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cottoncandyswisherz · 4 months

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tell me.

softdom!matt x exgf!reader

warnings: p n v, dirty talk, semi-public sex (in an office) a lil emotional

as i sat in the backseat of this car, driven by my driver, paul, i thought about everything i did to get here.

i thought about the people i left behind. my friends. people i called family. it pains me to know that they'll probably never forgive me.

but nothing hurts more than thinking about matt. he stuck by my side through my senior year of high school. he loved me and i loved him.

i loved him more than anything i've ever known.

my biggest regret is listening to my fucking parents when they told me that he wasn't going anywhere. that his dream of being an influencer was unlikely to come true. i listened when they told that i should just go to howard and become a lawyer and forget all about him.

but i never forgot. how could i?

im jolted out of my thoughts when the car eases to a stop.

its almost mechanical, the way i grab my brief case, and step out of the car, into the building and onto the elevator.

im here to negotiate the terms of a brand deal between an influencer and my firms client, CHERRY LA.

who this person was, i had no idea. this wasnt my case. i'm just a associate. this client belonged to one of the partners who dumped it on me.

again, im jolted out my thoughts when the elevator stops. i look up to see who's gonna be joining me and to make room for them but i freeze.

my breath stalling in my chest.

my heart does a quick double beat.

here, in this small elevator, over a thousand miles from massachusetts, i find myself standing a foot away from the boy who changed my life.

he doesn't look surprised. he doesnt look shocked. he looks pissed.

"matt." i whisper his name.

in one quick movement, matt closes the gap between us. his hands come up to the sides of my face. he leans in, his bright blue eyes inches away from mine. i'd forgotten how bright his eyes were. i swore i'd memorized every detail about him, but- being this close again, feeling his heat again- is setting my body on fire.

"y/n." he growls my name.

he leans in at the same time i push up onto my toes. our lips collide, his mouth is warm and soft and demanding. i grab onto the front of shirt, vaguely aware that the elevator doors have shut, and it feel like we're moving.

matts hands slide around to the back of my head. his fingers gripping my hair. the tug is enough to tilt my head. taking instant advantage of the new angle, matts tongue slides against my bottom lip. i nip at him as he pulls my hair, causing me to groan.

he presses against me, bringing our bodies flush.

i'd missed him. missed his body. missed the way he makes me feel.

when matt breaks the kiss, i realized that elevator has stopped, and the doors are sliding open again.

he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers, and pulls me out to follow him. the move has me flashing back to when he took me with his family to vermont and he was dragging me through the woods to show me the creek that he loved. his grip on my hand is now even more passionate than it was then.

i almost have to hog to keep up with his long strides, not sure where hes taking me. the lights are off, but i think we're on the top floor. the executive floor. where my meeting is.

my meeting is in 20 minutes, but for him, im saying fuck the meeting, fuck the job, fuck the career, fuck the rest of the world.

matt steps through an open door, pulling me with. he stops suddenly, turning back to face me. with his free hand he reaches out to slam the office door shut.

"where are we?" i ask.

"in a room with a lock.

matt walks into me, using his body to press me against the door.

i hear the click as he locks the handle. adrenaline surges through my body. i know what he wants.

and i want it too.

i let go of matts hand so i can use both of mine to push his jacket off his shoulders. he lets me, but as soon as it hits the floor he crowds back into my space.

in a move i've only ever seen in movies, matt reaches down, grabs my hips, and lifts me. pinning me against the door with his body between my legs. my thighs automatically wrap around his waist. my arms around his neck. my mouth fusing to his.

his hands are so large the nearly cover my entire ass as he grinds into me. matts mouth leaves mine, trailing open mouthed kisses down my throat. reaching my collar bone, he scrapes his teeth across my skin. the sensation sending a shiver straight to my core.

pulling us away from the door, matt supporting all of my weight, he walks us across the room. i drop my lips to that hollow spot at the base of his throat and lick.

"fuck, sweetheart." matt grinds the words out.

that name. that silly pet name he used on me seven years ago. i never realized how much i loved it until i wasnt hearing it anymore. i sink my teeth into the side of his neck. this boy- no this man, has turned me back into a 18 year old girl. being so close to him, all i feel is safety and desire.

"why'd you leave me? why'd you run?" his questions rumble through my body.

i shake my head against him. "if i didn't leave then, i'd still be there."

a crack sounds throughout the room, accompanied by a sharp sting on my ass.

i rear my head back.

he narrows his eyes at me, daring me to talk back and get spanked again. "you didn't say bye."

he stops walking and lets go of his hold on me. i only drop a few inches before i find myself sitting on top of a desk.

he leans in close. "and you kept my clothes."

he hands start on my bare knees, and slide up my thighs, pushing my dress up as he goes. "tell me youre sorry."

when i dont reply, he pinches my hip.

i startle and whisper, "im sorry."

"good girl." he kisses me once more. brief but hard.

pulling away from the kiss, he presses on my chest until im laid out on the desk.

"i should bend you over this desk. fuck you from behind. pull you hair. smack your ass until its red. punish you for what you did." his breathing gets heavier with each word he bites out.

holy shit. the idea of getting punished has never turned me on before, but his filthy words have me soaked.

matt steps from between my legs, undoes his belt, lowers his zipper then his pants. finally he releases his already hard cock. his pants, around his knees, he steps back between my spread thighs.

i've never been an extremely sexual being, but the sight of him, long and hard and ready, has my mouth watering.

"i should do that." he says. "but i want you like this. i want you watching me. seeing what you missed."

he grabs my hips and pulls me until my bottom half is hanging off the desk. i reach up and grip the edge of the desktop above my head. if he steps away from me now, i'll slide off.

matt groans as he pushes the skirt of my dress over my waist. "fuck sweetheart. look at you."

he runs a finger over my clothed core, demonstrating how wet my panties are.

with one hand he pulls the fabric to the side, revealing my pussy. with his other hand he strokes the tip of his dick up and down against my entrance.

"tell me you want this." he demands.

i dont hesitate. "i want it. i want you."

matt pushed in one inch. "say it again."

i moan. "i want you. please. please!" im begging for him to fuck me.

he pushes in another inch. "tell me you thought of me. tell me youve thought of my cock inside you. stretching this perfect pussy."

his voice is strained. hes trying to stay in charge. but i know hes close to losing it.

i roll my hips up, trying to get him deeper.

another smack sounds through the room. with my ass hanging off the desk he still has access to my bare skin.

"tell me." he growls.

"i've thought of you." i pant. "i couldnt stop thinking of you. matt, please."

a change comes over his eyes. its small, but watching it happen was like watching a flower bloom in 3x speed. like he was opening himself up. i said exactly what he wanted, but he knew, it was exactly what i felt as well.

in one sudden move, matts lips crash against mine at the same he pushed his cock inside me. all the way to the hilt. in one hard thrust. the feeling of him filling me again, combined with the emotional wave of my confession, is too much. the sensation is too overwhelming. i cry out in shock and pain and pleasure.

he pulls out, presses in, and just like that, im a puddle on this desk. my orgasm hits me like a slash of cold water, my breath leaving my body completely.

im caged in. matts encasing me. one hand holding my face, his mouth mouth plundering mine, his other hand squeezing the back of my thigh. my body doesnt know whats going on. my pussy is throbbing with each thrust, matching matt. my minds so blurry i cant form words, and i think i have tears in my eyes.

"fuck. y/n. fuck." matt buries his face in my curls. "you feel so good."

im lost in him. in this moment. in the experience. sense of time evades me, and i feel myself hanging on for dear life. i dont want it to ever end, but im afraid i wont survive another minute.

his thrusts are getting slower. harder. his movements jerky.

matt groans against my neck. "goddamn, you feel so fucking good."

he slams into me hard. once, twice, then i feel his thumb on my clit. my body can't take it. i think i've been suffering from one long never-ending orgasm this whole time, but that doesn't stop my body from starting all over. i shatter. moaning loudly. clawing at matts shoulders. arching against his body.

"thats it, sweetheart." one more thrust and matt stills. his body going tight. his groan of release filling my head. his actual release filling my cunt.

he raises up and looks me dead in the eyes. im mesmerized by his blue orbs. so bright. full of hope and hurt.

"im sorry, matt." i murmur, letting the tears fall.

then a phone rings and we're brought back to reality. matt pulls out of me and i moan quietly.

while he answered his phone i just lay there on the desk, trying to get myself together.

"yeah nick, im on the way." i hear matt say, before hanging up and walking over to me.

"i have to go, but we're gonna talk. i promise. i just have this meeting with this brand and chris really wants to team with them-"

"brand?" i ask. "what brand?"

"CHERRY LA." he answered" "chris really like their clothes and we're here to negotiate the terms of our deal." now he's getting himself together, pulling his pants up and grabbing his jacket off the floor.

"matt." he stops what he's doing. "im CHERRY's lawyer. your meeting is with me."

he smiled. "of course it is. i made sure we only spoke to the best attorney in california."

niyah speaks i been watching suits teeew much guys. anyways new chapter for against all odds tonight!!!

remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and my mommy i mean me)

taglist: @mattslolita

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #fanfic

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Sidelines ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Best friends since university, Yoongi has always been the first one rushing to your side. But when you fall into his arms after, yet again, another heartbreak, Yoongi reaches his breaking point.

Pairing: best friend!yoongi x fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends2lovers, oneshot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: cursing, impulsive confession, sexual content, also reader's true feelings are left a bit open ended

Sexual warnings: dom!Yoongi, slight brat!sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't follow thier lead!), begging, spanking, penetration, f*ngering, cunn*lingus, t*t play, dirty talk, teasing, pet names (princess), slight degradation (b*tch)

Now playing: Love The Way You Lie, Infinity, Escapism+

A/N: Had this idea for a while so when I tell you I sprinted through this oneshot, I SPRINTED. It may be a bit melodramatic and short. Enjoy! 💞

Yoongi stares at his phone–waiting.

Waiting for your name to pop on the screen.

Waiting for your shaky voice to ring through the phone, asking to come over.

Waiting for you to throw yourself into him in desperation to be held.

It should happen anytime now. Why haven’t you called yet? He’s thinking about making the first move but no. That would look too suspicious.

"Dude, you gotta tell her.” Namjoon looks at his friend with deep compassion. He’s known Yoongi since college. Knows the type of heart he carries in his chest. It’s beautifully devoted, warm, and open. But this time…this time it’s too much.

"It's not my place Joon,” Yoongi rasps. “I made a promise.

Yoongi thinks back to the day he met you. It was a cool autumn morning and you were poking around every brick building, nearly walking in circles. It was clear you were searching for something. Turns out it was the dining hall, which was no easy task to find with the campus being the size it was. You were a transfer student and being a recent transfer himself, Yoongi gladly walked you over. That became the first of many memories you’d share together.

Late study nights where you’d fall asleep on his shoulder. Stealing his sweatshirt with a devious yet playful smile. Always having not one pack of gum, but three in your bag. You loved gum for some odd reason. By senior year, Yoongi missed those days most and he wanted more than anything to tell you that a peice of himself was with you. How could he tell you though when you had begun spending every night with the captain of the hockey team? No, he wasn’t going to get in the way.

But he really should have. Heartbreak number one came when you found out your lovely hockey boyfriend had his tongue down some chick’s throat at a frat party. You’re kicking yourself for ever bawling your eyes over that jerk. Perhaps more pressing however is that Yoongi knew your boyfriend wasn’t a great guy. He even tried dropping hints that you ought to be careful with him but you didn’t listen. Despite everything, Yoongi was still the first to show up beside you that day. You won’t forget it.

Now four years out of university, you have a new man of the year who is, for the first time, genuine. Or at least that’s what you think. Yoongi knows otherwise. Just the other day he overheard said boyfriend planning to break up with you. When Yoongi stepped out to confront him, your boyfriend begged that he be the one to tell you. Yoongi promised he wouldn’t say anything which is what brings him to this very moment now.

"You can't keep doing this,” Namjoon urges. “Being her saving grace, her constant shoulder to cry on. It's not fair especially when–”

"She's my friend. I'd do it for you too."

“Bullshit. You’re still in love with her and she doesn’t even think twice about it. She still thinks of you as her older brother.”

“So let her think of me that way. A friend, an older brother…I can't turn my back on her after all this time. I won't."

“All I’m suggesting are boundaries Yoon. Or better yet, tell her how you feel. You're not turning your back on her by being honest. I see how much it pains you to see her running around with no-good losers every year or two when you’re always right next to her.”

The truth in Namjoon’s words stings, pricks like thorns. Yoongi wishes they didn’t but the tensing of his muscles and the heat steadily climbing the back of his neck were clear signs that he couldn't repulse them.

“It’s too late for–__!”

Yoongi's eyes instantly gravitate to his cell vibrating against the coffee table. He snatches it in seconds, bringing it to his ear.

“Yoongi! I–he….Yoongi he ended it with me," you say, voice cracking. Though not in front of him, Yoongi could see the tears trickling down your cheeks. He could feel the sunkenness deep in your heart. He shared this pain with you many times before and it burned stronger each time. "I'm shocked. I didn’t think…I’m sorry I’m having trouble thinking and–and speaking. Yoongi, please, please can I come over? Or can you come here? I know it's late but I just really need to be with someone right now.”

Yoongi turns his gaze to Namjoon who mouths the words 'don't' but he can't bring himself to agree. It goes against his nature and his devotion to you. Maybe his friend is right and you'll only ever see him platonically. One thing's for sure though–he can't lose you.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay there." Yoongi grabs his keys off the kitchen counter and bolts out the door.

"That jerk!" You splash cold water on your face, hoping it will clear your mascara-smudged face. Yoongi was about to come over and you looked like an absolute wreck. He couldn't see you like this again.

Quickly, you rush to your dresser and pull out a less wrinkled t-shirt and lounge pants. You head downstairs next to tidy up the space. You may or may not have had a tiny outrage after your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, told you he was leaving you. Yoongi couldn't see that either.

