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#these were the options i saw proposed
bellowsthebard · 8 months
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✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨
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IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3
Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao
Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...
Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v
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Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.
But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.
He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.
You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.
You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.
"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.
"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.
One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.
“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”
Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.
“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.
“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.
“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.
Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.
“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.
“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”
Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”
“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”
Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.
"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.
"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."
"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.
"Good boy."
You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.
"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.
“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.
“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”
Lucifer could only shake his head.
"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"
"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.
You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.
"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.
"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.
"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.
"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.
Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.
Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."
A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.
The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.
"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.
"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.
You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.
Or did you?
While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?
"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"
"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"
You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.
You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.
You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."
Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."
Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.
"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.
The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.
Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.
“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.
“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.
He was beautiful.
He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.
"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.
"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.
"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"
You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.
"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.
"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"
Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.
"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."
"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."
"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."
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Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘
Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)
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iamasaddie · 24 days
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tired
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist
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Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?” 
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
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You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 3 months
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≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍
╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : softdom!zayne, husband!zayne x wife!reader, reader has body insecurities and negative thoughts, kissing, heavy petting, body worship, praise and reassurance, nipple play, clit play, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, soft sex, slight dirty talk, slight cursing, use of pet names "sweetheart" "snowflake", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))
wc : 5.4k
youtiful masterlist
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You couldn't sleep.
It was late; later than late—you knew that once Zayne got home, you would definitely be reprimanded for your sleeping habits again.
But how could you sleep like this?
The day had kept you restless.
Tara had proposed another one of her gala nights this afternoon, having practically spammed your texts with an invite for next week. She was quite adamant in this one, considering it was the only time that everyone seemed to be free enough at the same time, and of course, it went without saying that you were invited. But Tara wanted it to be extra special—to make up for all the lost time, and to make the most of the moment, because who knew when you all could get together like that again?
And you couldn't really argue with her on the matter; she had a good point. Though Tara and you saw each other often enough, both being the senior hunters that you were, schedule clashes were becoming more and more common. Suffice to say, it was even harder for the two of you to get ahold of the other girls you'd become close friends with over the years. Adulting was hard, sometimes.
So naturally, this was, as she put it, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one worthy of a little extra—and while exaggerated, in typical Tara fashion, you could definitely see where she was coming from.
You wanted to meet with the girls, just as much as she did.
But formal events had never been your favorite.
Earlier in the afternoon, you had spent your lunch break with Tara in favor of scouring for the perfect new outfit for that night out. "Window shopping only, for now, of course!" she had said, none too keen on spending right from the get go, but excited to scan all the options nonetheless. And perhaps, you, too, had been excited along with her—Tara's energy was always contagious, and she knew exactly how to string people along with her in all of her happy-go-lucky skip-throughs. But soon enough, you were quickly reminded as to why you disliked formal events so ardently.
It was the clothes.
While many girls you knew jumped at the prospect of dressing up a little fancier, it was hard for you to love—you never saw yourself as someone with a body shape that could easily fit into these fancy clothing, and you had always been jealous of the girls around you that did. You weren't exempt from the same desire to dress up, of course, but—it was simply harder to enjoy when it has only ever caused your confidence to dwindle.
You, yourself, had never really voiced out your insecurities.
You didn't know if the girls knew, nor if Tara had figured out why you were so hesitant to try things on with her.
But whether or not you spoke about it or showed it at all, it did nothing to change the reality that those thoughts were there.
In truth, you hated it.
Despised it.
You never thought yourself to look good in those form-fitting clothing; never thought yourself to look good in a dressed up skirt. If anything, it was hard for you to feel comfortable in such clothing at all—and shopping for them was always a pain.
You wanted to meet with the girls.
You did, you really did.
But suddenly Tara's little cocktail dinner party was more daunting to you than you'd have liked it to be.
Naturally, by the end of your little mall adventure, Tara had found herself a few options to go back, revisit and, perhaps, buy for that very night... While you remained blank on your choices.
The mere thought had you sinking even deeper into the duvets, never more grateful for the fact that you were covered and unseen under the thickness of them.
Your mind was simply racing too much.
You, too, wished you could just sleep all of your thoughts away, and maybe,  maybe, the morning will be more bearable.
...If only.
You haphazardly brought the duvet over your head, burying yourself completely hidden under them, and let out a whine.
Zayne would probably be home in a few moments.
He would see you like this, very much wide awake despite all his texts having insisted you not to wait up for him, already on the verge of crying from the sheer intensity of your less-than-welcome thoughts.
You didn't know how much he knew of all this, either.
Though you had been together for a couple years, married for roughly one—the topic had simply never come up. You hadn't explicitly told him anything about it; you'd simply managed enough through all the other formal events you'd had to attend.
You didn't want to be a baby.
In the end, you knew that this would pass, and you would get through it just fine like you always did—
Only that, somehow, today, it was worse than all the other days.
The thought of trying to get through this like you normally would only made your heart churn with discomfort, tears welling up in your eyes unwarranted.
Fuck.
Your lips quivered.
You didn't want to cry.
Zayne would be getting home from a long day.
He would be tired.
He would want to sleep.
He had an equally early start to the next day, and you couldn't—
You couldn't possibly bother him with petty problems you could solve on your own.
You always have, anyway, right?
Why should now be any different?
You heard the door click gently, followed soft, careful footsteps padding the floor to the room—
The minute the doorknob turned and you could vaguely make out the brief flicker of light, you shut your eyes tightly and turned to the side.
You had to sleep.
You had to sleep.
You swallowed thickly as you heard the faint rustle of fabric, the lightest clink of a hanger meeting its clothesrail, and the shifting of weight on the mattress.
Though you were under the blankets, you could feel the telltale warmth of your husband beside you, enough for it to have some form of comcort wash over you in an instant.
Perhaps, too much comfort.
You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and you drew in a careful, shaky breath.
Of course, Zayne, of all people, would never miss the slightest of cues from you.
"Sweetheart?"
There was a soft murmur of his voice over the top of your head, and you felt the duvet being slowly peeled off of.
There was a rush of cooler air over your face, and Zayne's arms wrapped around you, pulling your body closer to his.
...Ah, shit, you instantly surrendered, knowing there would be no way to play it off, only willing for those stupid tears in your eyes to magically disappear.
"You're awake, aren't you? It's not healthy to sleep under the blankets like that."
His voice was soft, and gentle, and he placed a light kiss into your hair.
You swallowed thickly.
"H-how was your shift...?"
You winced internally, thinking the waver in your voice was already a very telltale sign.
And as you were met with momentary silence, you figured you had been right.
Zayne shifted around, gently pulling you backwards against him, just enough for him to see your face.
And the moment your eyes locked, it was almost as if you couldn't take it anymore.
His lime-green eyes regarded your own with concern, and affection, and love—
It was almost as if all and any emotions swimming restlessly in your heart overflowed in an instant, and you couldn't think to stop the tears from falling. Choked sobs edged their way out of your throat, completely ignoring the horror at your sheer inability to control your own emotions.
You were so... pitiful. So pathetic.
You'd promised yourself you wouldn't cry in front of him over this, and yet, here you were.
Insult after insult swirled adamantly in your head as you turned, burying your face into his chest, desperately searching to anchor yourself in his warmth.
"What is it, snowflake? Are you unwell? What's wrong?" He murmured into your hair, soft, soothing rubs against your back, holding you tight against him—and you didn't feel like you deserved any of it. You wanted yo shy away from his gaze, from his touch—but the mere thought of such irrationality had you sobbing harder, berating yourself for even daring to doubt him at all.
You shivered in his arms, shaking your head, willing yourself to calm down.
And, perhaps, to you, there was no greater comfort than having him here with you.
Despite the conflicts in your mind—whether or not you were deserving of all of his affection—Zayne, and his sweet whispers of comfort, his reassuring squeezes, his loving caresses... Time and time again, you would never fail to find solace in his arms.
Now was no different.
Zayne always had that effect on you, and, perhaps, you wondered if maybe you should have considered opened up to him about this much sooner.
Now, at least, it was enough for you to steady your breaths, eyes closing, your own arms shifting to hug him back.
"Talk to me, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through your hair, soothing you through your sniffles. "It's bad to go to bed with negative feelings. Won't you tell me what's wrong?"
He didn't push you away, nor egg you to look back up at him, but you could easily hear the concern in his voice.
You shut your eyes tightly.
"...But you're tired," you whispered. "It's silly, Zayne..."
"It is not silly, not if it can make you cry."
This time, he brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it gently, and you tilted your head upwards to meet his gaze. "I didn't see you all day, snowflake," he nuzzled your forehead. "What happened to make you so upset while I've been absent?"
You pouted, already feeling another set of tears prick at your eyes, though you blinked them away rapidly.
"I... I missed you," you said quietly. And it was the truth, just not—all of it. It wasn't as if you planned on lying to him—what kind of a wife would you be if you did?
But you wouldn't have known where to start on this otherwise.
It was still true, anyway.
You'd missed his presence; you almost wished you had spent your lunch break with him like you normally did, and, perhaps, that way you wouldn't be feeling so down in the dumps like this.
But what was done was done.
"I missed you, too, sweetheart." He brushed the tears away from your face, and leaned down to place his lips on your temple, causing you to close your eyes at the gentleness in his every action. "But it's more than that, isn't it?"
Ah, a faint, barely-there smile made its way to your face. Zayne always knew you so well.
You let out a sigh, feeling yourself move in to chase his lips, hopeful for a more proper kiss that you had, in fact, been missing for most of the day.
While he allowed you to steal one, his eyes were expectantly searching yours.
You faltered, like you always did.
"...There's... a cocktail party next week..." You started quietly, moving to lay back on your back, eyes focusing on the ceiling above. "Tara planned it just this afternoon. A girls' outing."
"Did she? It's been a while since you've had those."
"...Yeah."
You turned to look at him, another tiny pout forming on your lips. "I just... I don't know if I want to go..." You leaned into his touch when he brought his hand back to cup your cheek, a familiar, comforting action he would often do with you.
"If you don't, then you shouldn't," he spoke matter-of-factly.
You let out a soft laugh.
It was a very Zayne-typical answer.
"Right, because it's always that simple," you rolled your eyes playfully. "...I wish it was, anyway. Zayne, I haven't seen them in forever..."
"Forever would be an exaggeration..."
You could almost hear the frown in his voice, but for a while, you didn't say anything else.
"...Sweetheart?"
Another gentle squeeze of your arm, and your eyes searched his, feeling your throat close up at truly admitting the source of your problems.
But you should, right? This was... communication. The both of you had always valued it; you couldn't just... go back on your own promises to him.
...It might have made you hate yourself more if you did.
"Zayne... I— I want to, but..."
You paused, taking in a deep breath, averting your gaze once more. Your lips quivered again, and Zayne's immediate reaction was to give you another soft, gentle kiss. Now, you could only close your eyes, focusing instead on the lingering feeling of having his lips upon yours, if only to keep yourself from breaking into tears yet again.
"I-I don't feel like I... Like my body very much, these days..." Your voice came out barely a whisper. "It's a formal event, right? Fancy dresses and all that... I went window-shopping with Tara today, and, I—"
Your breath got caught in your throat, and you shook your head, moving once more to bury yourself into his chest.
"I don't know, Zayne... Maybe, I think I just feel—hard to love, right now, or something. And it's so stupid. I know that you love me, I know that the girls do, and I've never questioned it, I just—I don't feel like I'm pretty enough to be loved, and..."
You clutched him tightly as more of your tears seemed to fall without your consent at all, your own heartbeat thrumming wildly in your ears just painfully hyperaware of just how pathetic you were being.
And you've been feeling pretty darn pathetic for virtually the entire day.
You really couldn't tell if crying was making you feel any better, either—you'd held it together this whole day up until now, but each and every time you spoke, it was almost as if the tears wouldn't stop. Even as he sighed into your hair, even as he hald you close, even with his soft, feathery kisses over the top of your head.
"Don't cry, snowflake," he murmured, gently rubbing your back. "Here, breathe with me. Relax, alright, sweetheart?"
You swallowed your sobs, settling slowly into whimpers and then slowly into hiccups, focusing on the steady movements of his palm against the silk of your nightgown.
"That's it. Breathe, okay?"
You sniffled as you looked up, pouting visibly, and he reached over to wipe your tears away once more, shifting to press his forehead against yours.
"Sweetheart. Have you been feeling this way for some time now?"
His eyes were intense. They carried within them was an emotion you couldn't quite place. It was almost as if it had swirled into a complicated mix, almost as if desperate to pull you out of your self-deprecating reverie; only giving way to a certain kind of sorrow when you feebly nodded your head.
"Oh, snowflake," he whispered, and the genuine regret that was laced into his voice made your heart thrum. "If only you had told me sooner."
"...M'sorry, Zayne..."
"Why do you apologize? I only wish to make you feel loved. Because I do love you. And I think you are the most beautiful, beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon."
His words felt weighty on your heart, nd you had to swallow down, for the nth time that night, that very same desire to cry.
"...Zayne..."
This time, he kissed you—soft, and slow, and gentle; not unlike most of his kisses, but laced with a certain passion that almost seemed to drown out all the fragments of disdain still in your mind. His hand moved up to your hair, his other drawing you even closer against him, the heat from his skin becoming ever more noticeable to you.
When you pulled back from his kiss, eyes dazed and mildly breathless, he traced his fingers over your face—from your eyes, to your nose, to your mouth, to your jaw... And down, over your collarbone, over the skin of your upper arm.
"You are beautiful, sweetheart," he repeated. And he stroked your arm, never once taking his eyes off of you.
For the first time that night, you thought—yeah. Maybe I am beautiful.
His hand, then, moved from your arm over to your clothed breast, grazing over the exposed skin peeking out of your now-disheveled nightgown, before trailing down to your stomach—and your hips—and your thigh—
You let out a shaky breath, your eyes moving downwards to watch as his hnd repeated the same motions, steadily feeling yourself relax into the lull of his caresses.
"Your hips," he mumbled. "Your stomach... your thighs... your arms... your breasts..." Zayne leaned over to kiss the tip of your nose, offering you the smallest of smiles. "Your cheeks. Your lips. Your nose, your eyes, your..."
"—Z- Zayne—"
"...Everything." His voice dropped low into a whisper, his hand slipping right between your thighs, brushing a knuckle against your clothed heat.
He nuzzled against you, sighing.
"You're beautiful, my snowflake. And I love every single part of you. Do you understand?"
You could only nod underneath his gaze, staying completely still as he moved his arm down to settle firmly over your waist, his eyes conveying a certain desire that was quite familiar to you.
"...Zayne," you mumbled. "A-aren't you sleepy?"
"No."
"But... You always say it's bad to stay up late..."
