math is fucking hard sometimes.” 
Peter was nervous, your Peter was nervous that you saw that. You saw his breakdowns and frustrations and negative self talk. He’s glad you stopped when you did, the next section was AP probability and statistics, and if you saw the things he said about himself then? You’d have him committed. 
You blow air from your mouth, “tell me about it, champ.” 
His fingers tickled along your hips, your stomach tightened with butterflies and pulses when his hands sneaked under your t-shirt and layed above your beltline. “Why’d you never show me before?” 
Peter places a kiss on your arm, “it’s embarrassing.” 
You scoff and turn to him with fervor, “it’s not! I don’t think it’s embarrassing, and I don’t think you’re dumb at all! I’d never judge you for that, petey. Math is fucking hard sometimes, you’re right! But no, not embarrassing and definitely not a dumb fuck, please never call yourself that, I’d have to fight you and I don’t want to actually embarrass you.” 
Peter tries to stop the growing grin, he has to bite his lip, the irony is sticky sweet to him. You wait for a response, his amusement both aggravating and confusing you. After a moment in silence and staring at his smug grin you connect the dots. 
“Oh, fuck. It’s a ditto, moment, huh?”   
He just nods happily. 
1K notes · View notes
bemysinphony · 7 months
Text
My pretty girl
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pairing: txt yeonjun x f!reader
genre: os, au, (very sweet) smut
summary: you're working on your insecurities about your body and your boyfriend has been playing a key role in it, helping in making you feel loved, comfortable, and grateful most of all.
warnings under the cut!
warnings: reader is insecure about her body – particularly her thighs, yj's lips have a central role in this 🤚, cunnilingus (ofc), fingering, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, love), praising – yj's has a praising kink (ofc), both reader and yj's love language is words of affirmation <3
word count: 1,5k
notes: guess who's back with a fic!! unbelievable i know 🙃 this is very sweet and soft as always but also self-indulgent and vulnerable..where's my partner that's gonna love me, desire me and cherish me like yeonjun does with y/n?! 😓hope you enjoy <3
just a quick disclaimer that the third picture in the moodboard above is not the most fitting for reader's body type but it's the only one i could find that almost perfectly represented the image in my mind while i was writing, so i went for it 🙏
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Your hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down until he sits on the edge of the bed. He immediately spreads his legs to make room for you and his hands caress your hips inviting you in. You take the opportunity instead to bring your knee to his crotch, applying a slight pressure. Slight, but enough to make him delightfully groan for you.
"I love your sounds" you whisper, teasingly tracing his collarbones with your fingertips, your other hand resting on his thigh to keep you balanced as you lean over him.
He's trying to calm down his already labored breath, his hungry gaze on your mouth further confirming his desires. His left hand reaches for your face, bringing you closer to him again. "You and your gorgeous lips...", with his thumb he brushes the skin.
"Yours are definitely prettier than mine" your eyebrows furrow, "I've nerver saw a man with lips this pretty in my life" you insist, caressing them too with the tips of your fingers, bewitched by their natural color and puffyness.
He blushes, even the tips of his ears are turning red. He hopes that the almost darkness of the room hides it but, as soon as your smile gets wider, he knows you definitely noticed. It's not his fault he loves praise so much, he really can't help it, it makes the butterflies in his stomach turn into a rousing tornado.
"Well, I don't agree with your first statement... but it feels good knowing you think that." He doesn't leave you time to complain, finally capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss.
Your hands slide up to his face, fingers playing with his velvety lobes turning him on even more while you bite and suck on his lips.
The urge to feel his skin on yours is growing by the second and he's clearly feeling the same way, confirming it by grabbing your hips to pull you forward. He's been trying not to seem as disperate as he in fact is, but he can't take it anymore. Turning your shared needs into words, he whispers, "I need you closer..."
"Me too..." you nod breathing heavily, "can I get rid of these?" you ask playing with the button of his pants.
"Yeah, please" he rises his hips to help you remove them, biting his lip when you graze his bulge.
Once he guides you to sit on his lap, the fabric of your dress rises, revealing most of your thighs in all their glory. They are so cute and soft that he'd like to bend over and pepper them with kisses right away. Instead he strokes them, triggering chills all over your back. "So pretty..."