While cleaning your eyes prick with tears again. It hadn't registered to you now but there were reminders of your ex everywhere. Little gifts he'd given you. Pictures of the two of you on random excursions. How could he do this to you? You harden your face and stomp to the kitchen, searching for something big and black.

You start tossing everything in the garbage bag. Pictures, cards, trinkets, stuffed animals–it all went. And it felt good. It dried your tears. As you make your way around the room, you're suddenly stopped in your purge. A small smile breaks on your face when you see the gift Yoongi got you for graduation. It was a double picture frame with a vibrant orange leaf sealed inside. One photo was of you and Yoongi the first year you'd met. The other was the two of you on graduation day. Yoongi put this together to commemorate your friendship. He's still your day one, you sigh. Four years and he's still here to help you pick up the pieces.

"___!"

Thumpthumpthump

"It's me, open the door," Yoongi gruffs from the hallway. You drop the garbage bag and immediately stride over. You pat yourself down before letting him in.

"Yoongi, hi."

Yoongi takes your invitation and paces inside. "Bit of spring cleaning __?" Of course the garbage bag is the first thing he sees. You fiddle with your hands unsure what to say. "I'm sorry ___. He didn't deserve you."

You bury your face in his shoulder, biting back the growing temptation to cry. Yoongi brings you into a closer embrace. His arms hold firmly around your own shoulders. "Thank you for coming. I know it's late so I understand if you can't stay long."

"I'm here as long as you need." Yoongi pauses, recalling your brief conversation earlier on the phone. "You know you can cry around me ___."

"I'm f–"

"Fine?" Yoongi loosens his grip to look at you. "The clothes, the dried tears, the giant garbage bag in the living room? Needing someone to be here because you don't want to be alone tonight. What part is fine? Because I'm not. Neither are you." His thumb gently strokes your shoulders, soothing your tensed muscles. "So if you need to cry, yell, whatever. Do it."

Wetness caresses your cheeks again and this time you don't wipe them away. "Why does this keep happening?" Your voice cracks as you peer into your best friend's eyes. "They never love me. No one ever does."

His dark eyes soften and you nearly see them glass over through your own tear-filled eyes. You search Yoongi's face for a response but all Yoongi can hear is the echo of Namjoon's words – "All I’m suggesting are boundaries Yoon. Or better yet, tell her how you feel. You're not turning your back on her by being honest. I see how much it pains you to see her running around with no-good losers every year or two when you’re always right next to her".

Yoongi is silent for a moment, mauling over what his friend said. You see him hesitating for the first time in a while. "So–so why do you choose them?" He chokes.

You're a little stunned. This isn't how this usually goes. If you didn't know any better you'd think there was an accusatory tone in your best friend's question. It's unnatural and you're slow to reply.

"Because..."

Yoongi stands still, concentrated on you.

"I don't know. Because they seem kind? And I want to give them a chance."

That's it? Yoongi isn't sure he's hearing you right. Surely there would be more to it. He expected so. Before he's able to retract the words they're already out. "Then what am I? I've never had a chance."

Reflexively, you push away from him. No. No this isn't happening. You must have misheard. "What do you mean?"

"From someone, I mean. No one ever given me the chance to be with them like that so you're very...uh very open." Lies. You're lying again, Yoongi thinks. But look how she broke away from you?

"Oh, I thought you meant...."

You know what? Screw it. Namjoon's right–"You're not turning your back on her by being honest".

"I did." He clenches his fists. "I meant it exactly how you interpret it. I–I love you. And if it isn't love it's damn close."

Your heart drops, mind scatters in twisted directions. You've heard of friends growing feelings for each other before but you never thought–why now? After four years of being next to each other and going out with all those guys. Why didn't he say anything? And when did it happen? Did he always feel this way? Oh my god.

"Sorry, I panicked," Yoongi continues. "But those guys you go out with? They don't care about you like I do. Every time they hurt you it makes me want to scream 'I'm here if you see us as anything more'. But I'm terrified to lose you ___. That's why I kept it to myself."

"Yoongi I–I don't know if..." You stop seeing his heavy eyes. You don't want to break his heart but you can't tell what you're feeling. You never took the time to think of him in these terms. But one thing was for sure. You walk up to Yoongi and take hold of his hand. "You'll never lose me. Do you hear me? You're my best friend and I could never let you go."

"But did you hear me?" Yoongi squeezes your hand. "I love you ___. I don't expect it to be reciprocated so...."

"We can try." Without thinking you close the distance between your best friend. You move to press a soft kiss to his lips but Yoongi lunges backwards.

"Please don't," he says. "You don't need to force yourself ___. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't supposed to be about me tonight, I'm sorry."

"Don't say that. This is about us now, our friendship. I'm glad you told me and to be honest, I'm not saying no. I'm saying we can try."

Yoongi sighs and leans on the back of your couch, arms crossed and eyes downward. "You just got out of a relationship ___."

"Yeah so? We were only together for a few months. I don't even think I loved him."

"But you could have with more time."

You join Yoongi next to the couch. "I mean sure maybe if he didn't break up with me."

"___. Don't you see?" Yoongi turns his face towards yours. "We've had four years together. I don't want you to try to love me, I want you to love me naturally. Like I do. And if, after four years you don't then I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you."

"You're not pressuring me to do anything. You've always been there for me through everything and i care very deeply for you. Maybe I haven't thought of you as more than a friend because I didn't let myself to. Maybe I was too caught up in everyone else that I just..." You pause, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"What if we try and nothing changes? Or something happens and we break each other," Yoongi interrupts. "We'll never recover."

"Do you have that little faith in us?" You place a hand on his other shoulder, turning his whole body around. "Because I don't. Perhaps you're right that something might happen that makes things complicated. But I know we won't let it get out of hand. In fact, something beautiful might come out of this. Don't you want to find out?"

He does. Of course, he does. But was this how you really felt? "You were really upset earlier," he says. "I don't want to cloud your judgment, especially after what happened."

You lean into him closer, lips hovering over his. "I don't care about that anymore. All I care about is my best friend and I really, really want to give this a chance."

Yoongi searches for any hesitation. It's hard to do when you're mere inches from him. He's tempted to lean forward and close the distance completely– to say yes. So you do it for him.

You weave your hands through Yoongi's silky dark hair and press a firm kiss to his lips. He's disoriented at first but like a tidal wave, everything he's been holding back rushes out as he moves harder against you. You feel his hands travel down to the small of your back and snake around your waist. A tongue finds its way inside your mouth next. It dances with yours in a fiery passion. Your body burns up with every touch, every kiss. It's a foreign feeling but you welcome it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yoongi murmurs.

You give a faint smile and take his hand. "There's no one I'd rather do this with." You guide him down the hall and into your bedroom. Yoongi pulls you into another kiss, this time resting a pair of cool hands underneath the fabric of your t-shirt. You moan softly into the kiss and pull the t-shirt over your head.

"I'd tell you that you look beautiful but you already know that." Yoongi traces up your sides and along the band of your bra. It tickles for a moment but then you remember who you're with, where you are, and what you're doing.

"Not so fast," you pull back from his grasp and eye his covered chest. Yoongi picks up on your signal and rids himself of his shirt, revealing his smooth, tan torso. You've seen him shirtless before but when did he get so muscular?

With lust-blown eyes, you're pushed on your back next, sinking into your mattress. Yoongi hovers above you. A light peck is placed on your collarbone before moving to the valley between your neck and shoulder.

"Yoongi."

"Mm?"

"How long have you loved me?" Yoongi open-mouth kisses the ridge of your neck. You close your eyes, anticipating his response. "When did you know?"

"Last year of university when you started going out with that jackass on the hockey team." Yoongi lifts his head from your neck and looks at you. "What did you ever see in him? I thought you said you give the kind ones chances, not asses like him."

You nibble on your bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck playfully. "Oh no, him? He was just hot. I wasn't really thinking very much when we got involved...if you know what I mean?" You raise an eyebrow but yelp when Yoongi digs his hands behind you to unhook your bra. He snaps the lacy fabric off the rest of your body and throws it on the ground.

"Yeah?" Yoongi gruffs. Well, who's little bitch are now? Answer me." He gives your left nipple a tug. You feel a wetness gather between your legs but it wasn't from the stimulation of your nipple. It was his tone, his demeanor. Yoongi never talked like this and it made all the hairs on your body stand.

"Are you–jealous?"

"Wrong answer princess." Yoongi pinches your nipple again. "I'll ask you again, who's bitch are you?"

"No ones." You flip the man over and straddle his waist. "Who's bitch are you?"

Yoongi growls and gives you a hard slap on your ass. When you let out a moan, the man underneath goes feral–riveting with desire. You're thrown on your back again with legs spread apart. Yoongi waits for your nod before yanking your pants off, along with your panties. He does the same to himself, cock hardening in your view. Fuck, you curse to yourself. You had no idea what he was packing until now.

Yoongi settles between your thighs and stares you dead straight in the eye. "We're gonna have a little competition princess. I'm gonna eat you out and if you finish without begging to have my cock then I'll be your bitch. Deal?"

You swallow hard and nod. Who knew your best friend was this nasty. "Deal," you reply, widening your legs. Yoongi smirks and runs a cool finger along your slit. You feel the pit of your core tighten upon contact but keep a straight face. "I thought you were eating me–fuck!"

Yoongi pushes in, breaching your walls as far as he could with his finger. He adds a second in after two pumps, focusing on your reaction. "There's something you should know ___." He begins circling his thumb on your clit, causing your head to throw back in the process. "I don't like brats. So if this was any other time, I'd probably already be fucking your tight, wet pussy. But it's our first time together." Yoongi retracts his fingers instantly, soaked with your cum. "I'll go easy on you."

"Shit." You claw at the sheets. Yoongi licks a long stripe up your folds, dipping between ever so often just to see your hips jolt. His hands dig into your inner thighs, driving your senses wild. "Ah! Yoongi!"

"Need to come princess?"

You struggle to reply, bringing a hand up to latch on his hair. "I–ah–I'm not even close-close yet!"

Hearing your response, Yoongi thrusts his fingers back in, creating a steady rhythm with his tongue. "Fuckfuckfuck!" you curse, knot twisting inside you. You feel Yoongi smirk that same cocky smirk from earlier as he continues eating you out. "Yoongi, I'm close now!"

"Are you? Beg for my cock and I'll let you come."

What the actual fuck? "You're such-ah-a cheater! Well I'm not gonna–fuck! Please, please I need to come."

No response.

"Okay...okayokay. Please, Yoongi, can I have your cock?" You immediately come, tightening your hold on his hair. "Oh my god Yoongi, you're so evil fuck!" You give him a slap on the chest once you release. Yoongi grins down at you and catches your wrist.

"Who's bitch are you?" Slowly, he crawls further up your body, pinning your arm above your head. He grabs your other arm and places it on top of the other. "Are you really not gonna say it?"

"Yours. I'm yours, Yoongi."

"Damn straight you are. Now keep them there." He squeezes your wrists together before placing his hands on either side of your head. He bends down and gives you a passionate kiss. "You really are beautiful ___. Are you still sure you wanna do this?"

"Please."

Yoongi caresses your check, aligns himself with your entrance, and pushes in. Your mouth falls wide, but nothing comes out for a moment. Once you adjust, you give a slight nod.

"Fuck." Yoongi moves inside you, penetrating through your velvety walls. Your eyes roll upwards as his close shut. "Oh god, Yoongi–faster please," you breathe.

Yoongi pushes deeper in you, his length pulling in and out of your hole at a rhythmic pace. Beads of sweat form along his forehead and your around your neck. You let out a loud moan once feeling the cord within you wind up again. Yoongi soon feels it too, quickening his speed.

"I can't believe we're doing this-ah shit!"

Your hands, struggling to stay down, jolt with every thrust. You look deep into Yoongi's eyes, his staring straight back into yours. You're both grinning too, like idiots really. "Me neither. But I'm glad we are."

Yoongi kisses you again. It's sloppier than before but you couldn't care less. "You're gonna come soon mm? Because I know I am. This pussy is so tight-fuck-it's basically swallowing my cock. Brat like you love this shit don't you?"

You laugh and rustle through his hair but your arm is pinned back down. Yoongi starts moving inside you as fast and hard as he can, breasts bouncing against his muscular chest. He so close and so are you. "Asked you a question princess."

Your back arches as he fucks into you. "Yes-yes we do! Fuck, I'm gonna come. If it doesn't happen now it'll–"

"Come for me __." Yoongi pushes himself into you one last time before both of you finish, gasping for breath. You feel his length pull out of you shortly after.

Side by side now, hot and sweaty, Yoongi looks at you. "What the fuck did we just do?"

You grin and leap on part of his chest. "We're giving us a chance."

"By starting with sex?" Yoongi throws an arm around you. "Let's do this properly and go on a date tomorrow."

You giggle and bury your head in his shoulder. Goof. Maybe, this does have a real chance of working out. "Okay," you whisper.

A/N: Thanks for stopping by! As always, lmk your thoughts. See ya! 💞

Masterlist

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts au #bts scenarios #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #fic:sidelines #kookslastbutton

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byfulcrums · 5 months

Text

Fuck it. Invincible Tumblr

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Wake up to see the aliens attacking again. God fucking damn it.

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

Imagine how the aliens feel after seeing you

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Get better insults. You won't be insulting anyone that way

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

Nahhh. Don't need to. You already humiliate yourself every time you open your mouth

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Your entire existence is an insult

☪️ superherofan Follow

i forget that superheroes have social media and regularly use it.... invincible has Tumblr holy shit

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Boo.

☪️ superherofan Follow

OMG??

#HI MR INVINCIBLE SIR #I SWEAR ALL MY A/B/O FICS WERE WRITTEN OUT OF LOVE

🌙 artemislover Follow

Can't believe I have to say this, but can you guys please stop making Omni-Man x Immortal theories?!?!