He gaze was unwavering; firm, yet expectant. You could feel his thumb rubbing circles into your skin, and when he lened back in to whisper over your lips, you could feel yourself dizzy at his hot breath against you.
"Maybe so," he whispered. "But you are more important right now. And if you would allow me, sweetheart... Then I, as your husbnd, would want nothing more than to show you just how much I love you."
Your breath caught in your throat.
His hand, now, would slide up ever so slowly, tracing the curvature of your spine, and you shuddered—
"Okay," you spoke, breathless, quiet, waiting in anticipation of his movements.
And when he smiled, you thought, truly, you couldn't wish for a more loving husband.
"May I know?" he mumbled as he gently moved the fabric of your gown up above your breasts. "What about your body do you hate so much?"
He stopped when you shivered involuntarily against the cold air on your stomach, subconsciously moving your arms over to cover yourself.
You looked away.
"I understand if you do not want to talk about it. If it's too much, then please, forget I as—"
"...I'm not slim, like the other girls," you cut him off softly.
Zayne's hands gently pried your own away from your stomach, bringing one of them up to kiss at your knuckles.
For a while, there was silence, and you shrunk under his gaze.
What if he also...
"You don't have to be," he interrupted your thoughts with a nod of his head, having finally gathered his thoughts, and his other hand moved back to stroke the side of your waist.
"...But... I-I don't fit well into dresses... My torso is long, and my figure isn't very flattering, my belly fat would show if I—"
He moved lower, this time, to place a trail of kisses from the valley of your breasts down over your navel.
"Z-Zayne..."
"You must understand that I think your figure is very flattering, sweetheart. You've always looked stunning in everything that you've worn. Don't you know how much self-control I must practice whenever I see you?" A smile tugged at his lips, and you almost shivered at the look in his eyes, goosebumps raising on your skin when he snaked his hand over to the plush of your inner thigh. "And I love the way my hands would mold into your skin. They fit so perfectly around your waist, your thigh... So easy for me to hold. Very easy for me to love."
He gave you a squeeze as if to prove his point, but you could only look away almost shamefully. "...But I have scars on my legs," you mumbled. "So wearing short skirts would expose them, and they're—"
"Beautiful."
He bent your leg to kiss your knee, gently brushing his fingers over the marks on your skin.
"They are beautiful."
Zayne shook his head with a sigh, before moving back up to capture your pout into another kiss.
"But—"
"No buts, sweetheart. These are not flaws to be hidden, nor things that you should feel the need to get rid of. They are part of you, and to me, that makes them perfect."
Another kiss, this time by the side of your jawline, and you drew in a breath.
"You are perfect, snowflake."
You felt your skin burn against his touch, and his words made you feel warm and tingly.
"The shape of your face is, too, perfect as it is. In case you were wondering. Just as perfect for me to hold, and just as perfect for me to kiss."
A kiss on your neck, to your collarbone, to your shoulders, down your arm...
"I can only say the same for your arms. So soft. They wrap perfectly around me, did you know that?" He smiled against your skin, before shifting to press you onto your back, caging you between his arms and hovering above you. "And your shoulders sit on you perfectly fine, I hope you don't think of them so badly, either. Frankly, they must be tired from carrying all the burdens you keep from me still..."
You noted the seriousness in his voice, and felt yourself subsequently relax.
"...Zayne, I—"
"Do not apologize. I won't ask for it, and you've nothing wrong. However... you must tell me, next time, sweetheart, whenever you feel like this. Can you promise me that?"
A silence followed, as if you were weighing your words—
And perhaps, you were.
It was never easy for you to speak of this thoughts. You'd think yourself normal if not for all these baseless insecurities, and you'd much prefer to keep them to yourself—
But what had that done? All these years spent holding in your tears, only to break at the slightest prod of your thoughts.
It wasn't as if crying had helped you.
It even made things worse, probably.
And it would do more harm to you if you continued in this unhealthy cycle of bottling things up.
"...You don't mind?" you whispered. "I don't want to bother you... You're always so busy..."
"Oh, sweetheart. I will always have time for you. And I am always here to listen. You understand that, don't you?"
"...I know, but..."
"I am your husband. What husband would I be to ignore your concerns?"
You smiled faintly at that, finally finding in yourself the courage to loosely hook your arms around his neck.
In the end, Zayne was willing to be your confidant. And communication had always been important between the two of you, you knew this well enough—an issue like this shouldn’t be too different from that. Why would you keep such things from him, truly?
"Okay," you nodded, a promise to yourself and a promise to him. "I promise, Zayne."
"Good girl."
His praise, so associated now with certain activities that you had often done, went straight to your core—you almost wanted to hide, despite knowing you had given him consent to do as he wished, but he leaned in for another kiss.
You could feel his smile as he moved his lips against yours, biting gently at your lower lip enough to elicit a gasp.
When he pulled back, the mirth in his eyes was clear, and you jumped as you felt the pad of his thumb graze ever so slightly over your pert nipple.
"Z-Zayne..." you whispered, eyes searching his.
"Do you know what I love the most about your body?"
He spoke against your lips, close enough just to touch, but not quite.
You slowly shook your head no.
"You're always so responsive."
His hand moved to knead at your skin, brushing slightly over your nipple but never quite touching. His eyes fixed upon yours, taking in the way your eyelids would flutter and the way you would instantly shudder at his touch;
"So... expressive. So telling."
You couldn't help the way you whimpered, feeling yourself arch slightly into his hand, eyes closing as he flicked once more against your nipple before pinching it between the pads of his fingers.
The moan he elicited out of you was airy and long, and had you opened you eyes, you would see the way he tilted his head, watching you, observing you. He only continued, of course—rolling it slowly, tugging slightly, feeling the bud get harder between his nimble fingers. It was almost as if he were eager to hear more of you moans, and he would get them instantly.
"You're always so sensitive for me, sweetheart."
Without giving you a chance to react to his words, he dipped his head down, latching his mouth over your other bud, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your arms. Another moan fell from your lips. You felt him gently rub your waist once more to ease you into the pleasure, expertly working you up.
He knew you so well.
You could feel it in the way he pinched and rubbed at you in all the right places, skillfully swirling the tip of the warm muscle over your stinging nipple. You felt his saliva pool from the sides of his mouth and onto your breasts—when he pulled back with a 'pop', you flushed at the way he casually wiped it away, eyes never leaving yours.
"Z-Zayne, really, you..." You were breathless when he spoke, barely getting a chance to collect yourself when he sat up, spreading you open and settling between your legs.
"You're wet, aren't you?" he spoke matter-of-factly, but the look in his eyes told you that he was quite pleased. "Hm, what did I say? So responsive for me."
His hand moved lower.
"Just like the good girl that you always are..."
Lower, lower, digging into the waistband of your panties—
"And you are such..."
Another kiss on your stomach, and he slowly pulled the fabric away.
"A beautiful..."
His eyes dropped to the way your slick pulled with your underwear, a telltale sign of your wetness.
"Good girl."
Zayne moved to swipe a finger over your slit, collecting your arousal and spreading it over to your clit. He raised an eyebrow slightly at you as he did so, taking in the way you would mewl almost instantly;  "So wet for me, my snowflake."
You whimpered, hands reaching out for him, settling only when he tucked you under his chin, easily slipping a finger into your hole.
"Mmh— Zayne..."
Another moan, and he kissed at your hair, gently pumping his finger in and out of you.
"See how perfect you are?" He murmured, and his thumb would press over your clit, gently rubbing in time with the languid thrust of his finger. "The way you wrap around me like this... I could keep my fingers inside of you all night long, sweetheart."
You could feel everything, with the way he took his time with you, exploring every inch of your pussy almost as if committing it to memory. And he was right—he felt perfect inside you, feeling his sighs against the crown of your head everytime he would clench around you.
He slipped another finger in, and you groaned at the stretch.
"Shit, Zayne," you whispered, feeling yourself buck up into his fingers.
"Language, sweetheart."
You almost laughed at his words, had he not quickened his pace, finally moving his head down to bring you into another deep kiss.
You could feel it—the gradual knotting in your stomach, the jolt of pleasure when he rubbed against your sensitive spots.
"Zayne—" You moaned when he pulled back from the kiss, eyes turning hazy. "Zayne, please, I'll cum—"
He peppered kisses over your face, and smiled.
"Cum for me, sweetheart."
You gasped as you climaxed almost as if by command, trembling in your place, eyes wide as you felt the pleasure rip through you intensely. Zayne continued to kiss at your skin, soothing phrases in your ear, gentle caresses over your arm.
"Z-Zayne, I... You...—"
He pressed his cock against your cunt, sighing into your neck.
"One more, sweetheart, okay?" he breathed, teasing your entrance with his tip. "I need to be inside you."
And how could you say no?
You could feel the lust radiating off of him, his chest heaving with remnants of self-control, leaving slow, languid licks on the side of your neck if only to placate himself.
It was rare to see him lose control, but you knew that he would always end up getting like this whenever he would push himself inside you.
He would only get like this with you.
For you.
Your heart jumped, and you nodded, running your hands over his back.
"I can take one more," you mumbled.
Immediately, inch by inch, you felt him sink deep into your cunt, feeling the stretch of your walls to accomodate his length no matter how many times you'd done this.
Your eyes closed as you hissed in pleasure, wrapping your legs around his waist, taking in the way he would gently rut against you. Soft, steady, rocking movements; the bed would creak along with his thrusts in a lull that had your eyelids fluttering closed.
"You take me very well," he groaned from the throat, voice slightly muffled into your neck. "So perfect for me, snowflake... Your pretty pussy around my cock..."
His words sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, every squeeze of your cunt on eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips.
"Haah... Zayne..."
He made you feel loved.
His cock was snug in your walls, every vein and ridge dragging perfectly against you. You were made for him, and he for you—his low moans were music to your ears, and you hugged him tighter, your chest swelling with warmth.
"I love you," you whispered, bucking your hips up to meet his. "I love you, Zayne... so, so much."
He finally lifted his head, the lustful cloud in his lime-green eyes mixing with overflowing adoration.
"And I love you, sweetheart. More than you think. More than you know."
You'd never felt yourself glow at such words before.
The pace he kept was steady, but the lingering feeling of your previous high had you now moaning unabashedly, feeling yourself getting closer, and closer to another one.
"Please," you whimpered, feeling your nails dig into his back when he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars. "Please, Zayne, 'mso close..."
He shuddered at the way you clenched, obliging you with harder, deeper thrusts, adoring the way you would throw your head back in moans of his name.
"Fuck," he cursed, eyes closing, hips stuttering. "Go ahead, sweetheart, 'm right there with you."
You could feel the way he twitched inside of you, thrusts getting faster, more erratic.
"Inside, right?" you breathed, clutching him tightly, almost locking him in place. "Inside, Zayne, please—together—"
He moaned lowly, nearly driving you into the mattress with the force of his thrusts, your words igniting a newfound fervor. "Shit—you'd like that, huh, sweetheart? Want me to fuck a baby in you? You'll be such a beautiful mother, won’t you?"
Your eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the feeling of his cock against your walls, claiming your cunt in the way you liked best. "Yes, yes, yes," you chanted, "please, Zayne—"
You mewled in your release, clenching tightly, feeling him paint your insides white as ropes of his cum spurted deep inside of you.
You held him close, panting, burying your face into his neck.
"I love you," you whispered, repeating your words. "I love you, Zayne. I love you, and thank you... For always being there for me."
He panted as he thrust inside of you once, twice, plugging you full of his spend, before pulling out and kissing you deeply.
"I love you ever more. I will never stop feeling lucky to have you, and I will always be here. I meant it, sweetheart... You'd make a beautiful mother." As you flushed, he pressed a hand against your stomach, and smiled. "For what it's worth, your weight is perfectly healthy. And there is nothing wrong with your body, okay, snowflake?"
"...I know. Thank you, Zayne."
"Would you prefer to go shopping with me, instead? My shift will end earlier tomorrow. I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with you."
This time, you smiled. You snuggled into his embrace, finding solace in his warmth, just as you always did.
"I'd like that a lot."
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⁺₊ / an: i ended up combining a couple of requests for this (and the youtiful series as a whole) and finally got around to writing zayne!!! this was incredibly hard to write, i love him INCREDIBLY so, and something about writing him amplifies the need to have it down perfectly 😭
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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doctorbeth · 11 months
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Ursula the Unicorn
Ursula was very well loved by her little girl. Ursula's family's mom wrote that she "was won at a carnival game, so her materials are probably not top quality. However, she has been loved to pieces (almost literally) by my five year old over the past three years. This includes my daughter using her as a pillow every night and carrying her around by the horn all the time."
Here is the first photo of Ursula I saw:
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As you can see, she was a bit droopy and had lost the original glow on her horn and hooves, but she was still pretty stable. I proposed a spa and recovering her horn and hooves in new fabric. Her family agreed and Ursula flew in. Here she is in her bubble bath:
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She's getting nice and clean and don't worry, she'll be plump soon! You can also see a bit of the glow on her hoof and horn, but we still planned to recover them as the fabric was quite thin.
Here's here heart being made and installed with a bit of her original stuffing. I have special unicorn fabric for their hearts... mostly because I saw the fabric and couldn't resist. :-)
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Once she was mostly stuffed, it was time to find new pink glowing fabric for her. That took a bit of doing. She originally had sparkles, which were long gone, and a perfect match in color and sparkles was nowhere to be found. Here are the three options I found (the one on the left has sparkles... don't know if you can see them):
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Her family opted for the panne velvet in the last image... a really close color match with some shine.
Surgery proceeded and soon Ursula was ready to fly home:
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She flew straight home to Indianapolis and into her little girl's arms. I got a photo of them...Ursula was being squeezed very tightly around the neck, so it's a good thing she got plumped up! And the feedback from the five year old? “They did such a good job!”
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May I request Yandere Malleus and Neige with a female darling who is gentle and sweet! Like she likes to try and give him gifts he’d like! Please and thank you!
Yandere Malleus Draconia
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If you thought Malleus couldn't get more possessive, you'd be wrong.
And his picture is already in the dictionary under "needy Yan dragon".
Malleus would love how gentle and kind you would be towards him.
But he would hate it when other people also spend time with you.
The fact that you are also sweet with others would not make him satisfied.
Malleus thought they wouldn't deserve it.
Most likely Malleus would kidnap you after you gave him a birthday present.
Malleus world would stop at that moment.
He wouldn't be used to this.
That was the moment Malleus realized how much he loved you.
It would also be the moment when Malleus would realize that he wouldn't want to live without you.
No one could come between your love.
You probably don't even know about these feelings.
Or you do and complete the "get kidnapped by a yandere" speed run.