Your cheeks heat up, embarrassed because you're still somewhat insicure of them, yet pleased he's able to help you feel more comfortable in your own skin. To thank him, you slowly start to roll your hips against his, making him unable to keep his moans from escaping his lips. He can't believe you're already making a whimpering mess out of him and nothing really happened yet. Moving on to cupping your ass cheeks and playing with the hems of your panties, he speaks his mind again: "I want to eat you out so bad... can I?"
Your heartbeat quickens, filling your ears and your chest, and you can feel it in your stomach as well, right were it meets the pulsations of your core.
"Please do it."
"Yeah?" He giggles at the urgency of your tone. "Are you comfortable with that?" He's surprised by how sure you are about it this time.
"Absolutely, yes, mmh mmh" you stroke the nape of his neck and give him a reassuring smile.
You're tired of shying away from something you want more than just from time to time. You saw and heard multiple times the way he feels about your body, you know it's all in your head, you want to stop depriving yourself of pleasure because of insecurities.
He gets up holding your legs - that immediately wrap around his waist - and gently lays your back on the mattress. "Tell me if you feel uncomfortable, alright? Anytime you can stop me" he makes sure, eyes looking straight into yours.
"Yeah" you nod and take a deep breath, "I promise".
He pushes the hem of the dress up to your lower stomach and starts peppering kisses all over it, making you giggle. Discending to the the front of your thighs, he leaves some kitten licks on the flush skin. "My pretty girl" he mutters against it.
You keep your hands over your mouth, losely closed in fists, hypnotised by the view of his plump lips coming in contact with your body. Your is heart in your throat, anticipating his next move.
When his eyes flutter open, he takes in your rosy cheeks and your sparkling eyes before staring into them again. "Are you okay with me going on?"
"I am" you breathly confirm, "one hundred percent."
"Good, just promise me you're going to let me hear all your lovely sounds too" he asks referencing your hands, shooting you a wink. A warm smile spreading in between your cheeks, you assure him you will.
He slowly slides your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. Once again the look he gifts you is eager, and it fills your chest with confidence. His hands are now sprawled on your thighs, gently spreading them apart. He wastes no time and lowers his face closer to your heat, his warm breath fanning over your glistening lips. He's only giving you some experimental licks but you're already blissfully moaning. "J-junnie give me more please, I need more" you beg him even though you know you don't have to get what you want: Yeonjun is always ready to fulfill your desires, no matter how small or big they are.
He looks up smirking before starting to give attention to your neglected bud above, alternatively sucking and drawing little circles with his skilled tongue. When he detaches his lips for a second to breathe, he notices you clenching and your arousal gushing out, and he can't help but growing harder in his boxers. "Fuck baby, you are so hot..."
"ah- I am actually... can you help me get out of this dress?" you jokingly answer surprising him.
"Sure" he chuckles moving closer to help you carefully pull it off your head. He's so glad you felt comfortable enough to wear it to dinner that night. You looked absolutely beautiful with the smooth fabric hugging your curves in all the right ways. That dress was basically made for you to wear, it would have been a shame for if to keep staying in your closet forever, waiting for the day you will finally wear it like you always dreamed of. The last thing he wanted though was for you to feel pressured: "trust me when i say you're breathtaking in it, but i don't want to you to force yourself to wear it if you don't feel like it, sweetheart", he told you the day you decided to try it once again while you where reorganising your closet. It took you some time to finally wear it in public, but the day came, and he was so glad he got to experience seeing your face light up with joy and relief when you looked at yourself in the mirror and liked how you looked. Step by step, day by day, you've come so far and he was so proud of you.
With the fabric gone, he happly admires the view in front of him: your hair scattered on the comforter framing your crimson cheeks, the delicate plush skin of your breasts gathered in your lovely lacy bra, your cute soft belly, the tender curve of your hips... no amount of "pretty, gorgeous, lovely, hot" is ever going to be enough to emphasize how beautiful you are to his eyes, so he decides to show you. He returns to his previous ministrations, dividing his attention to different parts of your body: his mouth on your core, his right fingers tickling your entrance - it doesn't take much before they slip inside hitting your velvety walls just right - while his left hand strokes your thigh, reaching to cup one of your breasts moments later.
All type of sounds can't stop falling out of your mouth, the pleasure spreading and reaching every single corner of your body. Every time he groans, the vibrations he produces brings you closer to the edge. Your heart is galloping in your ribcage, you ask yourself if he's able to hear it too.
"You taste so good sweetheart" he savours, "it's never enough".