Ik you think the idea of them having been romantically involved is funny, but c'mon, people

It is true that there should be more openly queer superheroes, but the fact that there are people who genuinely believe they fucked is wild...

Besides, we have to stop following the lives of superheroes that closely. They deserve to get some privacy too! They're still people

Also, didn't Omni-Man once mention his wife?? And son?? Shipping him w a man when he's clearly straight and in an established relationship is stupid

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

These are all great points but they've definitely fucked

🌙 artemislover Follow

INVINCIBLE?????

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Godddddd. My parents just do not know what privacy is, PLEASE STOP HAVING SEX WHEN I MIGHT BE HOME... please you're killing me

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Wait, shit, wrong blog...

🌭 hotdog Follow

shocking revelation: invincible has parents

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

??? Of course I have parents. Where'd you think I came from?

🌭 hotdog Follow

Honestly i thought you were from mars

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

from MARS????

#i'm not martian??? i don't even look martian #do i look martian?

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

ATOM EVE LIKES MY FAVORITE BAND????

🚫 ohgodpleaseno Follow

really? How do you know?

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

Okay quick storytime

My friends and I wanted to go to see this band live for a LONG time, so we saved up money for years until we could finally afford it, right?

Well, the day we finally get to see them live, I look up and I see Atom Eve, just. Flying there. Above the crowd

She was singing, apparently very loudly and she looked like she was having sm fun. She saw me and waved!!! Atom Eve!!!! Waved at me!!!!!!!

�� atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

WAIT R YOU THE ACTUAL ATOM EVE

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

Yeah. Check my Insta, there's a link to this blog!

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

AFKFHFHFHFJDJDJDJDDJDHFHSUEUEJEJ

#ATOM EVE TALKED TO ME!!!!!!

🤖 officialrobot Follow

Today, Monster Girl told me to download this app and create a blog — I did not think it was necessary, but she insisted.

I decided to listen to her. She was very persuasive.

I will be sharing things about my day, as she has told me to do. Expect to hear from me after this.

👀 eyaseyaseays Follow

you really think we're gonna believe you're the real Robot?? C'mon.

‼️ notafurryyet Follow

Dude, RP exists. Let people live their lives in peace

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

This is so funny

‼️ notafurryyet Follow

That's... The real monster girl. Replying to a fake Robot post...

Dude I think he's real

🎉 partyshitter Follow

The new Guardians are a fucking shit show. Are we seriously meant to believe they're going to protect us? Really??

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Oh Id like to see YOU almost get killed every single fucking day without one fucking break only for asholes like you to shit on us like that. We almost die every single day!!! Were the ones geting our hands dirty not you

🤖 officialrobot Follow

I'd* assholes* We're*

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Your supposed to be with me in this one

🤖 officialrobot Follow

You're*

☪️ somanykates Follow

The Immortal kinda... 👀

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

WHAT

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

I cant believe she cheated on me... what a bitch

🧬 atomevesss Follow

😐

☪️ somanykates Follow

We're going to have a fucking talk, Rex.

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Shit

🍐 shrinkshrek Follow

You had this one coming buddy

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

The fact that Miles Morales canonically reads JJK, though...

🔫 shootmeplease Follow

INVINCIBLE LIKES MARVEL?? AND JJK???

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Why is everyone always surprised when I like something? I don't get it

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

I cannot have just found out you're still alive through Tumblr...

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

Seriously though. Are you okay now? I know you're not mentally, after the whole Chicago thing w your dad, but at least physically?

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

I'll survive, I guess

💔 thisishowtobeah Follow

INVINCIBLE?? It is such a relief to see you're still here after the whole Chicago ordeal Mr Invincible

📸 definitelyinsanebaby Follow

Yeah maybe don't remind him of that rn??

�� thisishowtobeah Follow

OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY

#I AM SO SO SO SORRY #omg i hope you're doing good mr invincible :(((

#invincible #invincible series #invincible comic #mark grayson #atom eve #rex splode #kate cha #shrinking rae #robot invincible #monster girl #unreality #fake tumblr #fake social media #this is fun #avis' post

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ilikecrowns · 6 months

Text

Closet

Alessia Russo x f!reader

Reader has liked alessia for as long as she can remember, alas it has always been unrequited, as alessia appears to be straight. That is until one day the news spreads something that she wasn’t ready for.

based on this request here

1k words (sorry it’s so short, i might make a part two)

warnings- none yet again! (i’m good at this)

　　　　　　　･:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+

Watching Alessia in training everyday with the most adorable smile that's somehow always present on her face, completely and utterly destroyed me. There wasn't a hand I wanted more to hold, or hair I wanted more to softly stoke whilst laying besides her. Eventually, I decided it was best to get over her.

After all, she was straight, and would never ever want to be with me.

A sharp knocking on the door broke me from my pitiful state as I sat alone on my sofa, long past midnight, caressing a bowl of cookie dough ice cream. The only person I'd ever expect to turn up at my front door was the postman, and even then I probably see him far too often (my online shopping addiction is a matter to discuss on another occasion).

After shooting up from the sofa and practically spilling the whole semi-melted bowl of creamy heaven, I found myself standing at the door. Times like these make me realise a peephole is definitely worth it.

With no other way of knowing who on earth was banging on my front door at the devil's hour, the only thing for it was to open it up.

And there, looking in all her beautiful blonde glory was the one woman I swore to forget.

Alessia damn Russo.

"Hey...." she sheepishly smiled, clutching her arms in a feeble manner.

"Alessia," I stood there shocked, like a prey about to get pounced on. However, this predator was the most stunning, kind and adorable animal you'd ever see.

"I'm... i'm so sorry. I really hope i'm not interrupting you. It's just... I just," she started hyperventilating at this point, tears spilling down her cheeks faster than my hands could catch them.

"Less, it's okay, calm down, what's going on?"

"Someone... someone found me... found me kissing someone at a bar and and and-"

I raised my eyebrows, wondering where on earth this was going. I couldn't hide the sharp pain to my heart I felt as the words 'kissing someone at the bar' gave me, but right then I needed to be there for my friend.

"-and they took a pic and it's everywhere on the internet and now everyone knows, y/n/n, they all know!!"

I just looked at her completely bewildered.

"Everyone knows what, Less?" I never knew kissing someone at a club was the biggest deal in the world, but I guess some crazy fans certainly would find it to be the next focal point of their lives.

"Just... just look." she sobbed again, holding her phone out so I could see the picture she had up on it.

It was Alessia kissing a woman.

Rather awkwardly, I must admit. It looked like the poor thing didn't know her lips were attached to her face and that hands were absolutely not ever allowed anywhere near the person she was practically eating alive.

I raised my eyebrows, not sure whether to laugh at the hilarity of the awful kiss, or stay composed and empathetic for my 'former' crush.

"Honey...." I start, putting a hand onto Alessia's shoulder and offering her a warm smile, "Everything is going to be okay. Have you actually LOOKED at what people have said? You chose the right career to be gay in by the way, good job."

She gasped as soon as the word 'gay' left my mouth.

"Gay? I-i'm not..." she stopped, trying to find the best words as to not offend me, "I really really really just don't want everyone to know."

"What's the main reason behind that, Less?" I grabbed some tissues and dabbed at the tear stains around her eyes, followed by guiding her to my sofa.

"Because!" she exclaimed, getting up almost immediately after sitting down in an angry flourish.

I was almost astonished at the fact I'd completely glossed over the fact Alessia had kissed. a. girl.

"Lessi? if you wanted practice, you could have just asked me, by the way. That kiss looked painful..." I tried to make light of the situation, however soon after her meltdown it may have been.

She stopped her pacing, and turned to look at me.

A sharp blush instantly rose to her cheeks, followed straight after by a curious glint in her eye.

"You... you would do that for me?"

"I-"

"OH MY GOD Y/N I LOVE YOU!" her crying completely ceased, and she grabbed my face into her hands, planting a deep passionate kiss on my cheek.

All I could do was sigh to myself. If only she knew what she was doing to me.

The talented striker then gulped an entire glass of water in less than 10 seconds- which to me was hella impressive- and hastily applied about five layers of lipgloss to her lips.

"Alessia... I don't think this is a very good-" she shut me up with a messy, rushed and extremely, well, awful, kiss.

My eyes shot wide open, not in a million years had I expected my crush to kiss me and for me to feel extremely uncomfortable.

"God, Alessia, please tell me you didn't drink the entire bar," I face palmed, now finally realising how unbelievably drunk she must be to even consider doing something this bold.

"No no I just had a few, now sit still i'm not done!" She shut me up yet again with another bruising kiss, this time she tried sliding her tongue into my mouth which I absolutely was not having when she was so out of it. Plus, I was pretty afraid she'd eat me alive.

I gently pushed her off me, raising my hand to wave it in front of her still closed eyes and puckered lips face.

"Right, it's bed time! We will talk more about whatever the hell just happened in the morning, but for now, you need to rest. And for the love of god never get drunk again."

I wasn't sure how much I meant that last sentence, because no matter how painful that kiss was, I still got to experience what I’d dreamt of for years.

#Spotify #football #woso soccer #women’s football #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #alessia russo #caitlin foord #grace clinton #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo x reader #lessi russo #fanfics #fanfic #woso #wsl #wlw post #wlw

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starb3rrys · 1 year

Note

Hiii I'm kinda new to Tumblr so idk how stuff really works here😭 but anyway are your requests open? If so, then I'd like to make a req but if not just ignore this!!

Umm so basically an nsfw oneshot(idk what you call it) or headcanons of how bsd men would react/deal the situation when you two are hiding in a very tight space and your crotches accidentally rub together? RHRHHT it's kinda weird describing it but let's just say [character] pushed you along with him into a locker/box with you sitting on top of his lap OR with you too close ttp that you two could feel each other with every inch you move

Uhhh and yeah that's it and feel free to add some touches and changes on the scenario, and I'd greatly appreciate it if maybe you add Nikolai in it😁🙏AND AGAIN IF U DON'T FEEL LIKE DOING MY REQ OR ISN'T ACCEPTING REQS RN THEN FEEL FREE TO IGNORE I HONESTLY DON'T MIND!!/lh /srs

OMG YES?! Ugh, I love this request! I wanted to add some more characters as well, So I picked the DOA (sorry) ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／

If y’all want a part 2 with different characters just let me know, Im at your service! <3

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

A Tight Fit~

Ft. Nikolai, Sigma, Fyodor

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Nikolai

Scenario: You were out on a mission with Nikolai, it should’ve been an easy “break in and grab important documents” type mission. But now, you two were squeezed together in a small closet, fearing that any small movement would get you two caught.

“Stay quiet...” Nikolai said as he listened closely, his face looked concentrated and serious, a change from his usual happy and calm face

You quietly nod, as you press against the wall behind you to try and get some more space in between you two

The closet is pretty small, hence why nikolai is leaning down, his hands are pressed firmly on each side of your head, inevitably pinning you in place

Nikolai thinks of a way for both of you to escape this situation without being spotted, “maybe I can teleport something”, he thought to himself

He reaches for his cape, unintentionally pressing against you

Your eyes widen as you feel something press against your area, you slowly look up to see if Nikolai noticed

His cheeks are flushed, hes frozen in place and there is an obvious smirk forming on his face

Yeah he definitely noticed.

You start to speak “Niko-… you’re so clo-“, he cuts you off as he places his hand over your lips

“Shh...” He says as he places a finger against his own lips with a small smirk

Moments later you hear the door of the office close, you two are now alone

“They’re gone now...” Nikolai says in a quiet gentle tone, he turns to you “But, i mean…we could just stay in here~” he says with a mischievous grin

Even after you two get out of that closet, he would keep on teasing and reminding you of the “incident”, he will make sure you never forget!~

Sigma

Scenario: You really don’t know how you got in this situation, one second you and Sigma were walking the streets of the city at night, after your wonderful date. The next, you were hiding in a small dark alley, your body pressed tightly against sigmas as you both hid from a certain jester.

“Damn it.” Sigma cursed under his breath as he kept his guard up, looking around frantically with a worried yet annoyed look

You looked up at Sigma, “Why are we hiding?” You whispered

Sigma looked down at you as he let out a sigh “I saw Nikolai roaming the streets, We can’t be seen together by anyone in the decay, if they were to find out about us...I’m sure horrible consequences would follow” he explained

You nod in agreement, “I understand..but um, why did we have to hide in such a...tight space.” You say as you look away, you can feel his body pressed tightly against yours, you can feel his every breath, his every shuffle and every slight movement

Sigma realizes this and blushes as his eyes widen, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice our position in the heat of the moment”

As he says this, you hear a slight noise come from the alley which causes you to slightly jump in a fright

Sigma let’s out a small grunt as he feels your crotch roughly brush against his, he grips your shoulders and holds you in place “Love please…try and stay still…at least for now” he pleads as his face flushes

Your eyes widen as you feel something slightly poke you “Sigm-“ you’re cut off as his hand covers your mouth, “Keep quiet..” he whispers as you hear footsteps around the corner

You feel him press more onto you, trying to hide your body from view as he lays his head against you shoulder, next to your ear

You slightly shuffle which causes sigma to groan in response, he quickly grips your hips with slight force

“Keep still..” he says in a low tone

Once you two finally get out of the alley way…let’s just say- his head was full of scenarios that caused him to blush profusely, as he practically dragged you to your apartment…

Fyodor

Scenario: Work has been so busy lately, new mission reports coming in everyday. Piles of finished and unfinished documents decorate your desk. All of this caused you to become stressed and overwhelmed, which caused you to become clumsy. So clumsy that you didn’t even seem to notice Fyodor turning the corner, not until it was too late.