If it's the latter option, you shouldn't have to wait long.
And if it's the first option…
You're going to have a really awkward conversation with Malleus.
Yandere Neige Leblanche
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Definitely the reason why Neige would fall so hard for you.
This would be like fuel for his delusional beliefs.
You would be like a fairy tale princess…
Neige would be like your brave prince.
You two were supposed to be together.
In his opinion, this would be perfectly clear.
Neige would believe this from the bottom of her heart.
This was fate.
But at the same time, Neige would be worried that something would happen to you.
Even if Neige wanted to, she couldn't be with you every moment.
At least not yet.
His NRC application was rejected XD.
And his attempt to get you a transfer to RSA has not worked.
Neige doesn't understand why some higher power would be against him…
Most likely it would be just Vil.
But he would try his best for you.
You would have noticed how down Neige would have been lately.
So you decided to buy him a present.
Neige almost proposed to you when she saw this.
He would love you very very very much.
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oxymorayuri · 2 months
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❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝
Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt
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𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒
You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p
You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.
He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.
𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑
Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.
He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.
he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.
𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤
A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3
Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.
He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜
You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.
You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.
It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.
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Masterlist
I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3
𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 months
Text
Come See About Me
Pairing: Tom Holland x reader
Synopsis: Tom realizes he got you all wrong and slowly falls as he learns more about you during the press tour
Masterlist
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“Oh shoot. I’m press with Y/n all week.” Tom said as he read an email from his team.
“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked him.
“Not necessarily. I just don’t really know her that well. She was super reserved on set for the few days I shot with her. I wonder why they paired me with her.”
“Well, you’re the same age, right? The movie team probably just want to start romance rumors for publicity.”
“I don’t think that will happen. I barely got to know her during filming. I doubt anyone will see chemistry between us.” Tom replied. He started pacing around his hotel room and felt uncharacteristically nervous for the day ahead.
“Well for your sake, let’s hope you don’t see chemistry between you either.” Harry snorted.
“How do you mean?” Tom frowned.
“You know how messy relationships in the public eye can be. Just don’t go falling in love with this girl, okay? I do not want to watch you pine after your dark and mysterious costar.” Harry warned him.
“Psh. I won’t fall in love with her. That would never happen.” Tom scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone. He ended up on Instagram and saw that you had recently posted a photo. It was just a simple selfie in your hotel room which was probably just a few doors down from Tom’s. He found himself smiling and gave the photo a like. He may not have gotten to know you on set, but there’s no reason he couldn’t get to know you now.
“But if I did, why would that be bad?” Tom asked as he deep stalked your Instagram.
“The way I see it, there are two outcomes if you choose to pursue her. Option one is you get swept up in the excitement of promoting the movie and start reading into every little interaction between the two of you because that’s what the public is doing. So you convince yourself you’re in love with her and maybe she’ll even convince herself of the same thing. But once the press tour is over and you get to be with each other without any reason or purpose, you realize you never actually liked each other. And that’ll just end up breaking both your hearts. Even worse if only one of you realizes you never actually liked the other. God. That would be a nightmare.” Harry shivered.
“Okay.” Tom said slowly. “That was oddly specific. So what’s the other outcome?”
“You fall in love with her on this press tour and then it ends before you get a chance to tell her. So she flies off to film another movie and you’re stuck kicking yourself for not being honest with her sooner. And I’m stuck watching you whine about it.” Harry said simply.
“Or, hear me out, secret third option.” Tom proposed. “I fall for her and she falls for me and we have a great relationship. And maybe it lasts and maybe it doesn’t. But at least we gave it a shot. That could happen, right?”
“Maybe. But either way, she’s getting on a plane at the end of this press tour. And you can’t fall in love with someone who’s worlds away. Remember that.” Harry reminded him.
“I’m not gonna fall in love with her.” Tom insisted.
“Promise?” Harry asked skeptically.
“Yeah. Promise.” Tom said weakly. He looked at your picture one more time before shutting his phone off.
The next morning, Tom got into a black van that was going to take the cast to the building where the interviews were taking place. You got into the car shortly after with a huge smile on your face that Tom had never seen before. You were in a nice dress and full glam already, unintentionally earning yourself Tom’s full attention.
“Good morning.” You said enthusiastically as you sat in the seat beside him. He was slightly taken aback by how friendly you were being since he had only ever seen you being quiet and reserved.
“Oh, hello.” He smiled in surprise. “Good morning to you too, darling. How are you doing?”
“I’m really excited for today.” You admitted. “I haven’t done a big press tour like this before. I know they can be a little boring and repetitive but I can’t wait.”
“Yeah. These tours are pretty crazy. You get to see a lot of amazing places which is really cool. But you also get to answer the same question 100 times a day for a month straight. You’ll learn the highs and the lows pretty soon.”
“I’m ready for it all. But thanks for the warning. I appreciate any tips I can get.” You chuckled.
“You’re welcome. And don’t worry. You’ll get used to waking up at the crack of dawn and having a bunch of people you’ve never met poke you with makeup and hair stuff.”
“When?” You asked through a yawn. “Because I have a full face of makeup on before my brain is fully awake and it feels so very, very wrong.”
“Not soon enough.” He sighed. “I’ve learned to stay half asleep while the nice ladies apply my concealer.”
“Oh, so this complexion isn’t natural?” You teased and pointed to his face.
“Nope. You’re not the only one in full glam right now, darling.” He humored you, making you laugh.
“Careful. You don’t know if you can’t trust me yet. I might sell that piece of bad boy information to a news site and get you exposed.” You warned. It was Tom’s turn to laugh and he felt amazed that he had never seen this side of your personality before.
“I hope you don’t. I was just about to say that I’m glad I can share your first big press tour with you but now I feel we may have begun an enemies arch.”
“No. We can’t be enemies.” You whined playfully. “Because I was gonna say that I’m glad you’re here too. You always seem so relaxed and funny in interviews. I’m really hoping I don’t come off as nervous as I feel today.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t. It’ll feel just like a conversation.” He assured you. He was pleased to know you were a watcher of his interviews and wondered what else he’d uncover about you that day.
“Thank. I really appreciate you helping me with all this.”You said sincerely.
“It’s no trouble. If you have any other questions, just ask. I’ll help wherever I can.” He told you.
“Thanks, Tom.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and suddenly remembered what Harry had said the night before about not falling in love with you. Tom was just one conversation in and already struggling to keep his promise.
Once the van arrived at the building, you and Tom had makeup touch ups and were then sent into the junket room.
“Wow. I haven’t seen the poster yet.” You gasped and touched the poster with gentle fingertips. Tom watched you admiring it and smiled when he saw how proud you looked.
“You look good up there. I hope to see you on more posters.” He said and nudged you slightly.
“Like in Playboy?” You asked and looked insulted.
“What?” Tom gulped. “No, no, no. I didn’t-“
“I’m just messing with you.” You cut him off and nudged him back. He felt his hearts too racing and cracked a smile.
“You really had me for a second there, darling. I didn’t realize you had such a sense of humor. I guess I never heard you say much on set.”
“Thats because I found it hard to shake my character after filming all day. I guess I’m not used to separating that yet. I loved my character and all but I’m so glad to be done shooting her. She’s so dark and dramatic. It really affected my mood on set.” You told him as you both sat down in your chairs.
“Oh, wow. So you’re not quiet? You were just in character?”
“Quiet? I’ve never been described as quiet.” You laughed. “I was just in my emo phase on set because the material I was shooting was so dark. It bummed me out all day.”
“But you’re not bummed out today?” He asked with a coy smile.
“Fuck no. I’m ready to party.” You whispered to him just as the journalist came in. He burst out laughing at the unexpected expletive and earned himself a look from the journalist.
“Well alright then.” He chuckled.
That was the first of many times you made Tom laugh that day. The more interviews you did together, the more he learned about you and your personality. He paid attention to every anecdote and personal story you shared and was more and more fascinated each time.
When it came time for day two of the press tour, he could not wait to get back in there with you. The interviews were in the hotel that day and Tom got to the junket room first. When you got there, you handed him a hot cup of tea.
“For you.” You smiled and sat beside him. Tom looked at you curiously and you gestured for him to sip it. He took a sip and widened his eyes when he tasted it.
“This is exactly how I take my tea.” He said incredulous.
“I know. I was listening when you ordered at breakfast yesterday.” You said proudly.
“Thank you, darling. I really appreciate that.” He smiled fondly at you before taking another sip.
“Well I wanted to thank you for all your help yesterday.” You smiled shyly. “I was really nervous yesterday until we talked in the car. You made my first press day really memorable. So I did the normal courtesy of eavesdropping on you and brought you your favorite tea.”
“That was very kind of you. And you made my day yesterday a lot better than I was expecting so I should be thanking you too.”
“Then I’ll loudly tell someone else my favorite way to drink tea so that you can eavesdrop and surprise me.” You joked as the journalist walked in.
“How are you guys doing today?” The journalist asked to start the interview.
“I’m doing really well now that Y/n brought me tea.” Tom answered and took another sip.
“I’m also doing really well but because Tom didn’t bring me tea.” You said and looked at Tom to see if he found it funny.
“Why would that make you happy?” He laughed.
“Because I hate tea.” You shrugged.
“What? Don’t you know that is the worst thing you can say to an English person? And you just told me you had a favorite tea.”
“That was a joke. I actually hate tea.” You admitted.
“How can anyone hate tea?” Tom asked in exasperation.
“It’s just like hot, flavored water. I don’t understand what’s good about it. I hate soup too.“
“Soup too?” Tom gasped and pretended to clutch his petals.
“I think soup is so nasty. Why would I ever want to eat hot blended food?”
“If you hate soup and you hate tea, then what do you do when you’re sick?”
“I watch Fantastic Mr. Fox under my covers like a normal person.” You answered, making him laugh.
“This is very disturbing information to learn so early in the morning. You’ve surprised me, darling.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” You shrugged with a laugh.
The next day, Tom was pleased to see you already waiting in your chair for the interview to start. You were texting on your phone but looked up when he came into the room. Your makeup artists was touching up your lipstick so you couldn’t smile at him and opted for a wink. He found himself blushing at the wink and sat beside you.
“Morning, darling.”
“Good morning. No tea today?” You teased.
“I’ve already had my tea, for your information. I chugged it while I got my makeup done.”
You laughed but he wasn’t actually kidding about getting his makeup done. He was just happy that it made you laugh. Your makeup artists finished up and you checked your makeup in your phone camera.
“You look pretty.” Tom said before he could stop himself. You looked over at him in surprise before smiling.
“Why, thanks. So do you.” You said and shot him another wink. He blushed and looked down at his lap at the compliment.
“God, I’m gonna be thinking about lunch this entire interview.” You whispered to him.
“You didn’t eat at the craft service table?”
“I can’t eat that early in the morning.” You waved your hand. “It makes me nauseous. Now I’m wishing I did though. My kingdom for a cheese stick.”
“I hate cheese.” Tom grimaced.
“What? Even in stick form?” You asked him.
“Even in stick form.” He humored you. “And you can’t judge me because you hate the two most comforting foods on earth.”
“I’m judging you so hard right now.” You mumbled. Tom laughed as an idea came to him.
Before your next interview, Tom made a quick stop at the bakery across the street. You were already in the room waiting to start by the time he got back. He quickly fixed his hair before holding out a little brown paper bag.
“For you.” He said with a bashful smile.
“What is this?” You asked as you took the bag.
“Open it.” He said as he sat beside you. You gave him a curious look before opening the bag.
“Scone?” You gasped and looked up at him.
“Scone!” He smiled proudly.
“You got me a scone? Why?” You wondered and took the stone out of the bag.
“Because it was easier to find than a cheese stick.” He chuckled.
“I love you.” You cupped his chin before taking a bite of the scone. Tom froze and felt his face turn bright red at your words. You realized he had gone quiet and looked over at him.
“Sorry. Was it too soon to say that?” You asked with a mouthful of scone.
“I think so. Aren’t you supposed to wait three months?” He chuckled and touched a cold hand to his burning face.
“Too bad. The introduction of the scone sped up our relationship and now we’re in love.” You shrugged and took another bite. Tom laughed again and looked down at his laugh.
“So, uh, speaking of our relationship. Have you seen the way fans have been shipping us since our last few interviews hit the Internet? How weird is that?” He said and forced a laugh. He didn’t actually find it weird, he just wanted it see how you felt about the possibility of a relationship.
“I was actually deep into the fan edits last night to be perfectly honest with you.” You said through a laugh.
“Were you?” He asked in surprise.
“I was. And I heard that we’ve been secretly dating since May. Did you know that?”
“I did. I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry, darling. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He played along.
“That’s okay. I can’t be mad at you since you blessed me with a scone.”
The journalist came in once you had finished your scone and the interview began. Tom was barely paying attention to the questions and only focused on hearing your answers. He loved that he wasn’t getting to learn new things about you that he was too shy to ask.
“Unpopular opinion?” The journalist asked.
“A lot of people think cats are girls and dogs are boys but the real take here is that all seagulls are boys.”
“Woah, what? What makes all seagulls boys?” Tom asked you.
“A girl would never act like that.” You said simply, making Tom laugh.
“My unpopular opinion is that Y/n’s best movie is Look Mom, No Hands.” Tom said, making you burst out laughing.
“I know you did not just bring up my Disney Chanel original movie from when I was 11.”
“Yes I did. Because I watched it last night and I cried when you made the winning goal even after your glasses broke from the soccer ball hitting you in the face.”
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “The drama.”
“It was! The opposing team totally kicked it into your face on purpose because they knew you were the underdog. But nevertheless, she persisted. You made the winning goal and your team won the championship.”
“Wow. Way to spoil my movie from 15 years ago. And why were you even watching that?”
“Because I needed to know who I was working with everyday. It’s a part of your lore. Now that I know you’ve starred in a DCOM, I know I can trust you.”
“I was not the star. Bridget Mendler was the star. I was just the quirky best friend.” You reminded him, making Tom laugh.
“Well you were the only one I was looking at, okay darling? You were the star for me.” He said as he looked over at you. You smiled at his answer and nodded your head.
“Good answer. Favorite snack?” The journalist asked.
“Oh no. You’re gonna think I’m weird.” You smiled sheepishly.
“What? I could never, darling. What is it?” Tom asked and turned in his chair to face you.
“I put mustard on popcorn.” You grimaced.
“What the hell?” Tom’s nose scrunched in disgust.
“See! I knew you’d think I was a little freak.”
“Mustard? On popcorn? Why would anyone do that?”
“You’re thinking it’s worse than it is. Yellow mustard on lightly salted popcorn is really good, okay? Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“You’re gonna have to make it for me. Because I cannot imagine it’s good.” Tom shook his head.