As you come undone, your hands run to his, busy massaging your breasts, squeezing it while a trail of his repeated name - "jun, jun, jun, oh my god" - leaves your lips.
"My sweet baby, you did so good, look at you" he praises massaging your shaking hips. "Did you enjoy it?" despite the clear reaction of your body, he wanted to hear you say it.
"A lot...", you smile contently, "thank u love". You reach for his shoulders, inviting him to come closer and hug you, and when your arms fold around him, holding him tightly to your warm chest, he swears his heart could burst.
He looks up at you, his juicy lips glistening with traces of your arousal, looking incredibly inviting. He starts licking them and immediately catches the disappointed expression on your face: he rushes to your own mouth to share a kiss and let you taste yourself on his.
"Better?" he asks.
"Yeah" you answer.
You're smiling to yourself, asking how the hell were you so lucky to find someone that's truly head over heels for you, that makes you feel so loved and cherished and appreciated. You feel like crying with joy.
"Baby, is everything okay?" His tender voice asks. He noticed your glossy eyes.
"Yeah, i'm just thinking about how lucky i am... to have of you in my life", you say as if it was a stupid reaction he should pay no mind to, running your fingers over your eyelids to quickly chase the tears away. But he stops you, taking your face into his hands and stroking your cheeks lovingly. "Oh sweetheart... me too".
He starts planting a series of soft kisses all over them, letting your tears roll down freely. "You don't even imagine how happy and proud you make me."
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feedback is always appreciated, thank u for reading!! <3
424 notes · View notes
yandere-avatar · 3 months
Text
My Jealousy, Jealousy Started Following Me
Characters: Avatar Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, Zuko, Toph Beifong, Ty Lee, Avatar Korra, Asami Sato, Tenzin, Kya II, Lin Beifong, Suyin Beifong, Opal Beifong [Might do another with Azula, Mako, Bolin, and Kuvira if yall want] Had this in the drafts for a while. Just had to finish it up. Holy shit this took forever. Kept debating if it was worth it...
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Avatar Aang
Aang likes to think he doesn't get jealous
He's calm and collective
But that all changed when one of the girls at Toph's Metal Bending Academy tried hitting you up
He likes to give them the benefit of the doubt and thinks maybe they don't know you're both dating
"Hey Babe! Come look at this sculpture Toph made!" [He'll call you nonchantly, hoping they'll get the hint]
But when the other person also walks over, still flirting with you, that's when he gets angry
He'd want to confront them, but honestly he's to nice for that
He might ask Katara for help
Katara will tell you how Aang feels
You'll confront Aang, but he'll pretend he doesn't know what you're talking about
"You know, you can tell me, Aang. You trust me, right?"
He'll sigh and admit and you'll comfort him, even confiding in him that sometimes you get jealous when people hit on him
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Katara
HAHAHAHA
Oh, I really feel bad for whoever is flirting with you
Katara is a very jealous woman
She doesn't like people taking what's hers
She might lightly bend them, but she'll do it nonchalantly
She'll justify it by saying that it's not a big deal and you're blowing it out of proportions
She gets really frustrated with herself, because she hates this feeling
She's very powerful, so she's not someone you want to mess with
She gets irritated and will roll her eyes as someone tries to flirt with you
Very passive aggressive
You better be prepared for a fight
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Sokka
He's so confused
Did that person not know you were taken?
He already has insecurities, so this doesn't help
He knows you're great, one of the MANY things he likes about you, so of course people would want your attention, but the point still stands
He'll probably do something stupid to get your attention
It's rather ridiculous
You'll look away from the person flirting with you to see your boyfriend about to get hurt
"Hey, I have to leave, my boyfriend is about to get himself killed"
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Suki
She's very confident, so she's not worried about this person at all
Though, she is annoyed, because who did that person think they were?
She will probably call your attention to her and do something to impress you, so you focus on her
She smiles when seeing you turn your attention away from them [Flirter]
It's a huge win for her
There is a slight part of her that is insecure because she sees you as incredible and she knows other people see it too
What if you end up leaving her? It really bothers her
So she's always doing crazy stuff to impress you so you never leave
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Zuko
Probably the easiest to anger and get jealous
He has no control over his emotions what so ever
He WILL start a fight with the guy hitting on you
He does NOT care who they are or what was say, he's going to put them in their place
But before he does that, he'll express to you that he's upset, but you think it's nothing
He tries to win your affection by beating that guy up
You're just annoyed because you think he overreacted. He says he didn't [He did]
Will gaslight you, saying it's your fault
"Why were you even talking to him!?"