**THUD**, is all that can be heard as your bodies crash together and fall to the floor

You feel extreme pain on your head as you let out a small groan of pain

You soothe your head and begin to slowly open your eyes, you try and comprehend what just happened as you hear a soft pained groan come from under you

You slowly begin to look down, your face flushes when you and Fyodor’s eyes meet

His eyes show slight shock as they quickly return to their neutral state, he just stares up at you…not uttering a word

You take a minute to process what is currently happening…and thats when you feel it, you feel something pressing against your area

You quickly get off Fyodor as you begin to apologize, “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been paying more attention!”, you ramble on apologies as you quickly stand up

He lets out a small chuckle as he stands up and brushes himself off , “No worries, more importantly…are you alright?” He asks with a bit of concern present in his tone

You nod as your face grows red, you begin to remember what you felt under you as you pray to god he didn’t notice

But, its like he can read you like a book, he smirks as he reaches for your chin, making you look at him “Yes,…I did notice and feel it” he says with a sly tone

You freeze in place as he says this, he then pulls away and softly smiles “Just be more careful and aware in the future, alright?”

He narrows his eyes as his tone changes to a more stern one, “Next time I won’t be so forgiving…~” he says as he begins to walk off

You’re left standing there shocked and frozen in place

He definitely enjoyed it, especially your cute reaction when you thought he didn’t notice. But for your sake he won’t bring it up, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t think about it constantly…~

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Hi Hi! Sorry for the delay, work has been getting in the way but no worries im clearing out my requests!

I changed the scenario up a bit for Fyodor! (Sorry)

I appreciate everyone sending in requests! Love yall! <3

#bsd nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #bsd sigma #sigma x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic

1K notes · View notes

starlightsuffered · 3 months

Text

Hate Fuck

Info - enemies, hate fuck, a little cnc, clothes breaking, cocky Timothée, insults during sex, legs not working from a good fuck, unprotected sex

I was so sick of hearing all about Timothée. Timothée this and Timothée that. So he'd landed a small role in a movie. He wasn't a star or anything.

Eleanor only wanted him along because she was ga ga for him. Her brother Henry was as well. Then there was Violet, Mary, and Harry. We'd all been friends since little up. Henry and Elenor were newer to our group and had brought Timothée into it.

Timothée had been like a shiny toy to the lot of them. I used to be the one they followed and admired. I used to be the one to make them laugh. Now everything was about that bastard of a show off Timothée Chalamet.

We had all scraped our money together to go on a trip to Florida and bask in the heat and beauty. It had taken a lot of work and planning but we'd managed it. At the absolute last moment Timothée had waltzed in and asked if he could go.

Everyone had voted yes except for me. It made me so mad that I had saved for SO long to help pay and he had just grabbed a wad of bills from his pocket. I fucking hated him.

The night felt long and I never slept well in hotels. I decided that I would make use of the out door pool. Perhaps the exercise would make my anger decrease.

The whole flight I'd had to listen to Timothée talk about his time on the movie set. As he spoke Eleanor gushed. I was sat beside Henry and he kept turning back to listen and comment since he was also enamoured with Timothée.

I had a migraine by the time we landed. Timothée had also be elected to choose where we ate that night.

Apparently, since he was part French, he would have better taste than us.

It felt like he was possessing my friends and I was sick of it. At least this swim would be Timothée free. I grabbed my towel and bathing suit. I headed into the bathroom and gasped in annoyance.

I thought for sure l'd packed my new bikini. However, in my hand was my old one. They were both pink, so l must've grabbed the wrong one. This one had clips that easily fell apart and my boobs had grown a bit so that there was a worry about them falling out.

I sighed. I'd have to buy a new suit when we went shopping tomorrow. This would do for now. It wasn't as if anyone else would be out there.

I walked the cold hallways, the ac was always blasting. It was like a blanket of humidity was thrown on me as I exited the hotel. I gasped as the heat hit me. The short walk to the pool had me swearing,

I jumped into the cool water. It soothed my heat prickled skin. I felt calm under the quiet surface. I could finally forget Timothée even existed. All would be right in my world.

SPLASH!

Someone jumped into the pool. I wanted to scream. Of course my nice midnight swim had to be ruined by someone. When I came up and saw who it was I wanted to scream again.

Timothée stood there with dripping curls and a smirk. I hated that he looked godlike in this lighting. His high cheekbones and perfect bone structure. It would be a hell of a lot easier if my arch nemesis was ugly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Taking a swim," he offered as he leisurely paddled.

"It's midnight!" I shot back.

"You're here," he said blandly. I couldn't deny he was right. I put my hands on my hips and took deep breathes to calm myself.

"You know the world doesn't belong to you y/n. I can go places. I can make friends. I can come on trips. I can go swimming. I can-"

We both flinches as the clasp on my bikini top sprung open. My breasts fell out heavily. I would double D bras so there was a lot on display. Timothée's eyes were right on my nipples. I was too stunned to cover myself.

Suddenly, everything changed from slow and stagnant to fast. Timothée moved towards me. He was feeling me up and kissing me. I'd never felt such electricity. No one had handled my tits the way he did. The perfection in the way he squeezed, the way he rolled the nipples, the way he shuddered into my mouth.

"What are you doing?" l asked, but I didn't stop him.

"Kissing you, feeling you, worshiping your perfect body. It's all l've wanted to do since I first met you," he groaned. He pressed against me and I gasped. He was rock hard in his trunks and he felt big.

"Y-you hate me," I stuttered as one of his hands reached around to my ass. It all felt so good. Perhaps he deserved to brag and eloat if he could make someone feel like this.

"No, you hate me., I adore you," he professed.

"Well you're a pompous idiot, always showing off and-"

He grabbed my jaw and looked into my eyes. He looked filled with lust, like someone on the brink. He was pulling against restraints that would break any moment. Then, in the most surprising and gentle movement he leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on my lips. It left me breathless and needing more.

"Why do you think I show off?" He asked me quietly, and then his long fingers were hooked in my bottoms. "Why do you think I brag and big myself up? Why do you think I mention only my best qualities and abilities?"

"Because, ohhhhh," I cut myself off as my bottoms were pulled all the way down. His large hands left me for a moment. I knew he was pulling his dick free and I couldn't imagine why I wasn't stopping him.

"To feed your own ego. To sound important. To make everyone obsessed with you," I snapped.

"No," he shook his head. I keened when his thick head pressed at my entrance. I could tell he would hit my g spot without even trying. He was so big. My clit throbbed. I hadn't been fucked well in so long.

"For you," he said as he pushed his head in. I grabbed wildly at his biceps.

"All for you, everything I do and say is to get your attention," he said. He had his forehead pressed against mine now. We were heaving together. I nodded slightly to the question that hung in the air.

He pushed all the way inside me. I held back but his moan of gratification was almost enough to make my knees weak. I clung to him. He began to rock his hips. His huge cock was filling me again and again.

"Uh oh fuck, it's even more perfect than I imagined. Uh, uh, uh," he groaned as he slammed home again and again.

I couldn't hold back my pleasure any longer. My nails were already embedded in his skin. I was clenching my jaw so that it ached. I had to make a noise or a sound or something to express how fucking, damn, good I felt!

"I hate you," I whispered, trying out the words on my tongue.

"What's that?" He panted as he pushed deep inside me. He had me against the pool wall. His hands were greedily feeling all over me.

"I hate you," I moaned as he hit a delicious part of me.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world," he whined as he attacked my neck with kisses. I grasped the nape of his neck.

"You're hideous," I responded, my eyes squeezed shut in bliss.

"Your pussy feels, fuck, like heaven," he retorted.

"I can't even tell you're inside me," I nearly cried as he slammed in. He chuckled dark and low in my ear.

The water was splashing everywhere. He was mumbling hot compliments in my ear. I couldn't help but lift my legs up and put them around him.

"Mm, mm, mm," I nearly squealed as he went at me like an animal in heat.

"Please," he gasped

"Please what?" | growled.

"P-please," he said again. He sounded like he was pleading for his life. "Let me cum inside you. You can call me any name you want, just please, can I let loose in this perfect cunt."

"I-l- oh, fuck, yes, you fucking piece of shit, cum inside me raw," | screamed.

"Oh yes!" He shouted and rammed his cock inside me so hard I was seeing stars. My world was spinning as rope after rope of cum filled me up. Then I was coming too. I was exploding with lust and desire and pleasure. I was panting and clawing and making such pathetic noises as we both erupted.

"That was.... Wow," Timothée moaned as he reluctantly pulled out. I sneered at him as best I could.

"Speak for yourself," I said as I got out. However, Timothée giggled when my legs refused to work right when I tried to walk. I glared at the idiot.

#reader insert #timothee chamalet #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee imagine #timothee x you #timothée chalamet #x reader #timothée chalamet smut #timothee chalamet smut #timothee smut #smut

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haziwritesstuff · 8 months

Text

But can't two people reconnect?

Based off Olivia Rodrigo's song 'Bad idea right?'

Modern! Aegon x reader Wordcount | 2.5k Warnings | smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), creampie, slight praise?, Aegon is a fuckboy but what else is new

You knew you shouldn't be here, but your heart wouldn't listen. Your hands trembled as you rang the doorbell of Aegon's house, the same house where the two of you fell in love. You felt a mix of excitement and fear, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you dreaded to see him again, yet somehow yearned for him too. Your heartbeat quickened as you waited for the door to open. You felt a wave of relief when it finally did. You stepped inside the house, not knowing what to say or do. You were flooded with memories of the good times you had with him, all the laughs and kisses. But now it was all gone, all those precious moments had ended in heartbreak...

You were startled by how nonchalant Aegon acted, as if the two of you had never broken up. You felt frustrated by this, and suddenly you felt all the anger that had built up inside you since the breakup. "Aren't you going to say anything?" you asked, your voice laced with bitterness. "I invited you, don't be so angry buttercup." "You invited me? This was a mistake," you said tartly. "I shouldn't have come here, and you should've stopped me." His calling you 'buttercup' triggered more anger within you. You wanted to lash out at him now, to punish him for his indifference. "Oh, I'm sorry buttercup. I forgot your feelings were so fragile. Maybe I should wrap you in bubble wrap next time so you don't bruise so easily," he said mockingly.

You scoffed at his comment, angry at him for making light of your feelings. "Don't act like you don't care, Aegon. You know exactly how much I've tried to move on without you. I've done everything in my power to forget you," you snapped. "And you know what, I'm leaving. This was a bad idea." "Leaving? Just like that?" he replied, smiling. "You're not really going anywhere. You always come crawling back to me in the end." "That's not true, I just made a mistake by coming here. I'm leaving now," you said firmly. You turned around to leave, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him.

"Aegon, let me go." "No, I'm not letting you go until you admit that you love me," Aegon said, his voice thick with desire. "I don't love you," you insisted, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he was too strong. "Then why are you here baby girl?" "Because I made a mistake. Now let me go," you said, pulling away from him. "Let me go or else," you threatened, your patience running thin. "Mhm... Or else what baby?" Aegon was clearly enjoying this. He's playing with you like you were his personal doll.

"Or else I'll do something drastic," you warned him, trying your hardest not to lose your temper. He knew how much power he had over you, and he was taking full advantage of it. "What are you going to do, buttercup? Cry and scream like a little girl? I'd love to see that," he said, taunting you. Your anger and frustration grew as he laughed at you. "I'm not going to cry, you bastard. I'm going to leave," you said, finally breaking free from his grip. "Go ahead and leave, baby. It won't take me long to make you come crawling back anyway," Aegon called after you, mocking you like he had always done.

"I'm not coming back to you, ever," you said as you went toward the door. "My friends were right to warn me not to come here. I'm an idiot for believing that anything would have changed between us." "Oh, I changed, baby," he said, following you to the door. His voice was softer and more sensual than it had been before. "I've changed just for you. I've changed my whole life to be with you. I would never do that for anyone else, just you. Don't you realize how much I love you?"

You froze, your anger and frustration turning into confusion and doubt. He was saying all the right things, all the things you wanted to hear. You could feel your resistance slowly melting away as he spoke to you in his familiar seductive tone."See? I knew you couldn't stay away from me," he said with a smug grin. "You're like an addict, and I'm the perfect drug. You'll keep coming back to me again and again, because no one else can give you the rush that I do." "I hate you."

"You hate me?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But it doesn't take away the fact that you're attracted to me like a moth to a flame. You may hate me, but you can't deny the passion that burns inside you for me." Aegon came closer to you, his voice now low and husky. He caressed the side of your face with his hand. "See? Everything we had was real. We are meant for each other. No matter how many times you leave, you'll always come back to me, because you know that I am the only one who can truly satisfy you." You hated him. But you mostly hated that he was right. No matter what happens, you always seem to find your way back to Aegon. "That's right," he said, still caressing your face with his hand. "I know you better than you know yourself. I know what you need, and I can give it to you. Let me take you to my bedroom, and I'll show you just how deep my passion for you runs." "Is that all you can think about," you rolled your eyes at him. "It's what you need, isn't it?" he asked, his voice now a sedative lullaby. "I can give you the rush you crave, the feeling of pure ecstasy. You will forget about all your troubles and worries, and just surrender yourself to me. Let me take you away from your worries, and take you to a paradise where it's just you and I".

You could feel your willpower crumbling, as Aegon's words wrapped you in that familiar trance. You wanted to fight against his words, you wanted to fight against him, but it was as if your body was frozen. Your mind was trapped in a fog of ecstasy. The sensation was intoxicating, and you felt yourself being pulled deeper and deeper into Aegon's arms... He gently lifted you in his arms, carrying you into his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, his hands brushing your neck and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. Your every nerve was on edge, pulsing with desire.

"We can't keep doing this Aegon..." "But why not?" he asked, his voice now a whisper in your ear. "We love each other, we can't ignore the passion that binds us. Don't you want to feel that rush of adrenaline again? Don't you want to let go of your worries and just surrender to me once more?" He began kissing you softly, his lips grazing yours. You could feel his hands exploring your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. You wanted to resist him, but you were helpless against his charms. He knew just what you wanted, and he was taking you to that dark place again. "Aeg..." you whimpered, you were almost pleading.