“If I can get my hands on some mustard during this press tour, I will be at your door in a heartbeat.”
“It’s a date.”Tom replied, making you smile.
“It better be.” You answered, and he returned the smile.
Tom was fully in it now. Every second that he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. You started spending your evenings together and grabbed dinner every night after your interviews. He was falling fast and getting worse and worse at hiding it. He posted a photo of the two of you that the paparazzi had taken while you were out to dinner and captioned it “I’d wait out in the cold all night just to take pictures of her too”. He tagged you and it wasn’t long before you were in his comments saying “he’s so obsessed with me it’s honestly embarrassing”. He smiled at the comment and wrote back “yes, and?” before going to bed.
The press tour was coming to an end and on the last day, Tom walked into the junket room to find only one chair in the room.
“Oh. No Y/n?” Tom asked his manager.
“Nope. Solo interviews today.” They replied. Tom faked a smile and sat in his chair. He hoped his disappointment wasn’t as obvious as it felt as he gave the interview alone. He did a few more solo interviews throughout the day and eventually got to his last one. It wasn’t long before the door opened up and you walked into the room with Tom’s water bottle.
“Hi. I’m crashing. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and walked into the room.
“That’s quite all right. Do you want a chair?” The journalist asked you.
“I’m good.” You smiled politely and sat on Tom’s knee. He immediately blushed and looked up at you.
“What are you doing here, darling?” Tom grinned.
“I finished early so I brought you juice.” You said and handed him the water bottle.
“What? No way.” He smiled in appreciation and opened up the water bottle to see apple juice inside.
“Juice!” You cheered.
“Juice!” He echoed. “Thank you, darling. What a nice surprise.”
“Well I had to get you back for the scone.“ You told him.
“So Tom, I have to ask about your Instagram post from yesterday. You tagged Y/n in an interesting place, Tom. Care to comment on that?” The journalist asked now that you had joined the interview.
“He tagged me there because it’s where you can usually find me.” You chuckled.
“Wait, I’m lost? Where did I tag her?” Tom asked. You and the journalist exchanged a look before you pulled out your phone to show Tom his own post from the night before. He had accidentally tagged you right on his crotch, making him turn red when he saw his mistake. And when he pieced together what you meant by what you had just said, he turned even redder.
“Oh my God. I swear, I’m just Instagram stupid. I didn’t mean to tag her there.” Tom explained.
“Yes he did. He tagged me in my location. Because that’s where I am.” You kept up the joke just to tease him.
“Where?” The journalist laughed.
“On Tom’s dick.” You shrugged. Tom covered his red face with his hands as you and the journalist laughed.
“People know that about me. If they can’t find me, they don’t ask “hey where’s Y/n?” because they already know where I am. It’s my happy place. My sanctuary. My home away from home.” You continued.
“No. No more. My mum watched these.” He playfully scolded you.
“Hey, you started this.” You reminded him.
“And I’m ending it.”
“Actually, I’m the one who has to end it. That’s all the time we have. Thanks guys.” The journalist said. The last interview was done, meaning the press tour was officially over. You stood up and adjusted your skirt before looking at Tom. He smiled softly but felt his disappointment return. The tour was over which meant today was his last day with you. He knew you’d keep in touch, but it would never be like this again, and that’s made him sad.
Instead of wallowing in his sadness, Tom did something about it. He stopped by the corner store before making his way to your hotel room. In his way there, he ran into his brother Harry. Harry took one look at the bag of popcorn in his hands and knew what was happening.
“You fell in love with her, didn’t you?” Harry snorted.
“Shut up.” Tom groaned. “I can still fire you.”
“You did the one thing you said you wouldn’t do. Now look at you. One your way to eat the most American combination of foods I have ever seen. You’re a disgrace to your homeland.”
“I couldn’t help it, okay? She made me fall for her. It’s all her fault, really. Now leave me alone. I have a girl to surprise with a disgusting snack.” Tom said and went on his way. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door. You opened your door for him and he held up his bag of supplies.
“Hey, you. What’s this?”You raised an eyebrow.
“Mustard and popcorn. You little freak.” He said with a teasing smile. Your lips curved into a smile as you stared at him.
“Get in here.” You instructed.
He went into your room and shut the door behind him as you poured the bag popcorn into two bowls. He did his best to hide his disgust as you squirt mustard over them both.
“Here. You’re gonna love this.” You said as you handed him his bowl.
“It smells like mustard.” He grimaced.
“Well, that’s 50% of the ingredients.”
“Okay. I’m doing it. I’m eating one.” He said and popped a mustard covered piece of popcorn into his mouth. You watched him as he chewed it and could tell he hated it.
“Well?” You asked.
“I’m gonna throw up.” He answered.
“Spit it out.” You laughed.
“No. You like this so I’m gonna force myself to like it too.” He said a begrudgingly swallowed the popcorn. You laughed at him but your smile slowly faded and you looked a little upset.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked you.
“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda down tonight.” You told him.
“You are? What’s bothering you?”
“I guess I’m just sad the tours over. I don’t like when things end.” You admitted with a sad smile.
“I’m sad it’s over too. They usually exhaust me but I don’t know. I particularly enjoyed this one.” Tom replied sheepishly without meeting your eyes.
“You did?” You asked as you ate your popcorn.
“I did. Mostly because I enjoyed getting to know you.” He admitted and finally looked up at you. You smiled in surprise and scooted closer to him. Tom gulped and looked down at his lap. The tour was officially over so if he didn’t want you to get on a plane without ever knowing how he felt, he was gonna have to speak now.
“You know, before the tour started, my brother made me promise that I wasn’t gonna fall for you.” Tom admitted.
“What?” You laughed softly. “Why would he make you promise that?”
“I don’t know. He said it would only end in two ways.” Tom said and looked into your eyes with a sheepish smile.
“Which were?” You wondered.
“We get caught up in the excitement of the movie so we start a fling and then breakup when the tour ends.”
“Well that didn’t happen. So what was the other option?”
“I fall for you and never tell you. And the tour ends and you get on a plane and I regret it for the rest of my life. But I guess that option didn’t happen either since I told you.” He said as he never dropped your gaze. You stared into his eyes for a moment as you processed what he had just admitted.
“Well, what if there was a secret third option?”
“Secret third option?” Tom asked with intrigue.
“I mean, just because the tour is ending that doesn’t mean it has to be the end of you and me, does it?” You said and leaned in even closer.
“It doesn’t?” He gulped at your close proximity.
“I don’t think so. And look. You bought me food. That makes this is our first date.” You explained as you held up your bowl of popcorn.
“Well I’m happy to hear that but don’t expect a kiss with your mustard breath.” Tom mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“What was that?” You played along.
“I said you’re so pretty and I have a giant crush on you and want us to be together.” He said quickly.
“Much better.” You smiled and popped some popcorn into your mouth.
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jqngkooz · 6 months
Text
'tis the damn season (1) | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
rating: 18+ (no smut in this chapter though!)
genre: f2l? more like idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut
warnings: the miscommunication in this is so frustrating (sorry 🙃), previous love confessions, unrequited love (not for long), crying, rejection, very pg sexual tension, alcohol
w/c: 2.8k words
a/n: hiii omg okay so this is my first time ever posting something i've written. i've always been a silent reader but i really want to start posting because i love writing. hopefully this is good, hope you enjoy!
summary: When Jimin convinces you to spend christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your entire friend group, you’re forced to face the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for your best friend Jungkook after all these years.
Your parents had never gone away for the holidays. Every year without fail they pull out the itchy christmas jumpers that you and your brother hate so much and cook a ridiculous amount of food. So when they told you they were planning on spending this christmas on a cruise ship around the Caribbean, you were left with nowhere to spend the holidays. Sure, your brother had his wife and kids to spend it with, but you? No one. And now it’s five days before christmas and still with no plans you’re not left with many options. 
“Jimin,” you groan, “I’m looking for serious suggestions here.”
He doesn’t look up from behind the kitchen island as he chops onions.
“I am being serious. You’re not spending christmas alone with your cat and your vibrator, come with us”
You slump further down into the couch, weighing up your options. Spending christmas alone at your age is embarrassing. The fact that you don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t had one in months is embarrassing enough on its own. But having to see Jungkook again was by far the worst-case scenario. 
Jimin puts the knife down, wipes his hands on his apron and comes behind the couch, gently massaging your shoulders. 
“Please come. It’ll be so nice. Tae’s aunt has the nicest cabin in the mountains. We can get shitfaced, roast marshmallows, hell I’ll even watch one of those crappy Hallmark movies you love”
He leans down, forehead on your shoulder and puts on his sweetest voice as you sigh.
“Pleaseeee, you won’t even notice he’s there” 
The last time you saw Jungkook he had turned up at your door, shaking from the rain. 
“Jungkook? What are you doing here? It’s freezing”
You drag him out of the September chill as he steps into your apartment, big black boots treading muddy water on your floor tiles. 
He sighs, “Don’t marry him.”
His eyes are big and glossy, staring down at you in the twinkly way they always do.
“Jimin told me he proposed. Don’t say yes. Well I mean obviously you already said yes,” He rambles, glancing down at the ring on your finger as he nervously bounces on the balls of his feet, “but take it back.”
You must look absolutely dumbfounded, watching in confusion as he stands in your hallway soaking wet and pleading. 
You shake your head, “No, you can’t do this right now. Are you seriously doing this right now?”
You laugh dryly.
“I can’t believe you. I thought you liked Mark I don’t- I don’t understand”
He takes his bottom lip between his teeth. His nerves running rampant. He knows he has no right at all to spring this on you but he can’t watch you get engaged to this guy that he knows isn’t right for you. He knows that he should have confessed earlier, years earlier. He’s had the chance to tell you since high school and he never did, he was always so afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.
“I do like him, he’s fine. But I can’t- fuck I can’t let you get married to him without you knowing how I feel. You know I’ve always had a thing for you, you’re not stupid. And god, I know this is a bad time but if I don’t say this now I’ll never get the chance to”
No, no, no. 
“Please don’t say it” You practically beg. 
“I love you. I always have.”
He’s utterly desperate, he’s sure he looks foolish, but he doesn’t care right now. 
“I’m in love with you” He repeats.
That night you had turned him away, back into the cold. Jungkook wasn’t much of a crier but his bottom lip wobbled as he stood staring at your front door. It’s not that he expected you to just drop everything, drop Mark, and fall into his arms, but he hadn’t exactly expected you to turn him away either. He stopped hanging out with Jimin and Yoongi after that, too afraid to see you again. He wouldn’t know what to say if he did, ‘Sorry for telling you I love you the day you got engaged’? 
“He won’t want me there, Jimin. He hasn’t spoken to me in months, it’ll be awkward.” You groan, resting your head against his.
He chuckles, “You two have got to just get over it. You’re adults for god’s sake. You bickered all the time in high school but you always made up. Please, I really want you there, it won’t be fun without you”
Goddamn Jimin and his persuasiveness. 
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Somehow, you find yourself piling into Tae’s car. Yoongi slings all of your bags into the trunk before sliding into the backseat next to you. 
“Namjoon is bringing Seokjin, Hobi and Jungkook. He said they should arrive around 5 ish so, just a little after us” Tae says. Your stomach turns, what do you even say to him? If you attempt to make conversation you’re certain he won’t reciprocate but if you ignore him that’s even worse. And unfortunately, you love your friends and there’s no way you’ll be the one to ruin this trip for them by making things awkward.
“God I’m so ready for some actual fun. I’m surprised work even let me have christmas off, it’s a nice change not being treated like a slave for once.”
He lays his head back and closes his eyes. 
“Nice to know at least one of us is gonna be having a nice time. This is gonna be hell.” You retort.
Tae adjusts the rearview mirror as Jimin hops into the passenger seat before he speaks, “You’ll be fine. You’ll make up, hold hands, maybe fuck it out. Stop worrying” 
“Hey,” he adds “If Jungkook’s not willing to, I will”
Jimin grimaces, “You’re sick."
When you arrive, the cabin is huge, a mix of wood and sleek whiteness. Fairy lights twinkle around the outside of the house, reflecting off of the snow. 
“Holy shit,” Yoongi squints out of the car window, “This place is amazing, what the hell does your aunt do for work?”
Tae shrugs as he parks up and the engine turns off, “I don’t know, something for the government. She’s not allowed to tell us or some shit”
The boys begin taking the bags into the cabin and dumping them in the hallway. 
“Someone needs to get us some food. My aunt said she left some cans and stuff but nothing perishable so.” Tae shouts from the kitchen as he rummages through the cupboards.
You take in the cabin. It’s impeccably clean, with a fireplace below the ridiculously huge TV and a cream couch in front of it. The walls in the living room are painted a forest green and littered with mismatching photo frames filled with old pictures of Taehyung’s cousins and family. 
“You were so cute Tae,” You shout back, leaning closer to a baby picture of him standing on the beach, cheesing at the camera, “What happened?”
“You’re going to the supermarket for that.” He quips.
But you don’t mind, you want to see the town anyway. You love the snow and have always dreamed of living way off the grid in a place like this. Sure, the city is great, all busy and fast and full of light but there’s something about a place like this in the middle of nowhere that you love. Maybe one day when you have kids of your own you’ll move out of the city and into somewhere like this. God knows you don’t want to raise them in the city. 
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You feel like your fingers are going to fall off. Your nose is probably an embarrassing shade of red and you feel like your eyes might actually get iced shut soon. The supermarket is warm, thank god, and you glance down at the shopping list. 
Don’t forget wine!!! Is scribbled at the bottom, with a small smiley face. 
You have no idea what wine everyone likes, or if they even all like the same wine so you grab a few red and white, along with some chocolate that you’re ready to stash in your room for yourself.
“Sorry, can I just get to the-”
A figure squeezes in front of you, reaching up to grab a bottle of wine. You’d recognise that tattooed hand anywhere. You step back, squeaking out a “sure” that has his head whipping around at the sound of your voice. 
“Sorry, I- I didn’t recognise you. Your hair it’s um, shorter” He’s biting his lip. It’s a nervous habit he has, like how he fiddles with his fingers when he’s sad or grins with those bunny teeth when he’s really happy. 
On the contrary, his hair is longer, falling down in dark waves that frame his face and partially cover his ears. His lip shimmers with a silver ring, that’s new. 
“Oh yeah that’s okay, it is.” You reply, looking down at your shoes like an idiot. 
A beat passes. The supermarket isn’t busy and there’s no other shoppers to help cushion the awkward silence. No one comes down the aisle. 
He clears his throat, “It’s really nice to see you. How have you been?”