He's so angry and he'll break the closest thing to him
He wants to control his anger, but you really bring out this side of him. He makes sure you know it too, because he tells you
So, when he's done throwing this temper tantrum, you both leave the party; Mad af
You're mad that the party and good vibe was ruined and he's mad that you're mad, because he was just trying to get that dude away from you
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Toph Beifong
She can feel the other person's heart beat pick up as they continue to hit on you
She's annoyed, but doesn't know how to express it healthily
She might use her bending to push that person away from you
She'll give them a show, so that they can have something to talk about
Might even crush them
The thought makes her smirk
She'll send little earthquakes to the person
Treated thems like a ball and and bounces them with the earth, without making it obvious
She'll forget about it when you come over to her and talk to her
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Ty Lee
She's the least likely to get jealous because she's also a player
Though she does get upset when seeing that you're uncomfortable
She'll glare and excuse herself from whatever conversation she's in, even if it's with Azula, and walks over to where you are
Her tactic is to come in hot, just like the person flirting with you
She'll aggressively flirt with them to try and make them uncomfortable
But if that doesn't work, she'll be very direct and say that you're together and that they need to stop
They'll think it's a joke but Ty Lee is dead serious
She's willing to fight them if it comes to that
She might also grab your hand and drag you away, if you ask her not to make a scene
She'll keep an eye on you for the rest of the night
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Avatar Korra
Korra gets extremely jealous
If someone even LOOKS at you in a way she doesn't like, she'll get angry
She's possessive over the things that are hers
Anyone approaches her and they are pushed into the wall
She's pissed and can't control her bending
She'll apologize to the person she hurt, but she doesn't really mean it. She's still focused on you
You're HERs, so why are they talking to you
Everyone knows you belong to the Avatar, so why even try?
She's thinking of all the ways she could kill them
It kind of makes her feel a little better, but not much
She is slightly insecure though, because what if you do like them better than her? No, you can't... You just can't like them more
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Asami Sato
She'll roll her eyes and glare at them
They've got some balls talking to you, everyone knows you have a girlfriend, so why is that person flirting w/ you ??
She'll come strutting over & flip her hair
"Who's this babe?"
She's smiling, but anyone with eyes can see that's not true
Man if looks could kill
You tell her that they were telling you about some acomplishment they achieved
"Oh, did you tell them how we work with the Avatar and have saved the world?"
She's deadass going to shove her accomplishments in their face
She's so pretty too so she knows that they don't stand a chance
She's already won this fight, so they might as well give up
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Tenzin
Haha? Him? Jealous? No of course not-
Okay, he's extremely jealous, but it doesn't show at all
He has mad stern resting face- No emotions
But inside he's steaming
You probably have a little bit of an age gap, so he's worried you'll leave him for someone your age
[But you've liked Tenzin for a long time, so you weren't letting him go anytime soon]
He's trying to preoccupy his attention
Though, it's not working
He can't get it off his mind
Will definitely start a fight over it later
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Kya
She's confused. Why is someone flirting with you?
She's not insecure, just annoyed
Because who the hell did they think they were? Did they not know you were taken. No, they had to have known
She's pretty easygoing, so she won't act irrationally
Instead, she'll continue doing her thing and allowing you to do your own thing, because you're your own human being
She'll probably bring it up, like... offhandly, so you don't get suspicious
"Hey, who was the person you were talking to? You know, the one who had talked to Tenzin?"
You don't even think about it and are like "Oh! Yeah, they were so annoying. I think they were trying to hit on me."
She laughs it off, but she's not happy
Thankfully, you complain about it, annoyed af
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Lin Beifong
We know how she acts when she's broken up with [Hence her destroying ATI]
Try her and see what happens
She's a cop and she's willing to play dirty and arrest the person or frame them for a crime
She's going to ruin their life
And she doesn't even care if it destroys that person
The only person she cares about is you
She wants to hurt them
And she will stop at no means necessary to make sure it doesn't ever happen again
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Suyin Beifong
She, like her daughter, is passive aggressive
She'll glare and crush whatever is in her hand
She'll fantasize about all the ways she would kill the person flirting with you
She wants for it not to bother her, but it really does
Maybe because there is a part of her that is scared you'll leave her [Like Tenzin did to her sister]
She'll take a deep breath, before smiling, and approaching you
She'll try and join the conversation, but the person who was hitting on you cuts them off and pushes her out of the conversation
She gets pissed
How dare they do that to her
She wants to throw hands with them, but holds herself together
She'll grab your hand, capturing your attention
"Yeah?"