"Shh..." he said, his voice laced with seduction. "Don't deny this, don't resist me. Just let go and let me take control. "He slowly started taking away your clothes, his fingers trailing along your skin. You felt his lips caressing your neck, his breath stirring your hair. Your body was overwhelmed by his touch, your senses flooding with pleasure. Everything around you melted away until there was only you and Aegon. All that mattered was this moment, only him. He was on top of you, his lips grazing your neck, sending a wave of shivers down your spine. His hands caressed your body, his touch sending fireworks of pleasure through you. His breath was hot against your neck, your own breath becoming labored as he kissed you more passionately. You wrapped your hands around his neck, gripping tightly as if to make him understand that you weren't going to let him have his way with you so easily. You were tired of being at his mercy, of being under his spell. This time you were going to take control. He was still kissing you deeply, but he seemed unphased by your grip around his neck. It was as if it only excited him more. "That's a good girl," he whispered. "I like it when you're feisty, it makes the game so much more stimulating. But don't mistake your defiance for strength. You can only resist me for so long, until you finally give in like you always do.."

You knew he was right. You were only fooling yourself if you thought you could resist him for long. You tried to tighten your grip, but he just laughed and pushed you down on the bed. He pinned you against the bed, his body covering yours. "You always surrender to me in the end," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "You can't resist my charm. You can't resist my love." You tried desperately to resist him, but he was too strong. You felt like a weak, helpless thing as he looked down on you with those deep, hypnotic eyes. His smile was intoxicating, his breath hot against your neck. You were helplessly at his mercy.

You were slowly losing your grasp on reality, as his kisses and touches sent waves of ecstasy through your body. You began to tremble, your heartbeat increasing as he began to explore your body. You felt his hands caress your legs, grazing the edge of your underwear. He slowly undid your underwear, the anticipation and the feeling of being exposed sending shivers through your body. You were now completely vulnerable, your body a mass of nerves, as his hands caressed your skin, touching everywhere but the places you desperately wanted him to touch.

You shivered, the feeling of his breath in your ear sending waves of ecstasy through your body. He was now touching all along your upper body, but his hands refused to go any lower than your neck. "You're being such a good girl," he said, his lips caressing your neck. "I like it when you try to resist me, it makes things more fun. But I know you're weak, you can't resist me for long." Your body was now a mass of shivers, your heart beating frantically as he teased you. He was finally touching everywhere except for the one place you were desperate to have touched. He was driving you crazy with anticipation. He was playing with your desire, testing your limits and seeing how much he could get you to beg. "Please..." you said, your voice laced with desperation. "Please what baby?" "Please..." your voice was trembling now, your fingers tightening around his neck. "Please don't make me beg. I can't take it anymore. Just fuck me..."

He kissed your lower stomach and then moved onto your pussy as you begged. Your body was now a burning mass of desire, your breathing becoming labored. He was teasing you now, taking his time before he finally chose to touch you. One lick was enough to cause a wave of pleasure that sent you to heaven. “That’s my good girl,” he praised you as he circled your clit with his tongue. He slowly slipped a finger inside your folds. You were completely flooded with sensation. Your mind was foggy and relaxed, and all that existed was the feeling of his touch. “Look at you baby girl, you’re absolutely soaking.” He licked his finger clean before entering two this time. He kept kissing your delicate pearl as his digits were working your sensitive folds. Your eyes closed tightly, your entire body quivering with pleasure. You were dripping with sweat, your breathing heavy and shallow. Your body was drenched in a rush of adrenaline, the feeling of pleasure flowing throughout every inch of you. You were a panting mess, utterly consumed by Aegon. You grind your pussy against him, using him to gain even more pleasure. You felt a familiar burning sensation building in your abdomen. Everything around you was slowly turning blurry. The feeling of Aegon working your folds expertly was almost overwhelming. “Cum for me baby, I want to taste you.” His words send you over the edge, your body trebling uncontrollably.

He kept licking your clit, Aegon wasn’t fully satisfied with your response yet. He wanted to taste everything, all juices. He wanted you to be a complete mess before he took you. “Aegon, fuck me!” your voice wasn’t soft anymore, it was loud, needy, demanding. He didn’t need to be told twice, quickly took off his clothes. His body was now exposed to you, and you couldn't help but stare. He grinned like cheshire cat when he noticed you staring. “You’ve been such a good, good girl.” You nod at him, wanting him to reward you for being such a good girl. Being his good girl. His cock was rock hard with precum leaking from the tip. Your mouth slightly watered at the sight.

“I want you on all fours,” you quickly did as he told. You felt the tip of cock at your entrance, he circled it there. “Aeg…” you whimpered. He pushed the head of his cock inside, stretching you oh so lightly. He pushed the head in and out in a slow rhythmic pace. Soft moans escaped your lips. He slid out completely and then he pushed back inside completely. Your eyes rolled back from pleasure. It has been a while since you felt this full before. Aegon began fucking you in a fast, unrelenting pace. You drove your hips upwards to meet his trusts. “You’re so tight, squeezing me like that.” He groaned. “God…” Yeah he knows… Aegon knows. He was fucking you brutally, each trust harder than the one before. You’d be sore and bruised tomorrow. His hand found your hair, pulling it back. “Such a good whore for me.” He grunted between gritted teeth. His cock was hitting all the right spots and soon a surge of pleasure shot through your body again. Aegon would follow you soon. He thrusts a few more times before he comes, painting your walls with his seed.

As you lay in Aegon's arms, enjoying the aftermath, your phone began to ring. It was Baela, wondering where you had been. She was concerned, but you didn't want to break the moment. You’d tell her you fell asleep, no need to tell her who’s bed you slept in.

#smut aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #modern aegon targaryen #modern aegon x you #modern aegon x reader

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lemon-russ · 9 days

Note

Uhm so my understanding with that 'Burned out on Cato × Diplomat' post is that requests are open? May I request some post-nails Angron x Reader? Doesn't have to be smut, but I'd welcome it!

yes!! It isn't super long and no smut, but I liked this so much I might do more of it, I'm actually a big fan of 30k Angron :)

Eta: I keep forgetting tags woops: @undeaddream @scriberye @sleepyfan-blog

And thank you for divider as always @squishyowl

Angron x Gn!Reader

Word count: ~800

CW: It's Angron. There's blood.

Blood dripped down the walls, splattered across from the spray from the neck of the unfortunate serf that happened to have passed by The Red Angel at the wrong moment. He gnashed his teeth, grinding and cracking them before they healed themselves immediately anyways. The pain of the nails cracked through his skull again, but dulled slightly now that he'd turned a serf into paste in the halls of the Conqueror.

He whirled 180° at the sound of soft footsteps tapping against the metal plates, nostrils flaring and hand raising to use whoever dared approach the Lord of the Red Sands.

But upon seeing your soft, patient expression looking up at him with gentle eyes, he faltered. The only thing that seemed to even slightly interrupt the pain if his nails besides bloodshed and slaughter, was you. You and that gentle, unfaltering look you always gave him.

He lowered his arm, grinding his teeth again against the pain, and you gave him a small smile before approaching. You could read him well enough to know when it was safer to approach and when he needed space.

“Angron.” You say in that soothing tone. You never called him “my lord” or “primarch” or any of those ridiculous titles. He tried not to flinch, his muscles tensing in control as you stepped to his side. You pull out a cloth from your robes and pat at the blood splattering his arms with a featherlight touch, knowing too much contact would irritate his nails.

“You.” He gruffs. That's all he ever called you. Just, you. Never anything so pompous or fake as a pet name. And he honestly would forget your name in the middle of a wrack of pain or a blood fury. So it more often than not was simply, “You.”

“You are wandering alone again.” He growled, fists straining as he attempted to control his anger at your lack of self preservation. “You forget where you are.”

Like always, you didn't react in anyway but with gentle, unwavering patience. “I heard screaming. I wanted to check on you. Would you like to walk with me?” You say with that soft tone that seemed to balm his psyche.

He simply grunts, the nails lashing against the numbing of his mind with another shock of pain. But you made it easier. More bearable. He lets you take his hand in both of yours, and mindlessly follows you as you lead him away from the pile of gore he made of the serf.

He blinks away some pained brain fog. “You… know better than… to walk alone around the ship.” He forced through grit teeth.

You make a gentle hum. “I wasn't very far from you.” You return simply.

He groaned, annoyance tinging the pain in his mind. “If one of my sons got a hold of you…” he growled, teeth creaking in his head as he ground them.

You softly pat his hand. “I know, but they did not. Shall we loop around?” You say, tugging his hand gently toward a new corridor. “Or shall we bathe for the night and head to bed?”

He shuddered, pain mingling with the other feelings you always stir. “Bed. Now.” He grunts, hand tightening around your tiny ones.

You giggle, the sound only rousing his blood more. “Not while you're covered in blood. Bath time it is. I got some nice herbs for soaking when we were on that last planet…” you say, and your babbling about scented leaves turns into a soft background noise as he watches your face while you talk. Soft. Gentle. Patient. Voice hypnotizingly calming, or as much as is possible for him. His.

He growled a soft noise, gripping your tiny hand with as much gentleness as he could muster. With you, blood was not the only thing that could sate his pain and rage. At least for a moment. With you, there were other things that helped.

You looked up at him curiously, and his mind dredged back to the moment. “What?” He grunted.

You giggled and blushed. “I asked, so you think it might be fun to combine a bath and our other activites?”

He processed slowly, mind trudging through the ever constant pain, but then he let out a deep, needy growl from his chest. “Yes.” He snarled. He scooped you up into his arm, no longer patient enough to wait for your tiny legs. You squeak and giggle, far too comfortable in the arms of 11 feet of muscle and rage.

He looks down at you as he hurried toward the quarters he had made for you. You. His.

Yes, there were other things that could soothe his nails, for a moment. And he thinks he might be able to rut himself into a somewhat restful sleep tonight.

#Angron x reader #angron x gn!reader #My work #angron #wh40k fic #asks #No smut yet #But i might continue it into smut

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xoxochb · 3 months

Note

hi hi saw ur post abt wanting requests so i thought i'd send one in! no pressure at all <3

so jason grace x childhood friend reader where they meet again after he loses his memories, and the reader helps him remember a few of his earlier memories ? could have some romance 😖 ahh no pressure tho lmao

⋆·˚ ༘ * I envy the leaves that grow from the trees, they’re all so carefree

warnings: this doesn’t entirely follow the hoo timeline, so after the quest in tlh he’s brought back to camp jupiter. I also do not remember how camp jupiter works so I made my own rules and stuff

pairing: jason grace x childhood best friend

oh how you missed your best friend. the one you grew up with, the one you knew since you were six, the one who helped you through your claiming, the one who knew everything about you, the one who saw you through all of your embarrassing phases, the one who was a son of jupiter

not a day goes by where you don’t think about your sweet jason grace. where had he gone?

he had been missing for a month- a very long month at that. you missed him dearly, you didn’t have many friends at camp jupiter. maybe a few people you’d occasionally have a catch-up chat with, but no real, true friends, none like your lovely son of jupiter best friend

you would’ve done anything to see his blond hair or ocean blue eyes again

the same questions run through your mind every day since his disappearance: why did he leave? was he captured? did he leave because of you? where did he go? where is he?!

the only way you could ever make these thoughts leave your mind was when the boy who you’re worried about was beside you, using a gentle tone to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you drift off to sleep

but he wasn’t here so the thoughts never leave your mind, you’re practically drowning in them at this point, but how couldn’t you worry?

as you lay on your bed in a state of loneliness you hear faint voices outside, and then a knock to your cabin door. you discard your stuffed wolf in your arms and make your way to your door, opening it quickly

“reyna? what’s up?”

she sighs before answering “he’s back”

your eyes widen and your more alert “what? where?”

“in the infirmary, but let me warn you he’s lost most of his memories…” she trails off

“how did this happen? do you know where he went? actually- do you know anything yet?”

a million new questions to drown in, hooray!

“no, but if you’d like you can visit him”

that’s all you need to hear before rushing to the infirmary, almost running into a few people in three process

when you arrive you find him immediately and run over to his side, a few single tears falling in the process

when his eyes meet yours with the same look he gave you many moons ago you think reyna was lying about his memory loss. he seemed to know who you were, or were you just making yourself believe he did because you didn’t want him to forget you?

he grabs your hand and you snap out of your thoughts, “I missed you. you were the only person I had any memory of, I prayed everyday to see you again”

so he did remember you? forget that- you’ve got questions

“where were you? I was scared to death!” you snatch your hand away

he frowns, “I- I don’t know… I woke up on this bus and I couldn’t remember anything, but I knew you. faintly though, most things are a blur still. I went to this camp for greek demigods, camp half-blood, then I went on a quest and I came back here. that’s the short version, unless you want the long version”

“not now” you sigh “I’m sorry”

“what’re you apologizing for?” he asks

“I don’t know, I was worried about you, I was scared. I didn’t know if I’d even see you again, that’s horrifying. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you never came back” you begin to tear up again

he takes your hand again, more gentle this time, scared you’ll snatch it away, “I’m here aren’t I?”

“yes…” you break eye contact

“exactly. we’ve got some catching up to do”

🍂

“how much do you remember about me?”

“at first or now?”

“both”

the first thing to welcoming jason back to camp was reviving his memory, and since you’ve known him the longest you were assigned to the task

you first asked him for a longer version of his story so you can catch up on what he’s been doing while he was gone, then you ask him about you

“at first it was only your appearance, I could only see your face, that’s all I knew, but then I kept having these weird dreams, or flashbacks, I think they were. they all consisted of you, and the more they came the more I knew about you, I learned your name, how we knew each other and stuff like that. I remember a few random things about you too like your favorite things and just miscellaneous facts and flashbacks about us”

good gods of olympus

“well I’m going to help you remember more, follow me!” you grab his hand and drag him off your bed to various places throughout camp

the north bridge where you had made an oath to always be together, the infirmary where you both had been laying for various nights after you got badly injured, and many other places, but then it came to the last stop. It was the flower field where he kissed you the night before he went missing

“it still looks the same as the last night” he says

“I made sure the ceres’ kids took good care of it incase you ever came back” you blush when you recall the reasoning behind it

“I didn’t know you cared so much about flowers” he jokes

“I don’t”

“then why do you care if the flowers look good?”