You had thought about this moment a million times over in your head, wondering if he’d be cold, mad, anything. But he’s not. Of course he’s not because he’s Jungkook. The same shy, 15-year-old you met in math class, who whispered the answer to you when he saw the panicked look on your face. He’s probably the kindest guy you know, you’re certain there's not a bad bone in his body. 
“Um, I’ve been good yeah. What about you?” 
There’s an unfamiliar space between you as you both stand a few feet away. It’s weird. He’s always been a touchy guy, never hesitating to hug you or stand close to you. Seeing him for the first time in months makes you realise how much you miss it all. Even his annoying inability to walk in a straight line, always leaning into you and accidentally pushing you into the road doesn’t seem so annoying right now. 
He takes a sharp breath in as you look up at him.
“Yeah I’ve been okay” He starts, “I’m guessing they sent you out for food too?”
He glances down at your basket. 
“Yeah, I’m on turkey, veg and wine duty.” You say with a small laugh. He can’t believe how much he’s missed that sound, his stomach turning. Of course he had to ruin what you had by telling you he loved you. He must have replayed that scene every night in his head, cursing himself for being such a selfish idiot. 
“Ah I’m on snack duty, just thought I should pick up some wine but I see you’ve got that covered.” He smiles. That damn smile.
Another awkward silence. 
“You never called.” You blurt out.
He seems a little taken aback, not expecting you to talk about it so soon. He thought maybe you’d pretend that it never happened. He shifts his weight onto his other leg. The basket feels heavy and he swears he’s sweating under the bright lights. 
“I didn’t know what to say. You didn’t exactly wanna talk to me that night. I thought it was better to give you space”
You purse your lips into a fine line, nodding. 
“I’m sorry,” You might as well lay it all out on the table now, “about everything. I should have called too. I just want this christmas to be nice and I don’t wanna make It awkward for the rest of the guys. I just um, I just wanna be normal again. With you”
You screw one of your eyes shut, bracing for his response. He nods.
“Agreed. And I’m sorry too. Really fucking sorry.” He laughs shyly, “Say the word and it’s forgotten.” 
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It’s almost completely dark when you get back, pushing the cabin’s door open. The fireplace is on and the house is loud with laughter. Jimin and Namjoon are standing in the kitchen, the rest in the living room watching a football game. 
“Namjoon’s car’s here!” Jimin says happily as you step inside, shaking off the snow. Jungkook follows behind you, closing the door. 
“I know.” You shoot Jimin a look as his eyes flicker between you and Jungkook both holding shopping bags. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Sorry, I didn’t know we sent both of you…miscommunication I guess” Jimin says sheepishly. 
Once the shopping is put away and the fireplace has finally defrosted you, Hobi brings out the board games. You munch on some pretzels as you all sit on the floor huddled around a Monopoly board. 
“You’re totally cheating- he’s totally cheating!” Seokjin sighs out of frustration. 
“No, I’m fucking not,” Hobi’s eyes go wide at the accusation. “I had a get out of jail free card.” 
“You already used it!” Jimin and Tae say in unison, bursting out laughing. It’s nice, being together as a group again. Yours and Jungkook's fight, if you could even call it that, meant that the whole group hadn’t been together in a while. Even now as everyone argues it’s nice, it’s familiar. As if he can hear your thoughts, Jungkook leans towards you and says quietly, 
“This is nice. Reminds me of when we all used to play uno during our lunch periods. You always used to peek at my cards.”
You look at him in shock, “You knew about that? I thought I was sneaky.”
He chuckles, his shoulders bouncing up and down in the fitted black shirt he’s wearing. He’s gotten buffer in those three months you haven’t seen him and you’re wondering how his sleeves aren’t bursting at the seams. 
“Of course I knew, I just always let you win because it made you happy.”
You laugh at that. To him, you’ve gotten impossibly prettier since the last time he saw you. It’s like your eyes have gotten bigger and rounder and your smile even wider. If he’s gonna be honest with himself, he’s still in love with you. How could he not be? He has been since he was 16, but something always got in the way. A college boyfriend of yours or his job or a girlfriend of his or your fiancé. Every time he felt like you two might be getting close something came in the way. Library study sessions where your hands would brush against each other and neither of you would pull away, or nights where you’d turn up at his dorm in tears over a stupid boy that hadn’t treated you right, and he’d gotten so close to just kissing you. He was afraid to ruin the friendship you had, always pulling back before it got too real and turning to flings and hook-ups to try and dull the ache in his chest that only you could relieve. 
“I really missed you,” he says before correcting himself, “missed being friends with you. I’m sorry that I messed everything up. I wish I could go back and just, not turn up that night.” He runs a hand through his hair, “I shouldn’t have interfered with your relationship, no matter how I felt. I just really want you to know that I’m sorry.”
Your chest warms but his use of the word ‘felt’ isn’t lost on you. You hadn’t expected him to still feel the same way but it still stings.  “I missed you too Jungkook. I felt so stupid after I closed the door on you, I should have just heard you out and listened. Mark and I were never going to work out anyway.” You laugh awkwardly and take a sip of your wine. 
He nods, “I know but it still wasn’t right. I was an idiot. No feelings are worth losing a friendship over. At least that’s all in the past now right?”
Right, definitely in the past. Your stomach’s definitely not in a knot right now, twisting and turning at the smell of his aftershave as he leans next to you so close that you can feel his body heat. Those feelings are definitely in the past as you look into his big eyes, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire behind you. 
You gulp, “Yeah.”
The doorbell rings, stopping your conversation with Jungkook and the ridiculous argument about whether or not Hoseok is cheating. Jungkook stands up, jogging towards the door. 
Jimin looks at you confused as if you have the answer. You shrug, everyone’s attention is on the door. 
“Guys this is Isabelle. I thought it’d be cool if she stayed for a few days.”
The girl stands in the hallway, pretty and well put together as she sends you all a small wave. Jungkook looks down at her with a smile, squeezing her shoulder. There’s an awkward silence, no one really knowing what to say.
You feel like your heart has dropped so far that it might be in your ass. 
621 notes · View notes
toast-on-dandelioms · 5 months
Note
Regarding my last ask how does the batfam react to Venom? Like how do they interact with them? Also how did it look from another perspective? The Spider having a new look and abilities and acting in a new way.
That's also a good question! (Basically everything you ask me will be a good question because it gives me more ideas)
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I will do every character in the story so far and explain their first reaction and then how they would act with Venom as they get used to him.
Clark Kent: he would be the first one you show Venom after getting to know him and trusting him enough.
Plus, after he refused to make Batman meet you again after you refused when he proposed it made you feel appreciated and you knew you could trust him with Venom.
Venom also trusted him and was friendly with him, something new since Venom was usually hostile with everyone, including you the first month you two were together before warming up to you.
He's usually a snarky little brat whenever Clark tries to start a speech about Justice, just to mess with him since he knows Clark can hear him.
Plus Venom would just laugh whenever he and Clark would argue while you would eat something, loving how easy it was to rile Clark up.
Clark, the first time he met Venom, was a bit surprised at such alien and especially the new abilities it came with, surprised such blob like creature was so advanced in speech and abilities.
He did try to separate the two of you before understanding that Venom was like another part of you that cannot be removed, especially since you refused to let go of Venom after spending so much time with him.
He's also incredibly weirded out when he saw your form when Venom takes over, too used to your shorter form (since Clark is freaking tall and you're still a teen), plus all the black goo that Venom uses to move around like you makes him a bit disgusted but would never say it to your face.
He does not mind Venom after getting to know him, but does get angry whenever Venom would make fun of him or his speeches even though he never gets so mad to say something offensive since he knows Venom respects him. (You told him that when Venom was distracted, but got a bit of an earful by him after he found out).
He is one of the people Venom actually listens to and gets easily manipulated by when you get hurt, making him believe that staying with the Waynes with you and making you weak so you wouldn't escape, would be for the best.
(Clark also got manipulated since he wanted to take you home with him and his sons, but compromised to be able to visit whenever he wants because he thought you staying there was the best option)
Bruce Wayne: ok so, Bruce will find out about Venom when he first met Spider aka you in part 3.
How did he meet Venom? Basically when you grab Tim with your webs changes into Venom that grabs Tim, staying hidden for a bit before coming out to taunt Bruce when you refused his proposal.
After he finds out who you are behind the mask and gets overprotective over you, Venom usually annoys him or taunts him when you're forced to spend time with him to make up for the fact that he didn't before.
He would never respect Bruce, not after what he saw from your memories and how you were treated for years while Bruce would treat him like an annoying mosquito that flies in your room at night.
Bruce would hate Venom sometimes, especially when he sees you talk with Venom with such happiness in your eyes but when you're with him, you're usually with a dead expression and never say anything.
He would be so jealous of Venom and how you acted so close with him but would act like you were dead when spending time with your father.
When he did see Venom in his full form when you needed to go to bed but was stuck on the couch with Dick and Tim trying to cuddle with you, it shocked him.
He was glad he managed to manipulate the alien so he could keep you in the Manor or he knew he couldn't stop the alien, at least until he knew everything about it and all his weaknesses.
Dick Grayson: the rest of the batkids will also learn about Venom the same time Bruce does so I'll start from then so I don't repeat it.
Dick would be amazed by the alien, even though he knew Kori/Starfire (not sure on her name so I put both) but the alien form you were fused with was far more interesting.
He did get scared when Tim suddenly get caught in Venom's webs/goo, not thinking you would attack or even notice them since they were trained to be as silent as a ninja.
He does get along with Venom by giving him brains from gangsters that dared to hurt you when you were still a vigilante, plus he used Venom as a way to hide the evidence whenever he killed someone.
(You would always be sleeping when Venom would eat people and he would make sure you never knew)
He doesn't mind Venom and they're friends, plus he gets an advantage with you since Venom slowly manipulates you to see Dick as a brother and not an enemy.
Overall, Dick wouldn't mind Venom and actually be one of the ones to use him for their advantage with you, since the others aren't really good with Venom or you hate them and Venom does too.
Jason Todd: he's similar to Dick since he fight gangsters everyday and does kill them so he brings the remains to Venom when you're asleep and Venom took over.
He would spoil you and Venom to the max, giving you everything you wished for even if it was something you wanted when you were 12.
Venom likes him because he and Jason love taunting Bruce and making him feel bad, while you just stay on the side or sleeping since Venom takes over mostly when you sleep so you won't complain about what he does.
Plus, Jason is one of the brothers you actually spend time with since he doesn't try to invade your personal space like Dick, and just spends time with you even if you both are just reading in a comfortable silence.
Jason treats you and Venom like normal, not really giving off that he's a yandere even though Venom knows he's one of the ones to manipulate you in small ways because after all, he's also Bruce's son.
Tim Drake: he's a bit difficult to understand since he acts normal, like when you didn't even exists in his life, but he did change a bit.
He spends more time with you and Venom, mostly with you three in his room watching him work or you ignoring him as he tries to talk to you, even using Venom to cover your ears.
Venom and Tim are on ok terms, Venom doesn't hate the guy but also doesn't really like him. They're both neutral and act civil whenever they talk while you do your thing.
He doesn't really react when Venom takes over, acts normal while also studying Venom to see if he had any weaknesses so he could exploit them if necessary.
Damian Wayne: oh Venom hates him and it's reciprocated since Damian also detest the alien form that is fused with you.
He did try to find ways to separate the two of you but stopped when Bruce and Clark informed him that you were fused with Venom to the point you two would die if you get separated.
He hates the alien since whenever he tries to impress you, he's there to annoy him or taunt him with what he did to you in the past.
He also hates how he can't spar with you because of the alien since he makes you weakened and slower, so the fight wouldn't even be fair and Damian wants it to be fair so he can show off how good he is.
He doesn't care about how Venom looks, he just hates him even if he's ugly but can't really say anything to you since you also hate him and don't want to spend time with him.
He does know it's his own fault for treating you so bad for years, especially whenever he sees your scars that were caused by him but prefers to blame Venom for making you against him.
Overall, everyone does accept Venom except for Bruce and Damian but they can't really do much about it.
Part 1 to the ask about Venom is here!
Sorry for taking so long for it, hope you like it!
For the divider you can go to @saradika-graphics! She does amazing dividers!
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moon1833 · 13 days
Text
Haikyuu! Boyfriend headcannons! Part 2
Seijoh, Nekoma, and Fukurōdani
IWAIZUMI
Unrequited/requited love/miscommunication (sorry)!
Had class together.
Thought you were one of Oikawa’s fan girls trying to get closer to him for his best friend at first since Oikawa was right next to him.
You genuinely just didn’t know what the homework was.
Had no idea he was even on the volleyball team until you heard him talking to his friend in class.
He always thought you were beautiful, but he didn’t bother attempting anything.
You started talking to him in class a little, but he was still unsure about your intentions.
You thought it was funny how he was always yelling at his friend.
The first time you laughed at Iwaizumi calling him “Shitty-kawa” he completely froze up from shock.
Knew he was in too deep at that point.
He told Oikawa about his feelings for you and he took at as an opportunity to get to know you, too.
You thought he was nice, but you were interested in Iwaizumi.
Asked Oikawa to help set you up
He took match making very seriously.
However, Iwaizumi saw you two talking and texting more and just assumed he was right all along.
Started a rift between him and Oikawa, Iwaizumi confronted him eventually.
Oikawa came clean about everything.
Iwaizumi told him he wanted to get to know you at your own pace but he appreciates the effort.
He starts talking to you more.
Knowing you liked him made him insanely nervous he could barely string a sentence together.
Oikawa didn’t tell you that he knew you liked him.
He invites you to a game.
You’re cheering for him as loud as you can since everyone else was cheering for Oikawa.
“He’s overrated.” You told him after the game. “I thought you were much more interesting to watch.”
He almost kissed you right there in the middle of the gym, ignoring Oikawa complaining about how ‘mean’ you were to him.
Asked you if you wanted to grab ice cream after the game.
You say yes obviously.
You spent at least 15 consecutive minutes telling him how awesome the game was.
He was bright red the whole time.
Slyly bought your ice cream before you could even think about getting your wallet.
“There’s a little ice cream on your face.”
“Oh,” you wipe your face, embarrassed. “did I get it?”
“Can I?” you nod.
He takes his thumb and wipes the bottom of your lips (there was no ice cream on your face).
You closed the distance, unable to handle how he was looking at you
Ice cream was suddenly his favorite dessert.
Favorite past time as a couple was making fun of Oikawa (who insisted on third wheeling both of you).
Light PDA as much as he can.
Hand on your thigh whenever you’re sitting next to each other, or around your shoulder.
He loves showing you off.
He’s very gentle with you.
Kisses your face all the time whenever you’re cuddling.