She then tells you she wants to go back home
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Opal Beifong
She feels very strongly about you and doesn't know what to feel when seeing someone flirt with you so openly
She knows it's not your fault, but god does she hate watching it
Though with her outgoing nature, she'd walk up and join the conversation, switching it to what she wants
She's easy going, so she doesn't really exhibit jealousy, because she goes with the flow
Though if you look closely, you can see her eye twitch and her mouth frown ever so lightly
She's quite passive aggressive and can be quite mean with her words
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sunaluv · 1 year
Note
I love the "Come get your man" series could you make a pt4????[you do not have to]
I love your work sm!!!keep doing what your doing!!!
Drink water, take breaks when needed, take care of your health both mentally & physically!!and see you next ask♡
wooo we back at it again! thanks for checking in on me bae 🥲 take care of yourselves too!
also thanks for 1k followers 🥳
part 3
feat. kenma, tsukishima, iwaizumi
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steamer!KENMA
kenma loves his job. as a professional streamer he’s his own boss, he doesn’t have to be around people too often and he’s become really fond of his little online community (not that he’d admit that out loud).
it’s been a week since your unplanned debut on his channel. you didn’t realize he was recording when you came to drop of his snacks, doing your daily check in. ever since, all the tags with his stream name were aggressively loving, basically demanding him to bring back their ‘mother’ to the screen.
you drop in every now and then to remind his viewers to look after themselves, jokingly scolding them for not looking after your man aswell but it’s all fun and games on both ends.
whilst watching his stream in the room next door, you can help but notice a user in particular.
@/kodzubae: LMAOOO i thought he would be dating someone much prettier😭 didn’t know kodzu did charity cases.
even though the chat was moving before you could read all the comments, your eyes always managed to find whatever the user said about you, and none of it was nice. you didn’t have to be told not to read the comments— it’s an unspoken fact but your eyes and brain always seem to betray you, feeding into your minor insecurities.
you haven’t even realized you were staring at a blank screen. kenmas’ stream had ended whilst you were too lost in your thoughts.
“…you alright?” he asked hesitantly.
though your eyes lit up and your lips quirked at the sight of your boyfriend, he knew something was up— call it a sixth sense of his.
you wordlessly tried to convince him that you were okay, talking and joking the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his embrace but none of it felt genuine. he didn’t want to pry, but it physically hurt him to see you hiding things from him.
totally disregarding the first rules of boyfriend 101: “don’t go through your partners phone!”, kenma unlocked your phone, instantly frowning at the screen before him.
it was her twitter page. kenma knew his lifelong fans, and the handle on your screen now was one of them, except it was full of fan behavior for him and blatant hatred for you.
he felt bad.
it wasn’t exactly his fault, but he still felt responsible for the digs at you that were happening on his live.
the next day, you had woken up hours after kenma. you tend to do that when you sleep with a heavy heart.
in the distance, you could hear him talking, probably streaming. so you opened his stream on your phone and tuned in right on time.
“hey guys,” he greeted. “before we start i want to say something…i’ve become aware that ever since ‘mother’,” he emphasized on the quote marks. “made her first appearance, some of you have not been the nicest to her online and i just want to say that that’s a boundary that absolutely cannot be crossed.”
@/user1: WHAT? WHO HURT MOTHER
@/user2: i hope she’s okay :( luv u mom
@/user3: we’re just going to skip over the fact that he acknowledges them as our parents? okay…
@/user4: cross ken >:( cross ken >:(
“so from here on out, any hate towards her will be an instant block. i’ve told my mods too so behave…” he firmly, yet gently scolded.
“now that’s out of the way, today we’ll be…”
you watched the rest of the stream with a smile on your face. though you were working on voicing your concerns and discomfort, it was nice to know that kenma is willing to work for you whilst he waited.
TSUKISHIMA (tall!reader)
“you look so much taller when you’re not welded into tsukkis’ side, ya know?”
startled, you angled your neck down to see one of your classmates.
you had been avoiding her, and she, you. but it seems she’s finally willing to break this ongoing silent tension fest between you two.