“do you ever wonder why I was the only person you remembered?”

he turns to you, seeing you already turned to him, a very small space between the two of you

“all the time. answer my question now”

“so I could recreate the last night we had together”

“are you going to? or are you going to keep talking?”

the first option, obviously. you would choose it in a heartbeat.

and that’s just what you did- you pull him in for a very long-awaited kiss under the moonlight in the flower field, the same as the last night, except this time it was even more special than the first

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo #xoxochb #percy series #pjo hoo toa #jason grace imagines #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace #jason grace x reader

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ellieromanov · 11 months

Text

Wasted flowers. N.R x Y/n

First fic on tumblr, let me know your thoughts and requests are always open.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst

Summery:

Y/n and Natasha are soulmates, they are perfect for each other, but life always has different plans.

Natasha’s point of view

Y/n and I met by chance and dumb luck. We were young and naïve, so clueless of the world and the cruelties it held, yet we thought we knew so much. It was spring in New York, I couldn't tell you the year but if you lived here during this particular spring, you would remember. It was the one when all the trees of Central Park blossomed with small flowers, the birds sang their song from dawn into the late hours of evening, and the breeze held a freshness that the city hadn't seen in centuries.

On this particular day I had wanted to clean up my apartment and make it feel more homely. After hours of picking the place up, rearranging furniture, and hanging up decorations it started to feel more like a home rather than a simple place to sleep. The last thing it was missing was a touch of greenery so I made my way to "Michael's Floral Design" to pick out a bouquet to set in the kitchen and maybe a few house plants.

I had pasted this flower shop on 85th St. nearly every single day on the commute to the tower but never really thought twice about it. I can still remember walking to the shop that day and getting red just at the thought of the 'big scary black widow' walking out of a flower shop with a bouquet of colorful flowers in hand. I can't remember why it embarrassed me so much. But I remember by the time I had arrived to the shop I didn't seem to care anymore, I was to mesmerized by all the colors to care.

I remember reading the name of every flower I saw and paying attention to every detail of every bouquet that was on display. And while I was browsing, the shopkeepers bell rang as someone entered the store, that someone being Y/n. Her hair was shorter back then and she looked much younger of course. I still remember the sweater she had on too. It was a knitted sweater that had so many layers of colors it was almost distracting, which was obviously a stark contrast to myself who was wearing all black. Little did I know that that sweater would eventually become my favorite years later.

I can't remember how we started talking but I'd like to think she was just charmed by me, but knowing Y/n she probably saw how confused I looked from across the store and decided to take pity on me. She helped me pick the flowers and I ended up leaving the store with more than I had planned on.

That night, for the very first time my apartment felt more inviting and and warm than it ever had in the past. What a simple difference flowers could make.

The next time we met it was a few months later in the fall at French bakery. I was sitting at a nearby table waiting for the worker to call my name for my coffee and breakfast when, again, the shopkeepers bell rang and in walked the same girl from the flower shop, only now her hair was slightly longer and died a darker color. But her face looked the same. This time She wore a black beret, a grey sweater and a white and black polkadot skirt. Not as colorful as she dressed earlier in the spring and I can remember wondering if maybe something had happened in between those times to have made her stop wearing so much color, or maybe she was just following along with the seasons. Either way I wasn't going to ask.

She walked up to the counter to place her order and as she was going to grab a seat to wait for her order to be called, I gave her a small wave. The smile she gave me as she walked to my table is one I'll never forget. This time I think I actually did charm her because we ended up staying at this bakery for hours just talking away. I didn't want to leave. I got her phone number that day.

After that we started talking on a regular basis, we'd text each other nearly every day and we'd plan to meet up when we could. It was later that November when she asked me on an official date. How was I meant to turn her down?

We went on a walk through her neighborhood, I remember it was cold and all the leaves had already fallen off the trees and the sun was starting to set much earlier, but I couldn't have cared less, because Y/n was the most wonderful girl I had ever met. She was smart, and witty and she was insanely funny, she made me laugh harder than I had ever laughed in my whole life. And she was gorgeous and kind and soft and she was so humble. It was a nice contrast from everything I was. We balanced each other out nicely.

During this walk through her neighborhood she stopped and greeted every shop owner, every child, and every neighbor with a smile as if she had known them her whole life, and maybe she did, I forgot to ask.

Later that night I walked her to her front door and she invited me in. Her appointment was colorful and crowded with little trinkets she had collected through out the years, art hanging on the walls, plants in every corner, and a bouquet of flowers on her kitchen counter. I ended up staying there that night.

The fall had come and gone and missions were slow, I think everything felt slow when I wasn't with Y/n, my days felt endless and my nights were torturous without her, but looking back now, I kind of wish things felt slow even when I was with her, that would mean I would've gotten more time to appreciate her and love her.

That December she invited me to spend the holidays with her and her family, I of course said yes. That was my first "real" Christmas, we had the food, the films, the decorations and the presents. Y/n's family was incredible, although nothing alike. They were loud and chaotic, unlike Y/n who was soft spoken and patient but it made sense. It was clear how much they all loved each other. The way Y/n and her siblings would interact and bicker always made me laugh and the love her parents had for each other made my heart full. Even though Y/n and I hadn't been dating long, her family took me in like I was their own.

The new year had flown by quickly, winter had pasted and so did the spring. I learned so much about her. I learned how much she loved to paint, and she loved to cook, and she loved playing her piano, of course she did, she was a composer. And I quickly learned how much I love, her. It was that summer that we had said it for the first time. We were drinking white wine on her balcony watching the sun slowly set when she said it. I didn't even think twice before saying it back.

When the next spring had approached we had moved in together, a small apartment in downtown Brooklyn, it was perfect, it was us.

A few months later Y/n got a dog, a Great Dane named Frodo. Of course out of any dog she could have picked she chose the horse. Frodo was the dumbest dog I've ever met but god was he lovable.

Y/n and I had our daily routines, we'd wake up, I'd start getting ready while Y/n started breakfast. Some days she'd make it herself, others she'd take Frodo on a walk to the bakery, and when she'd go to the bakery she'd also stop by the flower shop to pick up flowers as well. She'd get home, we'd eat, then she'd start getting ready while I cleaned up. And We always had to give at least five minutes of love and affection to Frodo before we left for work for the day.

When we'd get home, we'd take Frodo an another walk through the park then stop by the market to pick up anything we may have ran out of through out the week. We'd get home and start dinner. Y/n was always the better cook but I did what I could to help without screwing it up. We'd finish dinner then have a glass of wine together on the balcony and talk about our days. Once the sun would set we'd go back inside and normally watch a film together, but sometimes she'd work on her latest Composition at the piano or she would keep working on her painting while I read to her. This was our day-to-day lives, and just how perfect it was.

It was June of the next year when Y/n had brought up the idea of marriage. I agreed with her without a doubt, how could I not? Y/n was my other half. We'd been together for nearly 5 years. We never had an official proposal, I never got down on one knee with a ring, and neither did she, we just started planning. We didn't need anything extravagant for it to be special, we just needed each other.

Time seemed to be moving so fast and before I knew it, it was already late fall again. This fall had been different from the others, Y/n didn't seem as present as she normally was, she seemed so lost in her own thoughts. At first it didn't worry me, she had a lot going on with work, she had just gotten a promotion at the symphony she worked for so there was a lot of new changes and responsibilities.

But Y/n had started to forget more frequently too. She'd often forget what she had been doing only moments before and she'd forget what she wanted to say in the middle of our conversations. And for awhile I just thought it was all just work related stress.

But only a month later, Y/n was sent home on paid leave after having "an episode." She accused a coworker of stealing one of her books on composition arts that was important for a project she was working on. She forgot that she had happily loaned him the book just two days prior.

Y/n cried so hard that night, she didn't know why she didn't remember loaning the book. She was so frustrated. I suggested that we go to the doctors and that's what we did.

Stage three brain cancer.

The tumor was against the part of the brain that affects memory.

We walked out of that doctors office that day hand in hand. We were meant to go in and figure out what was going on then go home to get ready for one of Stark's Christmas parties but we didn't think that the diagnosis would be anything serious. We thought they'd tell us that she was just stressed and needed more rest, not that she had cancer that's causing early onset dementia. We both decided to keep it a secret.

That winter we spent half of the holidays with her family and the other half with the team at Clint a Laura's. Y/n had admitted to me that being around the team was less stressful than her family simply because she didn't want her family to notice something was wrong.

The holidays went by smoothly and Y/n started treatments. She was able to start working again later that march. When we got the diagnostic I asked Furry to cut down on my hours so I could be with her more often. He agreed to assign me to fewer missions.

That year passed by before we knew it. In all craziness we both dropped the idea of marriage until things had settled.

Frodo was getting older, he had silver down his back and around his eyes, he was getting slower at night too. We still walked him twice a day and would even bring him with us when we would meet with friends. He was always the bestest boy.

Y/n and I still had our daily routines, wake up, get ready and eat breakfast. Except for one time in particular, Y/n had wanted to go to the bakery with Frodo since it had been awhile since we had last went. 30 minutes went by and they weren't back, I called her but she didn't answer the phone. When I went to check her location she was almost in Jackson heights in Queens which was a 40 minute subway ride away. The bakery was only a 10 minute walk away.

I had gotten in the car to go pick her up. I was furious. When I had finally gotten to her she just cried in my arms.

And after that point Y/n's affliction only worsened. She stopped remembering things during her rehearsals with the orchestra and her compositions were in shambles, none of her music or writing made sense. She'd get awful headaches too. Every other night she'd cry herself to sleep because of the pain.

The second time there was an incident she was sent home on permanent medical leave. She was devastated. So was I. Some days I'd get the Y/n who would sing in the kitchen while she cooked us dinner, the Y/n who would sit on the balcony and paint, the Y/n who would joke about our unborn children, and the Y/n who could turn every negative into a positive... other days I'd get a stranger.

Her family was devastated when we finally told them, they started visiting from Seattle as often as the could after that.

Three years passed far to quickly and Y/n only got worse. Her memory was fading fast and the pain in her head only got worse. The worst was when I'd get mad at her like when she'd try to go on walks by herself or when she'd try to cook for herself. I couldn't do anything without her and she couldn't do anything without me. We eventually needed to give Frodo to the Barton's so they could take care of him and I asked furry to take me off the mission list all together so I could just do SHIELD work from home.

This brings us to two years ago. Y/n's memory didn't worsen to much since the worst of it, she still remembered exactly who I was and most of the time she understood what was going but she was so weak, most months consisted of multiple trips to the hospital where she'd be kept for a few nights. But towards the end of it, even her strongest medications couldn't help with the pain.

I remember we started using the spoon theory and color system not long after this. To get through our days we'd make a list of things we wanted to do. First Y/n had to give her color. Green Days were good days, she could get out of bed, take a walk, make dinner, paint, play her piano, etc. Yellow days she'd stay in our room or maybe the living room and sleep, maybe watch something on tv or read a book. And red days were the worst of them. She couldn't get out of bed, she couldn't eat, sleep, or talk. she couldn't do anything but lay there. Those were the worst.

But on green or yellow days we'd make a list of what we wanted to do. Each activity on the list took up a certain amount of energy, and Y/n only had so many spoon fulls of energy to give, that's why the call it the spoon theory. It just helped us do things without Y/n getting burned out.

The last hospital trip we went on she was kept for over a month, machines and wires where hooked up to her to make sure her heart didn't stop. It was so unexpected. The doctors didn't really understand how her health decreased in such a short amount of time. But they understood that my girl was in pain and they tried everything they could to stop that pain.

I believe deep down Y/n knew something the rest of us didn't, I think she knew it was her time, she was so tired and she was hurting and she was ready.

"Natasha."

"I'm sorry we didn't get married."

"I'm sorry we didn't have kids."

"I'm sorry that I can't remember all the time."

"I'm sorry we didn't get the life we wanted."

"I tried. I tried to get better but it hurts so much."

The Barton's would visit weekly, so would stark and other members of the team as well as Y/n's parents.

But I was the one who didn't leave her side. I was there through it all. I was there when she would sob in pain, I was there when she'd forget who our family's were. I was there when she wouldn't sleep for days on end. I was always there.

People often ask me if I regret it, being with her, falling in love with her, meeting her. I always tell them the same thing. Never.

I'd do it a thousand times over again if it meant I got to fall in love with her all over again. Fall in love with her smile and her laugh and her love of flowers, pastries, dogs, music and art. I'd do it all again if it meant that was a promise, that I'd be able to have my girl.

12/30/1992 - 11/11/2018

Y/n Y/l/n

Friend • daughter • sister • lover

Life goes on. two years have slipped away since Y/n has been gone. I’m not able to look at flowers the same anymore. They used to represent her spirit, colorful and lively. But now they mirror her paintings, cracked paint on a Canvas, the echo of her piano that’s lost it’s tune, or that one spring in the city all those years ago. flowers are just fleeting moments of a beauty that slip through our fingers like everything else. my world is quieter without her, and flowers, now seem like an attempt to hold onto moments that inevitably slip away.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha romanov #y/n #marvel #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett ingrid johansson

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tj-dragonblade · 7 months

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[FLUFFBRUARY FIC] A Sweet Romance Beginning In a Queue

Rated: T Word Count: 4551 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, human AU, rain, writer!Dream, professor!Hob, song-based meet-cute, clumsy metaphors

Notes: This is springboarding entirely from Bus Stop by The Hollies; shoutout to @valeriianz for suggesting this song would make a great Dreamling fic many many months ago. I thought Fluffbruary Day 3 would be a good opportunity to bang it out real quick but uh. It didn't want to flow, so I've just been rolling additional days into it all month. Also went a wee bit off-script from the song but. I'm pleased enough with what it's turned out to be. Prompts listed at the end.