OIKAWA
Fake dating/drunk confessions (very slight grumpy x sunshine if you squint)!
You were team manager for Seijoh.
You had no problem with Oikawa, but it did annoy you that you had to deal with the swarm of fangirls almost every day.
You had an intimidating aura, so they backed off when you were around.
He wouldn’t admit it, but the girls approaching him daily bothered him too more than it flattered him.
He also felt bad constantly rejecting girl after girl because he wanted to focus on volleyball.
He proposed the idea of a fake relationship to you.
You were opposed to it at first, you didn’t want to get killed by a crazy fangirl.
He said he “wouldn’t let that happen.”
You told him if it was up to him to protect you, you were screwed.
He asked you to think it over.
You weighed your options, you were constantly hit on from other teams and decided it’d be a good idea.
He hugged you and lifted you up when you told him.
Decided the only people who would know it was fake was Iwaizumi.
Which meant even in practice you had to pretend.
Oikawa was a good actor, he was constantly wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.
It was hard to stay unbothered by it and make it seem like it was normal.
Iwaizumi almost forgot it was fake.
Oikawa had just gotten used to kissing your cheek goodbye, he kept doing it even when no one was around.
He started realizing he was developing real feelings for you after you showed up to practice in his jacket with his name on it.
Even though it was planned, it was impossible for him to think about anything but you in his clothes for a few nights.
You realized you were falling for him when he fell asleep on your head while sitting next to you on the bus after a game.
He smelled good.
At a house party celebrating another win for Seijoh, you both showed up together.
You both drank a little too much, and the casual arm around your shoulder as you both spoke to the group on the couch had you leaning into him.
As more people sat down around you both you ended up on his lap.
He sneakily kept kissing your neck.
Got to a point where you were dragging him somewhere deeper into the house.
Momentarily thought you were about to chew him out or that he overstepped.
Last thing he was expecting was for you to use his collar to bring his face to your level and kiss him, backing him against a wall.
“I wish this was real.” He mumbled practically into your mouth.
“Look around.” You replied, running your hands through his hair. “Who am I faking this for?”
Neither of you forgot the next morning.
However, you were too scared to talk about it with him.
Regardless, Oikawa showed up at your door at 10 in the morning (as soon as he woke up) with breakfast and coffee.
You had just finished throwing up and wanted to again at the sight of him in your kitchen with his glasses.
He admitted he was starting to want a real relationship with you, but understood if you didn’t mean anything by your actions last night.
“If I didn’t feel like I was dying right now I’d kick you.”
Started dating for real after that.
He is always tickling you.
CONSTANT PDA.
If you thought it was bad before it’s even worse now.
His fangirls cannot stand you so he’s always with you.
Always a hickey on his neck.
He purposely wears shirts that reveal it.
BOKUTO
Opposites/tutor x student!
You had Trig together.
You sat in the back of the room and never really spoke.
Bokuto would ask questions so frequently the teacher would call on him even if he didn’t raise his hand.
Class would laugh at him but he genuinely didn’t understand the work.
Your teacher offered you (who was at the top of the class) to tutor him for extra credit.
You agreed.
The first time he came to the library for your first session he loudly declared how pretty you were.
You were caught off guard, flushing red as Bokuto apologized.
Found out that he just had a short attention span but he could focus if he really tried.
Constantly changing the subject to talk to you.
Started walking you to class (he was late to his own classes)
Begged you to come to his matches.
Out of curiosity you did (you wanted to see him play).
He shouted your name and waved at you the moment you walked in, telling his entire team you were here.
He was on 1000% the whole time, showing off as much as he could.
Ran up to you as soon as the game was done to ask you if you thought he played well.
Akaashi came to pull him back, apologizing.
You called him that night to tell him he played well.
Ended up on the phone with him until 4am.
Continued to tutor him, even though he eventually got kicked out of the library for being too loud.
Now studied at his house or yours.
He did not get any work done when he was in your room for the first time (he hadn’t seen you in comfy clothes before, either).
Purposefully left his hoodie at your house so you’d have to visit him at practice and give it back to him.
Partially wanted you to keep it.
When he passed his trig test for the first time, you hugged him from excitement.
He was so excited he picked you up and spun you around.
You volunteered for the summer training camp as a nurse (Bokuto asked you to with puppy eyes).
He would purposely get hurt so you’d have to help him.
Would get dramatically jealous if you were tending to another guy.
Kuroo flirted with you in an attempt to get Bokuto to admit that he liked you.
Bokuto just scooped you up and walked away.
When wrapping his fingers for the third time even though he didn’t need it, he asked you to “kiss it better”.
You rolled your eyes at him before kissing his cheek.
“If this will stop you from jamming your fingers intentionally, then sure.”
Ran back into the gym yelling to Kuroo that you kissed him.
You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way home.
It was the longest anyone on the team had seen him be quiet.
At your next study session, you’d rearward him for each question answered correctly with another kiss on the cheek.
Suddenly was an academic weapon.
Would giggle after each one.
Gently kissed him on the lips that day at the end of the worksheet you made for him.
Ended up on your bed.
He talks about you to everyone.
Asked you if he could be your boyfriend.
Loves to lay on top of you.
You’re the only person who could get him out of “emo mode”.
He loves picking you up.
AKAASHI
Childhood friends to lovers/young love!
You met Akaashi when you were in elementary school, you were seat buddies.
You were both on the quieter side, he was overall introverted while you were just nervous.
Bonded over a box of crayons.
You came out of your shell more as you got older.
Were inseparable.
Always holding his hand.
Everyone always teased you two.
We’re each other’s first kisses at the age of 10 because you wanted to know what it felt like.
Supported him more than anyone else through volleyball.
He knew he always liked you, but didn’t want to compromise the friendship.
Bokuto convinces him to confess.
You return his feelings to his surprise.
You were both young (in middle school) when you told each other you had feelings for each other, so you didn’t really seriously date for a few years.
Maybe argued once in your whole relationship.
He’s very understanding.
Knows you better than you do.
He proposes right after graduation.
Long engagement because you’ve “waited this long”.
We’re practically married before you were married.
Bokuto’s your practice kid.
KUROO
Fated lovers!
Met him by ‘accident’.
Your cat had run out your front door, you were looking for him.
You find him nuzzled into some guys arms at the park he usually ran off to.
You’re so happy you found him you almost forget to thank Kuroo, who found your cat.
He thought that was cute.
You’re walking away, still talking to your cat before you noticed his presence.
You bowed, thanking him repeatedly.
He wanted to ask for your number right then and there but you were already running off.
Went to the same school, but Nekoma was so big you never saw him before.
Ran into him one morning on the train.
He gave up his seat for you to sit, and you spent the rest of the trip talking to each other.
Gives you the nickname “Kitty”.
You hate it (you love it).
Introduces you to Kenma, who takes a liking to you.
Kuroo gets jealous of how much nicer he is to you than him.
Started walking to the train station together every morning.
You fall asleep on him almost every time.
He’s worried you’re not sleeping well now (you will not hear the end of it).
One morning, there was no room to sit so you were both forced to stand, using the pole for balance.
Someone knocks into you, sending you roughly into Kuroo.
He snaps at the person who shoved you to watch it before holding you by the waist protectively.
You couldn’t string a thought together for a few moments.
The SMOOTHEST in asking you out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t.” You tilt your head at him in confusion. “It’s Friday.”
“I know, I’ll pick you up at 3. Dress cute.”
Took you to a cat cafe because he just “had to”.
Holds your hands through crowds or has a hand on the small of your back.
Very gentlemanly.
You kiss his cheek when telling him goodnight.
Thinks about it all weekend.
The next time he sees you he kisses you as soon as he gets close enough to “even the score”.
Shows you off whenever he possibly can.
Always standing behind you with a hand on your waist.
Extremely ticklish.
Like all you have to do is poke his side and he’s squealing.
You use that to your advantage.
Absolutely showers you in gifts.
320 notes · View notes
aemondsquill · 1 year
Text
Across The Stars
Aemond Targaryen × Niece!Reader
Synopsis: Reader delivers a marriage proposal to Lord Borros, Aemond does not take kindly to it.
Warnings: smut, violence, canon divergence, angst ofc, Aemond is mean during some parts, imprisonment, misogyny, abuse, lmk if I missed any
A/N: sorry bout the wait, gang! School has been kicking my ass lately but I promise more frequent updates from now on!
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Thick swirling clouds blanketed the skies above Storm' End as Y/N dismounted her beast. The mighty Cannibal's throat rumbled in uncertainty at the situation. The spark of lighting across the gray sky illuminated Vhagar's monstrous form, which did nothing to ease his tension. Y/N rested a hand over his scaly snout in assurance. There would be no fighting today as she had only been sent as an envoy and surely even her uncle Aemond could respect that, he was slave to propriety, after all.
Y/N took a moment to gather her thoughts. Her fingers trembled at her sides as anxiety riddled her mind. She took a breath. 'Mother needs this alliance', she reminded herself. With a sharp exhale she pulled her heavy woolen cloak tighter around her and approached the guards.
Their shiny silver helmets seemed dull under the clouds and their faces were pinched in confusion.
"State your business!" Shouted a guard. His voice was as gruff as his appearance. It appeared as though he had not had a restful sleep in quite some time.
"I have a message for Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra, Ser." Y/N replied confidently. She held out a scroll with the Queen's waxy seal stamped upon it. The guard glanced at it and motioned for the door to be opened. A group of men escorted her into the keep.
"Princess Y/N Velaryon, daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen!"
Y/N's eyes followed the foreboding stone walls until they met Aemond's. Her breath caught in her throat and a sliver of pain struck her heart as she saw him next to Lord Borros's daughter. Her mind could not rid itself of the secret kisses and soft embraces they shared so long ago back when they were mere children, a time when war wasn't even a thought in their heads. Surely even he could not have forgotten her so easily?
Y/N rid herself of her foolish thoughts. She could not dwell on the past and she had a mission now.
"Lord Borros, I have brought you a message from my mother, the Queen." Y/N spoke.
"Yet earlier today I received a message from the King. Which is it? King or Queen?" Lord Borros mused, though the humor did not reach his eyes. "The house of the dragon does not seem to know who rules it!", the man chuckled, "what's your mother's message?" A guard grabbed the sealed letter out of Y/N's hand and presented it to Lord Borros. He held it for a moment before calling out for a maester.
An old maester scurried to his side and unsealed the letter, glancing at it briefly before leaning towards the Lord's ear.
Lord Borros's face crumpled into anger. "Remind me of my father's oath?" He seethed. Y/N slightly grimaced at his tone. Her heart sank as she realized she was out of options.
"King Aegon at least came with an of-"
"I offer you my own hand, my Lord." The court was silent at Y/N's bold proposal. She could feel Aemond's sharp stare burning into her, but she refused his eye. Shame prickled her spine and tears felt heavy behind her eyes. Lord Borros seemed to be lost for words, but his face held an expression of intrigue.
"You are offering me your hand in marriage, girl? Your mother is that desperate for my alliance that she'd give up her precious daughter?" He spoke. Y/N clasped her hands together to hide their trembling and swallowed thickly, "My Lord, war calls for desperate measures. I do not give my hand lightly, but I believe you and I would make a formidable match. With me at your side you would gain the Cannibal, one of the most fearsome dragons alive, and you would gain the favor of the Queen. Our marriage would promise you a position on the Small Council as well as an expansion of your lands. Your daughters would be given suitable matches, much more lucrative than the hand of a second son with no lands." Y/N spared a glance at Aemond, who was seething next to his betrothed.
Lord Borros sat back comfortably on his throne and thought of his options.
"Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond, please join us for dinner tonight. I shall allow both of you to plea for your cause and I will make a decision on the morrow. It would be an honor to host a prince and princess of the Realm." He smirked. Y/N nearly rolled her eyes at his invitation, but suppressed the urge with a tight smile.
"It would be an honor, my Lord."
----
Lord Borros was generous enough to provide the prince and princess their own quarters for the night. Y/N sank into a soft velvety settee in front of the roaring fireplace. She sighed heavily and watched the rain pelt against the ornate glass windows heavily. A maid left a few moments ago to fetch her a proper gown for the dinner.
A heaviness settled into her chest at the thought of entertaining Lord Borros tonight. If she plays her part well enough, then she will be bound to him until death. She let a tear slip down her cheek at the thought of her demise. Hopefully he would be an indifferent husband. He had a slew of daughters already so all she had to do was provide an heir or two to make him happy.
A rapid series of knocks yanks Y/N out of her trance. She sits up and wipes her tears away before smoothing the skirts of her dress.
"Come in!" She called out. Still she sat facing the fire, "just place it on the bed. I can put it on myself."
"Do you enjoy whoring yourself out, dear niece?" A cold voice traveled through the room. Y/N stood abruptly and turned to face the man.
"Aemond..." Y/N breathed out.
"It seems you take after your whore mother." Anger spiked inside Y/N. "My mother is not a whore and she will have your treacherous head on a spike next to the usurper!"
"Such harsh words, niece. That is no way to speak to your Prince."
"Why did you come here, uncle? I do not want your company."
Aemond glared at her for a moment, his temper rising.
"Surely Lord Borros would not take some bastard whore as a wife! Tell me, sweet niece, does your future husband know of the kisses we shared? I doubt he'd take you as his bride knowing you no longer have your maidenhead." His cruel taunts rang in her ears and tears sprung to her eyes. He stalked forward towards a trembling Y/N, reveling in the tears she shed.
"My maidenhead is still intact! We never laid together and you know that! Why are you being so cruel to me?" Y/N sobbed. She hated the power he had over her, even with his cruel words. Aemond reached out and stroked her cheek, catching a tear on his finger. Slowly he brought the finger to his mouth and groaned lowly at the salty taste of her anguish.
"A mere whisper of your tarnished virtue could destroy your betrothal before it begins" Aemomd threatened. Lust and anger sparkled in his eye as he pushed her against the wall and breathed in the scent of her slender neck. Y/N shuddered as his nose made contact with her skin, gooseflesh pebbling in its wake.
"Or perhaps I shall take you right here against this wall and put my bastard in your belly. Wouldn't you like that, sweet niece?" Aemond crooned in her ear. Y/N shook her head fiercely, "no! Aemond, please do not do this! I am under Lord Borros's protection and you cannot harm me!"
Aemond paused as he surveyed the room.
"Lord Borros is not here, niece, and I know you have not forgotten your affection for me" His slender fingers hiked up the skirts of her dress and stroked her squishy thighs. He closed his eye and groaned at the contact.
"But I am not cruel, my love. I will not take you unwillingly as I am cursed with affection for you as well." He whispered softly. Without a second glance, Aemond rushed out of the room and left Y/N in turmoil. She collapsed to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of tears. She hated Aemond. She hated the way he could taunt her so cruelly, yet fill her with such yearning for his affection. Being with him hurt her in the most delicious possible way.