“what do you want.” you deadpanned.
she gasped. “you’re too mean! tsukishima doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you, he deserves someone who is more down to earth, you get me?”
she eyed you up and down to emphasize her point.
taking your silence as willingness to listen, she continued. “i mean your too tall! granted he is too but opposites attract, he needs someone who will look good with him, like me.”
you folded your lips inward to contain your laughter. you and basically everyone knew about this girls love for your boyfriend, but you never pegged her as the type to come at you like this.
“you can have him if you want,” you waved. “kei looooves short girls.”
her eyes lit up in victory, obviously not sensing your sarcasm. “cool, just make sure you break up with him today because-“
“nobody is breaking up with anyone.” a voice shot.
low and behold, your six foot something boyfriend shutting down any advances you were planning to set him up with. though he joined the conversation, he only appeared to be addressing you.
“kei! i-“
“tsukishima.”
“tsukki! i-”
“no.”
he made eye contact with your smirking face over the girls head. “you were just gonna throw me to the wolves like that?” he asked offended.
you chucked. “there’s no wolves kei, look at her” you pinched the cheek of the stunned girl stood in between you two. “she’s harmless, like a poodle.”
she stood, mouth open seemingly in shock.
looking back at him, his face did not let up. you sighed.
“i’m sorry kei,” you breathed through your nose. “i will never subject you to such a horrible, earth shattering, torturous-“
“that’s enough, my god” he groaned. grabbing your wrist, he dragged you by the wrist, only slowing down when you rounded the corner, out of the girls view.
“you know i was joking, right.” you poked his cheek, to which he swatted your hand away.
“i know you’re joking,” his signature smirk appeared. “after all you wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to date the guy you’ve been crushing on for as long as you’ve been here. if i recall, your confession went along the lines of ‘i-“
you slapped your hand over his mouth in embarrassment. leave it to the guy to turn your confession into a weapon against you.
you playfully bickered down the rest of the hall, forgetting all about the girl who had tried to take your place earlier.
IWAIZUMI
“are you sure you’re not only using him to like, get to oikawa or something?”
the first words this girl had spoken to you. you don’t know who she is, or where she came from but she has some nerve coming with such a ridiculous question considering you haven’t formally met before.
“excuse me?”
“you heard me,” her tone was now accusatory. “i’ve seen many girls do iwa dirty because they want oikawa so if that’s the case save yourself an ass beating and leave him alone!”
you don’t know if you have bad memory or what because you don’t know who this girl is and as far as your concerned, neither does your boyfriend.
“i’m sorry, are you a friend of his?” you were more confused than anything.
“i am his and he is mine.”
woah.
you didn’t want to accuse her, but every sign she was showing pointed to a major case of FDS (fan delusion syndrome), a case of the crazies found in fans of the oikawa toru founded by you, maki and mattsun, but you were unaware that this case was also present in your boyfriends own… supporters.
you don’t blame them though because your man is a total hunkkkk. anyways.
right on queue, the door slid open and both of your heads turned to meet hajime’s, and of course he has to show up with a sweaty face, shirt practically clinging to his defined body.
“hajime!” the girl called, running and stopping infront of him. “she’s using you do get to oikawa, break up with her!”
he followed the finger that was pointed to you— confused and lost in the middle of the gym.
“that’s my girlfriend, she doesn’t like him like that.”
the sound of a shattered heart pierced the sudden silence. “w-w-what do you mean girlfriend, she’s after toru i’m sure of it!”
a humorless chuckle sounded from his throat. “trust me, she doesn’t ”
being cautious not to set the girl off, he traversed around her, and straight to you who watched the whole interaction both concerned and amused.
“wowww,” you breathed. “i didn’t know you were also a cause for FDS.”
“what?”
“nothing,” you straightened. “i don’t blame her though. i would go crazy if you walked around looking like that too.”
his face flushed and he turned away. “stop saying things like that…”
you smiled, poking his cheek. “what, i can’t appreciate my boyfriend who’s built like he was carved from the greek gods himself?”
he walked away after pushing your face with his hand, drowning your chuckle.
“c’mon haji, don’t be like that,” you chased after him. “you have to be feeling yourself a little after seeing the affect you have of the seijoh population!”
the girl watched as you made her ‘man’ flush, comment after comment, feeling numb as she watched him get more and more out of his reach.
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