Summary: Bus stop, wet day, he's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'

On AO3

It's the first day of the new term and the sky is overcast, threatening rain as Hob steps off the bus at his connecting stop. He's got his umbrella and his overcoat and his bag is water-resistant; his stop on the other end is very near the college and he's feeling well-prepared should the weather follow through on its threat.

Which of course it does, not half a minute later, and Hob deploys his umbrella with a sigh. There are a handful of other people waiting at the stop who do the same.

And one who does not.

He's pale and pretty, and tall, and dark—dark trousers, dark peacoat, dark hair, which is well on its way to getting thoroughly soaked as the skies open up in earnest. He appears to be lacking an umbrella entirely. Hob, who these days makes conscious effort to be a Good Samaritan whenever he can, and who also maybe thinks that attractively-pale men dressed in black who forget their umbrellas are worth at least a 'hello', moves quickly.

"Share my umbrella? Please." He's holding it over the guy as he speaks, but they'll have to squish up a bit to get maximum benefit for either of them.

"…Thank you," the guy says, shuffling closer; their shoulders touch. He is stiff, awkward, and yeah okay Hob can understand; courtesy in rainy weather or not, they're still complete strangers.

"Hell of a day to forget your umbrella, yeah?" Hob rolls his shoulders and shifts, putting himself more or less back-to-back with the guy so they fit better.

"Quite," comes the answer. His voice is low and rumbly, pleasantly dark without being bass-deep; it's oddly appealing.

Hob shrugs. "We've all been there. And hey, I'm glad to share."

"Again. Thank you." There's a touch more warmth this time, and Hob smiles to himself.

They pass a moment in silence, save for the drumming of rain against the umbrella and the splashing of cars in the street, and then the bus is pulling up to the stop. The guy steps toward it, first in line, and Hob follows with the umbrella, then lets the other three people board ahead of him.

Which means, once he's boarded and tapped in, the only open seat is serendipitously next to his slightly-soggy goth stranger. Who makes eye contact and holds it as Hob approaches, scoots just that little bit closer to the window to make clear he doesn't mind Hob taking the seat beside him, and Hob is quietly thrilled at the subtle welcome.

"Are you a conversationalist, or a ride-in-silence enthusiast?" he asks, as the bus lurches into motion.

"Ordinarily, the latter," the guy admits, glancing briefly at Hob. "But, as I stormed out with neither book nor earbuds, and I find myself with a chivalrous seat partner, perhaps I could be persuaded to the former just this once."

"Very kind, thank you," Hob says, with a smile. "'Stormed out' doesn't sound promising; feel like unburdening to a friendly ear? I'd be happy to listen, if so. Or find something else entirely to talk about if not."

His stranger turns to the window, watching the rivulets of rain trailing over the glass; there is a brief lull before he speaks. "I find myself creatively blocked, and my sister's attempts to be helpful. Were not." He sighs. "I left the house to clear my head, before saying anything truly unkind."

"Smart," Hob agrees. He could listen to this guy talk all day, his rumbly words and his dark-velvety voice.

"'Smart' would have been making certain to grab more than just my phone and wallet." There's a pretty little scowl accompanying the words, that rosy mouth plumped out in the faintest pout visible in his reflection in the window, and Hob is smitten.

"That may be, but then I'd hardly have had reason to say hello, and we'd both be sitting here reading our books politely ignoring one another. Silver lining?"

"Perhaps," the guy says, but it sounds agreeable enough. Hob likes to think he's a decent judge of unspoken communication and that he could tell if he was being a bother. Currently his stranger is glancing over Hob's bag and his attire with a curious and observant eye, posture reserved but not closed off, and Hob figures he's doing alright.

"Where are you headed, then—work?" the guy asks.

"Yeah, I teach at the college, medieval history, now and then a class in medieval lit too."

The guy's attention goes from merely polite to genuinely interested. "Oh?"

"Yep!" Hob's heart rate bumps up a notch at the light in those (gorgeous) blue eyes; the sudden intensity of this stranger's focus is heady.

He's turned in his seat, angled to somewhat face Hob, gaze bright, expression open. "I imagine that is a difficult sell to many students."

"Oh my friend, you have no idea!" Delighted with his good fortune, Hob launches into tales of his most recalcitrant classes and the victories he's won in inciting and maintaining student interest. He's good at talking, and enjoys doing it, and this pretty stranger is paying genuine attention to him, and so Hob prattles on enthusiastically as the bus trundles steadily through the rain.

~ "This is me," Hob says, as the bus pulls up to the college stop. "It was delightful chatting with you, and I hope your day improves from here!"

"It already has, thank you."

The tiny smile that the stranger offers in parting buoys Hob's spirits all the way to his office.

~ Tuesday is miserably wet again and Hob checks for his stranger at the bus stop, hopeful (yes alright, perhaps he's got a bit of a crush), but there's no sign of him. It's earlier than it was yesterday though, on account of his 8 a.m. lecture this morning, so there's no reason to think he'd be there again. Plus he'd talked about 'storming out' and 'clearing his head'; it wasn't like this stop was a daily transfer point the way it was for Hob.

Chances were good they'd never cross paths again.

~ Wednesday it's less a downpour and more a light shower, but it's still enough that an umbrella is practical.

And Hob is absolutely delighted as he steps off his first bus to see that Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Emo is there again, and again without an umbrella, hunched ineffectually into the collar of his coat and resembling nothing so much as a disgruntled wet cat. He perks up distinctly as Hob approaches with his umbrella angled forward in offering.

"You gallantly come to my rescue yet again." He tilts his head and glances up through lush black lashes, just this side of coy. "I thank you, sincerely, Mr…?"

"Hob, I'm Hob. Just Hob. You can call me Hob." Not his most suave, certainly, but this blatantly-flirtatious greeting atop his own delight has somewhat stolen his functioning brain cells.

"Hob," the guy repeats, unhurried, like he's savoring the taste of the name in his mouth, and smiles just a little bit. "You may call me Dream."

"Pleased to run into you again, Dream." Hob dimples brightly, delighted with the turn his day has taken, delighted that they've made proper introductions. "How was the head-clearing, the other day?"

"Effective." The guy—Dream—crowds close under the umbrella (Hob's largest, which he had pulled out yesterday just in case) and smooths the clinging water from his hair with one hand. His (damp) shoulder is firmly pressed against Hob's and his profile is absolutely beautiful, this close. Hob tries not to stare.

"Got your creativity flowing again, did it?"

"I managed to finish a very troublesome chapter Monday evening, yes."

Hob perks up at this new tidbit of information. "You're a writer, then?"

He gives a short nod, staring out into the rain, then glances sideways at Hob. "I have you to thank for my progress, also."

"Me?"

"The stories you shared…you inspired a direction for the scene that was plaguing me. I came out yesterday, with intent to thank you, but you were not here…?"

His voice lilts up just a touch on the end of his sentence, curiosity expressed without actually voicing the question, and Hob just smiles. "Yeah, Tuesday's my early-morning class. Sorry I missed you."

"No matter. I have now left the house three days in a row and my sister is distressingly pleased about it. She says it is good for my mental health."

"And what do you think?"

He sighs, heavily. "She is not incorrect." He glances sideways at Hob again, eyes narrowed prettily. "But I am not going to admit it to her."

Hob laughs; he can't help it. "You are so completely valid for that," he says, and when Dream smiles in return his spirits soar.

~ "Remembered your umbrella this time, I see!" Hob ignores the little pang of disappointment; just because he doesn't need to share his umbrella with Dream this time doesn't mean they can't still have a conversation.

"My sister reminded me, yes," Dream answers, and then to Hob's great surprise he lowers and closes the umbrella. "But I would prefer to share yours, if you're amenable." His eyes flick up, just a hint of hopeful uncertainty showing there.

"Of course." Hob moves close, brings his umbrella over Dream's head, heart thudding in his chest with delight. He hopes the great spreading grin on his face doesn't put Dream off; he can't quite get it under control.

If Dream notices, he gives no indication. "This routine is working well for me," he says, and it takes Hob a second to cotton on to what he means.

"What, catching the bus in the rain every morning?"

"Yes," Dream says serenely. "The company is. Refreshing." The corners of his mouth tilt up the smallest bit.

"Nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Hob says, making a valiant effort to sound normal while something warm blooms in the vicinity of his heart. He shifts the umbrella, making sure they're both still sheltered.

"Writing flows more easily when I return home after our morning conversations," Dream says, as if this is something they've been doing for weeks instead of just days. "I shall have to credit you in my author's notes."

Hob laughs, absolutely delighted. "That is extremely flattering, my friend, but wholly unnecessary. But if I'm at all helpful? I'm glad."

One day maybe he'll ask if he can see Dream's writing, when they've been acquainted for more than a week; one day further, perhaps, he'll ask him on a date. It certainly seems he'd be amenable, but Hob knows himself and his tendency to rush in full-tilt and tells himself there's no harm in just. Seeing what happens, for a little while.

~ "Share my umbrella?"

Dream looks askance at him, hair fluttering prettily across his forehead in the breeze. "It is not raining, Hob."

"Well no, but. Bit windy, isn't it? Wouldn't want you to suffer any windburn. Umbrella makes a decent wind-break." He has oh-so-smoothly said 'wind' three times in ten seconds, and it is the flimsiest of excuses to begin with, but Dream only smiles as if he's said something profoundly wise.

"Indeed. Truly, I am fortunate to receive your continued chivalry." He crowds in close to Hob, who angles the umbrella behind them to keep the wind off, and smiles.

~ The other patrons at the bus stop are giving Hob weird looks as he opens his umbrella, but there's only one person here whose opinion matters.

Dream tilts one eyebrow up, amused. "The sun is shining today, Hob Gadling. Yet still you offer your umbrella?"

"It's tradition, at this point. And besides—got a very fair complexion, haven't you? Bit of shade will do you good."

"…As you say." His smile is radiant as the sunshine, and Hob's heart thumps happily. "Thank you."

~ It's been about a month since that first meeting when Hob leaves campus for the afternoon and finds Dream waiting at the college bus stop. The morning's rain has cleared throughout the day but now rises again as a light drizzly mist; Dream is huddled into the meager shelter offered over the bench while pulling out his umbrella. Hob hurries over with his own already deployed, playing into their established pattern.

"Fancy meeting you here?" he greets, smiling. He's delighted to run into Dream outside their developed routine, and the way that Dream kind of blooms to see him is very satisfying.

"Hob. At last," Dream smiles, ducking under Hob's broad umbrella.

"Been waiting long?"

"…Somewhat. You see. I have. A question, I would like to ask you. An important one." The gravity in his tone is clear, and Hob might be worried if it wasn't so plainly obvious that Dream was nervous. "But I do not know your schedule, beyond your morning commute, and so…"

"Have you just been hanging around half the day waiting for me to show up?" Hob is equal parts appalled and delighted.

Dream meets his eyes briefly, glance flicking away again too quickly to interpret as anything other than confirmation. "Perhaps."

Hob laughs, aware he should possibly be alarmed by what any normal person would read as stalking behavior but utterly charmed by it instead. "Your patience has its reward, then. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I…ah." Dream colors prettily, the faintest pink flush across his cheeks as he stumbles over actually speaking his question, and Hob is rapidly escalating from 'charmed' to 'enamoured'. "I am not. Good, at—at—"

"Obviously it was important enough to identify my most likely location and wait hours for me to show up, right?" Hob cuts in gently. "Go ahead. I promise I won't judge you." He can hear the fondness seeping into his own voice, and apparently so can Dream. He lifts wide eyes to Hob, lips pressed together resolutely, and heaves a fortifying breath out through his nose.

"I wish to ask. Would you like to have dinner sometime. Or. Or coffee, perhaps."

The bus pulls up at that exact moment, disgorging a single passenger; Hob barely hesitates before waving the driver on.

"That was our bus?" Dream states, lilting up in such a way that it's clear he means Why did we not board, why are we still standing here?

"Well, yes," Hob agrees, very aware of the size of the dopey grin on his face. "But you see, a very dear friend of mine has just asked if I might like a bite to eat with him, and I know the most amazing little spot right around the corner."

"That. That is 'yes', then? Now?" Dream seems delightedly flummoxed, and it ratchets Hob straight up to 'besotted'. How could Dream think he'd ever say anything else? Although it occurs to him belatedly Dream might have other obligations for the evening.

"Well 'now' is certainly 'sometime', yes? If you're free, that is. If you've something else you have to do—"

"No. Nothing else," Dream cuts him off, and the warm smile spreading over his face makes Hob's heart skip a beat. "There is nowhere I should like to be more, just now."

Of course not, not when he'd dedicated the bulk of his day to waiting for Hob just to ask him out. "Wonderful. Shall we?" He offers his arm, angling the umbrella to keep the misty sprinkle off them still.

Dream tucks a hand into his elbow and falls into step beside him.

~ "Wanna try mine?" Hob offers, plucking a crispy slab of cheese from his plate with a bit of everything on it and holding it out, other hand cupped underneath. They are talking over plates of halloumi fries; Hob had gone for his favorite—smothered in pomegranate molasses and za'atar yoghurt with pomegranate arils and fresh mint garnish—and Dream had taken his drizzled in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

"Thank you, I am fine," Dream says, rote politeness in his voice but curiosity in his eyes, and Hob arches a brow.

"Worried you'll have to spend a month stuck with me for each pomegranate seed?"

"That would hardly dissuade me," Dream replies, with a sweet little smile that hits Hob straight in the gut. "Very well, since you offer so generously." He leans forward, grasps Hob's wrist instead of the proffered food, and bites through the warm-crusted cheese while Hob's still holding it, lips brushing Hob's fingers as he pulls back.

He chews, making a contemplative face, and gently plucks the rest of it from Hob's hand while Hob is still scrambling to reboot his poor blue-screening brain and not make a fool of himself.