-----
The dinner was enveloped in a stony silence. The only sound was the clinking of silverware. Fat slabs of beef and pork lay on silver platters flanked by flaky breads and fire-roasted vegetables. Y/N stirred a spiced soup numbly as she sat next to Lord Borros and across from her uncle. Floris Baratheon was beside him and attempted to make any form of conversation. Unfortunately for her, Aemond One-Eye was not known for being so courteous. Instead, his cold violet eye was locked onto Y/N.
"Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond, I humbly thank the both of you for attending this dinner. I wish we could welcome the both of you into our family, but that is not the nature of war, is it?" Lord Borros spoke. Y/N met his eyes and acknowledged him slightly. She took a breath before downing her goblet of wine. She would require much more if she was to build up the courage to persuade Borros to marry her.
"Please, my Lord, the honor is all mine. It is a pleasure to be welcomed into your home." Y/N smiled broadly. From the corner of her eye she could see Aemond grip his utensils until his knuckles turned white. She smirked and continued to gaze into Lord Borros's eyes, "I would be pleased to be betrothed to such a fearsome man such as yourself."
Lord Borros took a swig of mead as Y/N honeyed words melted into his ears. He grinned at her as his eyes swirled with lust.
"Men from every corner of the Realm would envy me for having such a beautiful young bride on my arm. The bedding ceremony would be such a site for them to see!" Aemond nearly choked on his wine at Borros's words. All eyes were on him and he looked at Y/N. Despite her grin, he could see the fear behind her lilac eyes. Vicious hatred made his hands tremble.
Finally, he looked away and gazed at the beautiful Floris Baratheon. Only animosity and hurt fueled his words. "You have the sweetest lips of all your sisters, my Lady."
Y/N felt the lump in her throat swell painfully before taking another sip of wine.
"I could bear you many sons, my Lord. My lineage suggests we will be fruitful with heirs." Lord Borros sucked in a breath at her words. The promise of many passionate nights with the princess seemed to solidify the drunken man's decision.
"Send a raven to the Queen, my Princess. We will wed within a fortnight." Lord Borros roughly grabbed Y/N by the sides of her face and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss. Aemond shot out of his seat at the sight, nearly gripping the dagger around his waist. He schooled his breath for a moment before speaking.
"Forgive me, my Lord, you said you would come to your decision on the morrow. Do not be so hasty with your treason." The prince seethed. The drunken Lord let out a wheezing laugh.
"My prince, I have made my decision! I will not allow you to dictate my affairs under my own roof!"
"Your King will not forget this transgression." Aemond sat down calmly and continued to eat his meal. Y/N let out a breath, thankful this night did not end in bloodshed. She had seen Aemond maim and kill for a lot less. The foolish Lord Borros should be grateful to still have his head. She was ashamed to admit that a small part of her hoped Aemond would unleash his vile anger and cut down Lord Borros to save her from this marriage.
The dinner continued as it was supposed to. Lord Borros made thinly-veiled promises to the princess that made her skin crawl and Aemond quake in fury.
-----
The princess was escorted back to her chambers by Lord Borros's personal guards. It took several attempts to convince him that they should wait until their wedding day to consummate their relationship, as it would be improper to do so before. Y/N sighed as she entered her chambers. This is not how she wanted this night to go. She wished to be back neslted in her mother's arms on Dragonstone. Back where it was safe and warm.
Slowly, Y/N unlaced her bodice and let her elaborate gown fall to her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her shaking fingers fumbled with the laces of her corset. She prayed to the gods to spare her of this heartache, even if it meant her death.
Her head felt like it was filled with thick jelly and her stomach full of lead as she climbed into the feather bed. Sleep did not take her and she tossed and turned for what felt like hours.
The moon hung was obscured by the storm, so Y/N could not tell what time is was when she heard her chamber door creak open. She rolled over to see who had intruded on her self-pity. To her surprise and heartache is was her Aemond.
He closed the door softly and walked slowly to her bedside before lifting the thick blanket and crawling in. His arm slung around her waist as he pulled her to his chest.
"You were cruel to me today." Y/N spoke shakily. He sighed against the back of her neck causing the hairs to prick up.
"I know. I'm sorry, my princess. I did not mean my vile words." His warm hand turned her over so they were face to face. Aemond felt his heart crack at the sight of his sweet niece with tears leaking from her eyes. Slowly, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers. She sighed softly at the contact and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. They stayed like that for a few moments; lips moving in tandem, tasting each other for the last time.
Y/N felt his hardness poking against her thigh and gently ground her hips against it. Aemond moaned into her mouth at the contact.
"Careful, niece. I would not want to tarnish your virtue." He warned. She panted against his lips, "I don't care, my love, please take me." With that, Aemond's last tether of control snapped and he rolled her fully onto her back. His finger slipped down between her silken folds. He groaned at the feeling of her sticky arousal and pushed a finger in. Y/N gasped in delight at the slight stretch, her breasts heaving beneath her thin nightgown.
"Please, Aemond..." she whined, overcome with pleasure.
"Please, what, sweet niece? Tell me what you want."
"I want your cock. Please, fill me with your seed!" Y/N was desperate for more of him and he was all too thrilled to oblige.
Aemond sat back on his heels and unlaced his breeches before hiking up Y/N's nightgown. He grasped his length and stroked it against her slick folds, holding back a groan.
Slowly, he sank the tip of his cock in, hissing in pleasure. Then inch by inch, he filled his sweet niece's cunt to the hilt, watching her face contort in pleasure. He stilled for a moment, fearing that he might climax so suddenly.
Y/N was breathless beneath him. The delicious stretch of his cock was overwhelming and she could've wept at his tenderness.
"Please, Aemond...Please move" Y/N begged as she wiggled her hips. A firm hand rested against her hip, "patience, little one."
Aemond slowly started rocking into her, eyes rolled back as he relished her delighted squeals and moans.
He whimpered against her throat at the tightness of her cunt, squeezing him so exquisitely.
A primal urge to breed her trickled through his spine as his sped up his thrusts. He would be the one to put heirs in her. She was his, this farce of a marriage she concocted with the Baratheon Lord be damned!
"F-fuck, Y/N, you're mine!" He growled against her lips. She nodded fervently, "only yours, Aemond!" Her tongue was silky against own as he swallowed her moans.
The wet sounds of their coupling filled the room and the heavy scent of sex hung heavily in the air. Y/N felt an unfamiliar sensation building in her belly, shocks of pleasure coursing through her as Aemond's cock stroked the rough patch within her.
"A-Aemond" she whined, "'M gon-na..." she couldn't finish her thought as pleasure rippled through her in overwhelming waves. Aemond covered her mouth before she could let out a scream.
"Shhh, sweet girl. That's it, you're being such a good girl for me" he whispered praises into her ear. The words only served to enhance to earth-shattering orgasm that ripped through her.
The vision of his niece in the throes of ecstasy only propelled him towards his own climax. He grunted as his hot seed coated her twitching walls, making sure she got every last bit.
With a sigh, he slumped down on top of Y/N, kissing her hairline. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight, sweet embrace before pulling his cock from her drenched folds.
He watched in fascination as his cum leaked out of her. He took two fingers and gathered what had leaked out before pushing back into her. Y/N moan softly at the feeling, her cunt slightly twitching at the overstimulation.
"We shouldn't waist any of this. Soon, you will be swollen with my child." A devious smirk stretched across his lips.
-----
The early morning sun peaked through the windows, nearly blinding Y/N. She shivered, despite being tucked under numerous thick blankets. Slowly she reached out for Aemond, but was only met with a bed, cold and abandoned.
Betrayal shot through her veins at the realization. He had just left her like she was nothing. Despair ached in her chest and her shoulders shuddered as she stifled her cries. Her tender heart was no match for his cruelty.
-----
The afternoon rolled around slowly. The day was spent exploring the castle with her newly appointed lady's maids and her future stepdaughters. It was strange knowing they were no older than she was, but she supposed it would make her marriage tolerable. Although Floris had made herself scarce, still upset that her father robbed her of a marriage to a handsome prince.
Maris, however, seemed taken with the princess.
"Forgive my words, my Princess, but your uncle seems like a cunt." Y/N chuckled at her boldness, but could not find it within herself to disagree.
"Indeed, my Lady. One can only hope he gets his comeuppance during this war."
----
Y/N still had yet to send a raven to her mother, informing her of her upcoming nuptials to Lord Baratheon. This had not been apart of their plan to secure Storm's End, but Y/N could not risk going back on her word. So, after her swallowing her pride and bile, Y/N took a quill to parchment and sent it to Dragonstone.
Across the sea, Queen Rhaenyra nearly collapsed at the news of her daughter's betrothal. This is not what she envisioned for her daughter! She had begged Daemon to kill Borros or burn Storm's End to the ground, but he only held her as she let out her grief.
------
Nearly seven months had passed since the wedding of Lord Borros Baratheon and Princess Y/N Velaryon. It was a grand affair, full of food, drink, and dancing. Whispers say that the Lord Baratheon was nearly blind with drunkness and could barely mount his new bride. Spectators grew bored of the dire bedding ceremony and quickly left as soon as they heard the snores from Borros.
Y/N had been trapped under him, dignity destroyed and humiliated, but thankful that it had ended so quickly.
Today, Borros seemed overjoyed that his seed had taken so quickly in his bride. He spent nearly every moment rubbing a palm against her swelling stomach, much to Y/N's dismay.
"My Lord husband, I should like to visit my mother soon. I have not seen her in quite some time." Y/N gently requested. Borros looked up at her through his thick eyebrows, confusion coloring his face.
"Did you not just visit her a mere fortnight ago?" Y/N paused, nerves eating at her stomach. "Yes, but with the war going I feel like my place is by her side."
"Your place is by your husband's side, wife." Borros reminded her harshly, "your frequent absence has been noticed by the court and I will not be humiliated in my own Hall!" Y/N flinched at his tone. While he never laid a hand on her since falling pregnant, that did not save her from his harsh words. "Of course, my Lord husband, I apologize." Y/N bowed her head to hide her tears and Lord Borros stood up in front of her.
"Do not weep so openly, wife. It is unbecoming of you." Y/N wiped her tears quickly, shame oozing through her.
"May I be dismissed, Lord husband?"
Lord Borros nodded and Y/N's skirts swished around her ankles as she hastily made her way to her chambers.
She settled infront of the fire after looking her doors tightly. The flames licking the stone of the hearth reminded her of the night she shared with Aemond so long ago. She held her belly at the memory. Y/N knew that her time was running out. When the child is born, her lies will be exposed and Borros would surely kill her. There would be no denying the white haired babe is Aemond's.
Y/N had to distract herself from her nightmarish thoughts. She picked up a stack of letters from her brothers and carefully read through each one. The most recent correspondence, from Jace, has stated Daemon had tricked Aemond into taking Harrenhal. Her heart panged painfully in her chest. She hated him for leaving her at Storm's End. Every day she prayed he would come back for her and their child and every day her hope diminished. With Vhagar and the Cannibal they could escape this war together and raise their child in peace.
Y/N placed the letter neatly on top of the stack. It had been weeks since she sent her reply to Jace, yet she had heard nothing in return. Had her own brother forgotten her as well?
In her grief, she fell into a deep slumber with the fire warming her bones.
----
Days had passed since Y/N had reminisced over the letters and still no word had reached her.
She sat in the dining room with her Lord husband and his daughters. A light chatter flowed through the air, but Y/N could not find herself interested in the conversation. Until Borros interrupted her thoughts.
"Wife, I have heard news from Harrenhal," the smile on his lips was anything but kind. Still, Y/N perked up.
"Your stepfather and uncle had fierce battle above the God's Eye Lake. My sources tell me that both perished!" The news shook Y/N to her core, yet Borros continued. "The mighty Vhagar and Caraxes fell with their riders and neither had been seen since. I know of your affections for your uncle and of the bastard in your belly." Fear took hold of Y/N's throat. She felt dizzy as sweat beaded on her forehead. The dining hall came to a standstill. Not a word or clink of silverware could be heard.
"My Lord h-husband, I assure yo-"
Borros raised a hand to silence her. "For too long have you played me for a fool, girl. I will not tolerate such disgusting insolence in my house!" He shouted and Y/N jumped at his loud words. Her heart thrashed against her ribs as she pleaded to him for mercy, but it was in vain.
Lord Borros had Y/N escorted back to her chambers, imprisoning her.
Y/N was still breathless at the news of her stepfather and her Aemond. Borros was lying. He had to be!
She let out a shriek that shook the foundation of Storm's End until her throat burned and her voice became raspy.
Sorrow clouded her mind and stabbed at her heart with its every beat.
-----
Y/N could not tell how much time had passed since her imprisonment began. Hours melded into days and weeks as she rotted in her chambers. Her hair became knotted and her skin dull. Her eyes felt heavy despite her sleeping for hours on end. Yet, even in her dreams she could not escape her grief. She was tormented by memories of Daemon and Aemond. How gentle and welcoming Daemond had been after her father's death. How Aemond kissed her so tenderly as his fingers tangled in her hair.
A sudden burst through the door startled Y/N out of her trance. Several maids scurried in and began undressing her and forcing her into a ton of hot water.
"Lord Borros is expecting a visitor today, my Lady, we must make you presentable." And older woman, Mirren, spoke. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she took in the state of the princess. Her wrinkled hand reached out and wiped Y/N's tears. Mirren had always been kind to her, eventhough she was a prisoner. She was the one that made sure the princess age enough, for the sake of her child.
Y/N let them continue their ministrations; scrubbing her skin raw, soaking her in scented oils, and brushing through her knotted hair.
Afterwards, two maids gently dressed her in a fine gown of black with gold interwoven in the seams. She was every bit a Velaryon-Baratheon beauty.
Four guards ushered her toward Borros's throne, where he sat and scowled at her. Y/N refused to meet his scornful gaze.
Borros squeezed her wrist painfully, "you will drop the act of self-pity in front of our guest, whore." Y/N ignored him until he grabbed her throat, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Think about your bastard, princess." She shook with fear and straightened her back and held her chin high.
The large doors of the Keep swung open with fervor. A cloaked figure entered the hall.
"We welcome you! We heard rumors that you had perished in the God's Eye Lake."
Aemond Targaryen pulled back his hood. An icy fury danced behind his violet eye.
"Only fools should believe such rumors, Lord Borros." He snarled. Borros seemed taken aback by the aggression.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, my Prince? Or is it just Aemond? Your half-sister now sits on the Iron Throne. Perhaps I would receive a reward for bringing her your head?" Borros mused.
Y/N could not believe her eyes. Her Aemond, in the flesh. Though he seemed to have a more dangerous unbridled fury rippling through him. His eye was wide and crazed and his nostrils flared and he took quick breaths.
"I came for my wife. Surrender her to me and you shall live another day, mercifully." Borros let out a laugh at such an absurd request.
"You mean the whore you put a bastard in? I should kill the both of you for attempting to embarass me!" Borros shouted. He stood and grabbed a handful for Y/N's hair and held a blade to her throat.
"You will watch her bleed before I kill you."
Aemond unsheathed his own sword.
"I will burn this fucking Keep to the ground and the Cannibal will devour your daughters' corpses before her body hits the ground." He snarled. Slowly, Aemond began his approach towards Borros and his captive, who struggled against his rough grip. Borros pressed the blade deeper, a thin line of blood pebbling from her skin.
Aemond stopped as he saw Y/N writhe in pain. His heart hammered in his chest. No one but him is supposed to touch her.
"I did not take you for a coward, Lord Borros. Release her and pick up a sword!" Lord Borros did not like having his bravery questioned. He roughly shoved Y/N to the stone floor and approached Aemond.
"It is admirable that you are so willing to die for a whor-"
Borros could not finish his sentence before Aemond let out a shout of fury and charged at him. The abrupt attack caught Borros off guard and he did his best to block each viscious swing.
Aemond had been blinded by primal ferocity and plunged the sword into Borros until chunks of him littered the stony ground. Blood had splattered on Aemond's face and he looked like a man crazed as he growled after each stab of his sword.
Once he was satisfied with the pieces of Borros he ran over to Y/N.
"My love, I'm here. I'm taking you with me." He placed his forehead against hers as he held her held. Y/N grasped his hands and kissed his lips.
"I thought you were dead. Borros told me you perished in the God's Eye!"
"Nothing can keep me from you, ābrazyrys, not even the Stranger." He promised.
Aemond stood with Y/N in his arms, where she belonged. The men he rounded up under Rhaenyra's orders filed into the Keep, forcing the Baratheon guards to surrender.
"I should wed you properly now, wife, my beautiful wife." Aemond pressed a kiss against her lips once more, his hand resting on her belly.
----
Aemond wed his beautiful wife according to the customs of Old Valyria. The ceremony was blessed by their Queen Rhaenyra, after she granted Aemond a pardon for killing his usurper brother and rescuing his Y/N from the clutches of Borros Baratheon.
1K notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 2 months
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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357 notes · View notes
jelliessoap · 9 months
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price x professional baseball player! reader hcs >:]]
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male!reader mdni probably long as shit
this idea has been rotting my brain tbh idk why but it’s so !!!!!!! idk but enjoy mwahahaha ( i love this gif sm )
- would meet after the mlb hosted a game in england.
- he didn’t go, you were having a bit of a tour with your teammates and went to grab a drink after a successful game. you were sat next to him at the bar and he struck up a conversation curious about the matching symbols on your hats.
- “never seen that football team before.”
- when you chuckled at him and answered that it wasn’t football finally hearing your accent he was intrigued and your conversation blossomed from there.
- relationship wasn’t a thought for either of you, you were in complete different countries and had busy schedules. but that didn’t mean you guys didn’t wind up developing feelings as time went on
- you guys were more so friends with obvious crushes
- price started learning more about baseball ( watching your game highlights on youtube )
- couldn’t and wouldn’t tell you much about his job though he mentioned it was military. you didn’t pry too much deciding it wasn’t your place
- you decide to fly him out to watch the first playoff game after he congratulated you on making it, before you even told him might i add. he had the time and figured he could use a small get away even if to america of all places to a crowded stadium. it was worth it to see you again.
- bought your bobble head
- did not care for the game until you took the field
- had no clue what was going on but he was cheering for you
- was so excited when your team won
- met up with you after the game and said it wasn’t that interesting but you saw the shirt he bought with your teams logo on it hiding under his arm
- bonus meeting option is some sort of charity event!
now for actually dating lord
- NO. 1 SUPPORTER!!!
- still has the bobble head from the first game of your he went to. he keeps it on the desk of his study and you’ve caught him smiling at it more time than you could count
- goes to all the games of yours he can.
- you live with him in england during off season but have to move back to the US when the season starts up again.
- you both have busy schedules and unpredictable jobs that require travel and at times spontaneous trips but you manage to stay in communication
- should there be a time say when john has a mission that you can’t reach one another you agreed to write letters and exchange them once he returned
- if he can’t watch your game in person its on a tv at base, if theres no tv it’s on a radio. does he understand any of the terminology despite your countless attempts to explain? absolutely not. but his ears perk up and his attention is grabbed whenever he hears the announcer mention your name, reminding him you were still out there.
- you play worse when john is out on missions because you’re worried about him and hoping he’ll make it home unscathed.
- he noticed this watching back on base once and when he got home he wrote a sweet little encouraging note on your glove/bat
- ‘Always watching, give me a good game, slugger. Be home soon. <3 John.’
- heard the term slugger in an old baseball movie you watched together and insisted on making it your nickname
- rented out your home stadium when he proposed to you
- dugout sex
- felt real damn proud of himself when your last name on your jersey changed to price. ( or was hyphenated! )
- you better believe you’ll be rewarded after a good game
- doggy with your jersey still on
- missionary with your jersey on and open so he can rub on your chest and look you in the eyes while he plows you
- “look at their mvp, crying on my cock— what would your team say luv?” omg who wrote that!!!
- he def has a thing for your uniform. those baseball pants show off your ass perfectly
- if he ever bottomed he’d be a power bottom
- would ride you and wear one of your hats you play in or your helmet if you’re a hitter. rimjobs
- you send him dirty pics in your uniform all the time.
- pics with your jersey unbuttoned, drenched with sweat, baseball pants hanging low and your uniform coved in dirt will have him feral for you.
- he’s just a perfect little supportive hubby thh
658 notes · View notes
the-iceni-bitch · 5 months
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𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝕮𝖑𝖆𝖞
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𝙾𝚛𝚌 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ����𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎.
𝙰𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜.
𝙰𝚕𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.
Words: ~1.1k
Relationship: August Walker x princess!female reader
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, bondage, manhandling, cum marking), mean August, size difference, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: I love a bad boy so much and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. If I’m going to hell, so be it.
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August grinned as he walked through the horde’s camp, holding the head of his conquered foe high and roaring before tossing it to one of his clansmen and instructing them to boil it so he could add the skull to his collection. His blood was still up from the battle, and there was only one thing on his mind. He took a mug of grog from someone before throwing aside the flap to his tent and striding inside.
“Little princess!” August threw his head back and howled with laughter when you flailed against your bindings as soon as you saw him, taking a swig of grog before setting the tankard down and starting to remove his leathers. “Did you miss me, little one?”
“Fuck you!” You spat at him when he reached out to demeaningly pat your cheek.
“That’s rude language from such a pretty princess,” This time he slapped you, licking his tusks lasciviously when you gasped and shuddered. “I’m assuming this means you’re still rejecting my proposal.”
“Of course I’m rejecting it!” You thrashed even more, determined to get free from your bindings even though you had no luck in your attempts during the past few weeks of your captivity. “I’ll never be the mate of a filthy, murdering orc bastard!”
“Tsk, how disappointing,” the way you were writhing and squirming against your bindings was making him hard, as it always did, and it only got better when you screamed furiously as he began to undo his breeches. “It’s not as though you have many options, princess. I just killed another one of those suitors of yours who thought he could rescue you. His skull is going to look rather fine hanging around my neck with those of the other failures.”
That made your already fraught emotions sink even lower, but you were determined not to let him see you cry. There were now four different prince’s and their armies who had tried to take you back from the horde after they had pillaged your family’s kingdom. Every single one of them was dead, along with their armies, and you didn’t know how many more would make the attempt now that so many had been killed. A sense of dread started to settle over you at that thought, but you refused to be defeated. So you just continued to struggle against the ropes that bound you, glaring at him and ignoring the way your eyes stung with unshed tears.
“I fucking hate you,” you kept your eyes fixed on his face while he pulled out his massive cock and started to stroke it over your restrained body. “You’re disgusting and I’ll never be yours.”
“Your stubbornness only makes the fact that you’ll eventually break all the more delicious,” August snorted when you jerked away from him as he gave your head a condescending pat, slapping you instead as his fist kept moving over his cock. “You have no other choice, princess. I’m going to have you no matter what, it will go easier for you if you submit willingly.”
You just snarled at him, tired of telling him to fuck himself and deciding to just try to ignore him instead. It was difficult, though, especially when he gripped your face and forced you to watch as he stroked his cock over your squirming body. The worst thing was that you were getting wet as you kept struggling, and he could tell, a wicked grin spreading across his face when his precum started to drip on your already soiled gown.
August just grunted with annoyance when you pouted and closed your eyes, rolling his own before taking his hand off your face so he could yank at the ropes binding you until they were flung over one of the tent beams so you were suspended in midair.
“Stop, what are you doing?!” You shrieked when he shredded your gown so it fell off you in tatters and left you naked as you dangled in front of him. “You bastard! Put me down!”
“Always fucking complaining. You’re lucky I don’t decide to shut you up by skullfucking you, princess,” he chuckled when that made you finally fall silent as your eyes lit up with terror. “Don’t look so scared, like you don’t enjoy everything I do to you. Remember how messy you got when I broke you in?”
“Shut up… stop it!” You thrashed wildly when he shot his thick cum all over your stomach and thighs, screaming when he grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder so you were spread wide open for him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
He ignored you, smearing his fingers through the thick mess he’d left all over before reaching between your legs so he could rub his seed all over your swollen pussy. His first smack caught you completely off guard, making you wail when his hand cracked against your quivering folds so hard you almost blacked out. But then he leaned down and kissed you and you were brought back to consciousness against your will, gagging at the taste of grog on his tongue while his hand started slapping your cunt over and over again.
His treatment was brutal, it always was, but still your body responded to him. You cried and choked on his tongue as his fingers struck your pussy at a brutal pace, hating that each time he smacked your sensitive flesh you gushed juices all over his hand and trembled from barely controlling your climax. You held out longer than you would have thought you’d be able to, but after twenty minutes there was nothing you could do. August grinned and spat into your mouth when you sobbed as you squirted everywhere, rubbing your raw and sore folds viciously while you spasmed through your climax. As soon as you were done he released his hold on the ropes and let you drop to the floor, laying on his bed of furs and picking up his tankard of grog again as he watched you whimper and squirm.
“When are you gonna admit how much you enjoy this shit, princess?” August nudged you with his foot to turn you over and chuckled when you whined. “If you can handle this you should be able to actually survive carrying my baby. Of course you will be much more comfortable if you’re not bound and restricted during your pregnancy. So why don’t you take the night to think about how much better your life will be if you actually accept a role as my mate instead of just a brood mare.”
You sobbed when he rose to his feet and pulled his breeches back on, leaving you alone in his tent to consider just how miserable you wanted your future to be.
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orionremastered · 5 months
Note
Anon here! I just saw that your requests are open for Batfam? If you’re still taking requests can you do a regency era Damian Wayne x reader. If you don’t want to do Damian I wouldn’t mind any of the batboys!
xxx
I am always taking requests (they're for my sanity) except for the next three days because I'm on a plane, busy, or sleeping :/
(for this fic, they are Bruce's biological kids) (not completely historically accurate. like at all. but i tried)
Masterlist
Jason Todd x (probably fem due to the law back then unless you want to dream that being gay was allowed in 1817 (some sources also state that lesbianism was never illegal, but I don't know for sure. Just found it interesting))!Reader
Regency Era AU
The poor man is being swarmed by potential— and in all honesty, very desirable— women and their family members who are desperate to introduce the most suitable option for his wife from their family line. Constantly ignoring beginnings of phrases such as "this is the honourable—" and "perhaps you would like to be introduced to my lovely daughter—", and with each one his jaw ticked.
You hide your smile behind your fan, gazing at him from across the ballroom. It is the marriage season and your childhood friend clearly hated it. But that was expected of him as the second son of Bruce Wayne, Duke of York and member of the royal family. Especially since the duke's eldest, Marquess Richard, had recently married a young woman, Marchioness Barbara.
Locking eyes with the green you have known for so long, you tap the top of your open fan. I wish to talk to you.
With abundant relief, he shoos off one particularly frustrating Earl and almost rushes to be by your side. "Thank you," he says sincerely, a smile stretching his face.
"Why do you not wish to talk to them?" you inquire, Jason's smile dropping subsequently. "They are fine young women, after all."
"They're boring," he sighs, "I do not wish to be married to someone who's personality is dull."
"They're not dull," you chide, and he raises a brow. "They are just taught to be agreeable and respectful, my Lord."
"If I asked them about my theory of a novel I am reading, they would simply say, 'Well if you think so, it must be true' and not..."
"Something like I'd say?"
"Exactly."
You suspect it's a common theme with the Waynes; they're seemingly more inclined to look for a spouse that challenges their opinions and joins them in their love of science— the recently wedded Wayne couple bonded over their love of physics, in fact. A quality like that in a women was usually seen as undesirable.
When you were younger and your father made you visit the Waynes, you learned about sciences that your father would've frowned upon; even the daughters, though there were only two, enjoyed the conversations like you did. With Jason and the youngest son, Damian, you would have lengthy conversations about the novels you were reading altogether; these conversations happened so often that their father was tired of having three copies of every novel he owned.
"I have an idea," Jason says, straightening to his full height beside you— tall enough for you to need to tilt your head up if you wanted to look him in the eyes (you always did— something that beautiful was designed to be looked at). "What if you and I get married?"
"You can't be serious."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
You consider him for a moment— you really do— and see no sign of a lie or joke behind his offer. And now that you think about it, it wouldn't be terrible. It was better than your father marrying you off to some old man you didn't know.
Or weren't attracted to.
"Usually there's a dance or two before the proposal," you point out almost teasingly, "And then courtship. For at least a few months. Don't forget, a man should dance with multiple women before deciding who he wishes to wed—"
"Fine," he sighs, rolling his eyes. Yet a small grin remains on his face. "Would you like to dance, then?"
"Hmm, let me think—"
Jason pointedly fake-yawns while playfully glaring your way.
"I would appreciate a dance, yes." And with that, he leads you to the centre of the ballroom, passing his father who watches the two of you with confusion as you begin to dance.
"Are they—"
"Relax, dear," his wife Selina interrupts while lightly leaning against him, also watching the two of you dance, a smile on both of your faces as you whisper quiet yet teasing words to each other. "Don't tell me you couldn't see it before?"
Her husband's silence answers for him.
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