"Do you know," Hob blurts, grasping for anything, "whatever Persephone might have eaten in the underworld, it would've bound her there the same? It wasn't just because it was a pomegranate?"

"I did know that, yes," Dream replies, and Hob feels the flush of having said something fairly stupid rising into his face. "The pomegranate is a tidy choice for enumerating the months she stays below, I think, with the countable seeds." He plucks one of the ruby-red arils from the cheese that Hob had given him between two delicate fingertips and places it in his mouth, eyes on Hob in a way that makes him lose his brain again.

"Yes that's. Good point," Hob tries, and thankfully Dream pops the rest of the halloumi fry into his mouth without any fanfare or continued eye contact.

"I can see why you like this," Dream says, once his mouth is empty. "It is a wonderful blend of flavors. But the honey-sesame remains my favorite." He takes a bite from his own plate, and Hob tries not to fixate on the casual way he licks the honey off his rose-petal lips.

"I wrote an alternate version of Persephone's story, once," Dream says then, eyes not exactly meeting Hob's or even on his face, darting between his shoulder and his sternum and dropping back to his plate. "I made it her choice; they met and fell in love long before the abduction, which was closer to an elopement. She ate the pomegranate seeds deliberately so as not to be taken away from the partner she had chosen. In my version, it was the pomegranate specifically that would bind her."

"That sounds brilliant," Hob says, feeling a little starry-eyed; Dream has never really talked specifics about his writing before. "I'd love to read it sometime."

"It. Was many many years ago, before I ever considered publication," Dream admits, barely glancing up at Hob, still a little skittish. "I thought it a unique idea at the time, but there are dozens of Persephone remixes to be had and I have never felt it warranted the effort of reworking it from my current skill level or attempting to publish."

"Well for what it's worth, your version is the remix I'd be most interested in reading," Hob says, utterly sincere, smiling from ear to ear. "If you ever wanted to share, that is." He bites into another halloumi fry and speaks around it. "I would never pressure you to let me read your stuff if you don't want to. But I'm always interested."

"…Thank you." Dream covers his awkwardness with another dainty bite from his own plate, a hint of pink dusting across his cheekbones. When his mouth is empty again, he offers, "Mostly I have written. Romance."

"Oh?"

"Not under my own name. But yes."

"See it's fascinating that pseudonyms are so prevalent through the ages, and for so many reasons," Hob starts, and as the conversation turns in this new direction Hob does not miss how Dream relaxes to have the focus shifted from the vulnerable personal glimpse of himself he'd offered.

And Hob maybe falls a little bit deeper.

~ It's still lightly raining three hours later; they've talked about so many things, they've had dessert and then had coffee since neither of them were ready to leave yet. It's dark by the time they finally head back to the bus stop; Dream presses up against Hob's side beneath the umbrella and Hob thrills at the warmth, the closeness, the graceful slide of Dream's hand into his and the way he doesn't let go until the bus shows up.

~ It's raining again the first time Hob kisses Dream, pulling him close beneath the umbrella outside the theater, one finger tipped beneath Dream's chin; the kiss is tentative, but Dream's mouth is warm and the way he lists gently forward has Hob coming back again, soft and sweet and smiling helplessly.

~ Three straight days of rain are clearing on the afternoon that Dream takes Hob to the bookstore and leads him to the romance section, points him to a shelf in the 'M's where there are a dozen or so titles by Morpheus, mononymous. Hob doesn't make the connection for a second, and then he does.

"Is this you?" he asks, reaching for one of the hardbacks, and sure enough there's Dream's photo inside the dust jacket, solemn and styled and somehow less authentic than the Dream standing nervously next to him.

"Yes," Dream confirms, and soft warmth floods Hob's chest. Dream has been very reserved about his writing—"It is one thing to publish for strangers, but I find it…much more difficult to share, when it is someone whose opinon matters to me personally," he'd said once, and being trusted, opened up to like this—Hob is not oblivious to the privilege of it.

"You've certainly written a lot," he says, warmth and fondness curling in his chest. "And you're okay with me reading any of these?"

"Yes; however—" he reaches into the messenger bag slung over his hip, withdraws a large clear envelope with what looks like a manuscript inside. "If you wish to read my writing, I would have you begin with this." He hands it to Hob.

Hades and Persephone: The Morpheus Remix the paper proclaims through the plastic, and Hob looks up at Dream, delighted. "Is this—?"

"It needs a proper title." Dream shrugs, hunches into his coat a little bit. "I would like—perhaps you might help me come up with one, as it was you who inspired me to revisit and update it."

Hob cannot for the life of him stop the broad smile that overtakes his face, is not even trying. "I would be honored."

~ It is raining buckets the night that Dream comes home with Hob, and even the umbrella is not enough to prevent their getting a bit wet. But that's alright, Hob thinks, with Dream's eager mouth warm and hungry on his as they move in the direction of his bedroom, it's not like their clothes were staying on anyway.

He lays Dream gently in his bed, covers him with his own body, makes love to him with slow and ardent urgency while the rain lashes against his window. Later, after, when the winds have calmed and thunder rumbles soothingly in the distance, he holds Dream curled against him, asleep, and he thinks. He thinks about umbrellas, and shielding, and guardedness, and how Dream has slowly gifted so many of his vulnerabilities to Hob; he thinks about the duality of potential in that realization, the power it gives him to either harm or protect, and vows to himself that he will always be Dream's metaphorical umbrella when it's within his capabilities.

~ It's sprinkling just a little when Hob realizes that he's going to marry Dream.

It's early Autumn and they're at the park; Dream is under his own umbrella (look, sometimes sharing just isn't practical, as much as Hob still loves faithfully carrying on their schtick), scattering peas and grapes for the ducks and Hob is hanging back, watching him with an aching fondness in his heart.

Dream is beautiful, and thoughtful, and engaging. He is guarded and private, but so warm and emotional and giving once he has let you in. He is smart, and witty, with the driest sense of humor and the most endearingly terrible laugh and Hob has fallen desperately in love with him along the way.

He watches as a particularly bold duck comes close and snaps up the pea that had fallen directly at the toe of Dream's boot; watches the soft delight that steals over Dream's face, and he knows.

~ It is the following Spring before he asks. They are at the bus stop where they first met and it's a bright sunny day; Hob's got the umbrella up and they're shoulder-to-shoulder beneath it. Dream is animated, excited, talking about his editor's latest feedback on his Persephone remix (The Seeds of Fate, they had decided to call it), and Hob is listening, very much interested but so so nervous. The little velvet box on his pocket is weighty, not physically of course but he can't stop touching it, hoping Dream will say yes, believing Dream will say yes.

At last, Dream turns to him, a little wrinkle of concern between his brows. "You feel…distracted; is everything alright?"

Hob smiles at him, entirely and wholeheartedly in love. He hooks the hand holding the umbrella with Dream's so their fingers are tangled together around it; he leans his forehead against Dream's, closes his eyes. "I have a question, I'd like to ask you. An important one." It's a deliberate echo of how Dream had asked him out more than a year ago; Hob can picture the way Dream smiles to recognize it, can feel one eyebrow lifting against his own.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the little box from his pocket and clicks the lid open. "Will you marry me?"

It's a quiet request, pitched low so the other couple people at the bus stop don't overhear, so that if Dream does wish to say no, he won't be under the public pressure of strangers to say yes for appearances' sake. Not that Hob expects him to say no.

He hopes he doesn't say no.

Dream pulls back and Hob opens his eyes, meeting the surprise and delight and disbelief in Dream's. Dream looks down at the ring in the open box in Hob's hand, touches a fingertip to the velvet-covered lid delicately, looks back up at Hob with joy blossoming in his face.

"Do you mean it? Truly?"

Hob swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, squeezes gently where his hand is tangled with Dream's around the handle of the umbrella. "More than anything," he murmurs, entranced by the gathering shine of happy tears in Dream's eyes. "Marry me. Please."

Dream makes a joyful little noise, wrenches his hand free and throws both arms around Hob's neck, kissing him soundly. Hob manages to snap the ring box closed and swing the umbrella low, wraps both arms around Dream's waist and kisses him back.

"Yes," Dream breathes wetly when they part a moment later. "Yes, of course yes, a thousand times, yes."

~ They marry in the park in August, the clouds high and the breeze warm. Hob puts up the umbrella when they reach the crux of the ceremony; he holds its history over them while they say their vows, while they slip rings on one another's fingers, and then they seal their marriage with a tender heartfelt kiss beneath its promise of care and protection.

= Started: 2/3/24 Drafted: 2/24/24 Posted: 2/25/24

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 3: umbrella seashore mist Day 4: camera lush beau Day 5: rescue inertia lullaby Day 6: tie embarrassment* dessert Day 7: potatoes blue glass Day 8: shower blessed layer Day 9: urgency kneel rural Day 10: flush angel owl Day 11: reflection water apology Day 12: graceful volcano blanket Day 18: suave cologne gradual* Day 19: teacakes flood feature Day 20: smooth glitters queen Day 23: rhythm chalk humor Day 24: spring fuzzy silky

*The word did not get used but the concept is very much in there

✨✨✨ Sequel: Love Rain Down On Me ✨✨✨

#TJs Fics #Fluffbruary 2024 #TJs Fluffbruary #Dreamling #Sandman #wip: umbrella boys

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facecollapsedthroughentropy · 6 months

Text

Long Way Home (M.H)

Summary: Heading home with a very tipsy Matty, who's too cute for his own good.

Word Count: 648

Warnings: Use of alcohol

Author's note: Hope you guys like this short little imagine, and as mentioned before: Asks and requests are open! I'd be more than happy to accept them.

The air was sticking to her skin and the whole room was thumping, a low bass spread throughout and within. The noise was blending into one, the laughter of the drunken crowd, the club classics egging everyone on, the occasional shouts of a name, and the little whisper of: "There you are, love."

She turned around, focus set on the voice that had just appeared behind her. She knew exactly who the man tumbling on both of his feet was, hands gripping onto her frame in desperation.

"Matty," she sighed softly, somehow relieved to see his face again after losing him in the crowd yet also concerned, seeing the state he was in.

He hummed as her hands came to rest on his waist, an act of stability. He smiled goopily, a twinkle in his eyes as his forehead came to rest on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she spoke into his ear, to which he responded with a quick nod of his head.

"Couldn't be better, now that I found you." he mumbled into her skin, putting his whole body weight onto the girl, leading to her tumbling behind a bit.

"Ironic to hear from someone who can barely stand," she chuckled out, trying to balance herself with him leaning onto her.

"I can very much stand on my own, thank you!" he huffed out in frustration, backing away from her support and demonstrating his skills by standing still on his feet.

Ultimately, he failed. His two left feet tripping over eachother in some bizarre way, looking like he was demonstating a new dance move he had learned as he almost came crashing down to the muggy floor.

"Matty!" she gasped as she reached to put her arms around him, somehow saving him from collapsing.

He blinked at her, her arms around his waist and his gripping her shoulders. He opened his mouth to defend his antics, only to close it when she shot him a mean look.

"'M sorry," he murmured in a defeated tone.

"It's alright, honey. Really," she said, reaching up to quickly adjust his tie and move his curls out of his sight.

"You think it's time to go home yet?" she teased him slightly, loving to take the piss out of him, even more in his overly tipsy state.

"Stop it!" he cried out, embarassed that probably everyone saw his little show.

"Come on now, cutting the drinks for tonight! Don't want to carry you home on my back," she laughed out, walking through the crowd cautiously with a whole body leaning onto her side.

"Fine... only because I love you. And because Ross stole my last drink," he muttered the last part, leading to her swatting his shoulder.

"Hey!" he scowled jokingly.

"That didn't hurt, crybaby! You know you always bite me," she mocked, followed by a soft sting on her neck and a huffed laugh onto her skin.

"That was not an invite!" she gasped out at the action, his face nuzzling into her collarbone.

"You know you like it..." he breathed out, as they finally reached the exit of the humid club.

"Maybe I do," she grinned down at him, the head of curls tickling at her neck with yet another small bite following and a giggle.

"Stop messin'! Let's go now," she breathed out, calling for a cab on the curb.

"Can I atleast stay at yours tonigh? Please?" he drew out the beg, the words dripping with desperation.

"Matty, honey... We live together," she giggled at his headlessness, his cloudy state making him forget their recent move-in.

"Oh! Right!" he gasped out happily, overjoyed by the realization as a cab pulled up to the pavement, tires screeching in the quiet night.

"Let's head home, shall we!" Matty eagerly spoke as he opened the car door, losing his balance slightly.

Oh God, this was going to be a long night.

#matty healy imagine #matty healy fic #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #the 1975 fic #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 fluff #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you

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heyhilana · 2 years

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Hi. I don't know if your taking requests atm but I love your work and was wondering if I could request. Here me out - javier pena x reader. Enemies to lovers trope. Something like they work together, have a fight and wake up in each others bodies the next day. They try to embarrass each other and make things worse. Deep down they both like each other but are so stubborn they don't want to admit their feelings for one another but eventually they do and change back to normal. Sorry if that's confusing. If you can't write it that's all good :) just thought I'd ask. Thanks again.

Hi lovely 😊 Thank you for your request, and I’m sorry that this took me a little while to get to as I've been a little busy. I love the idea, and I tweaked it slightly as I didn’t know exactly what you meant when you said change back to normal so I hope that’s okay! Also, I would’ve made this strictly hate fuck but Javi...he’s just too tender in his scenes to do a hate fuck fully LMAO like we all know that infamous scene where he pulls that girl’s hair and brings her flush to him so my point stands. But, hugs and love and as always, drink water. 💚

Summary: Two unlikely and rather animosity filled partners could accurately describe you and Javi. But after a shitshow of a meeting with the bosses, tensions are pulling at the strings that create a crescendo that’s undeniable in a random office you decide to walk into. But it’s the aftermath from the next day that threatens everything of detachment and realization.

A/N: Hi, lovelies! Just to remind you all, requests are open; if and when I need to close them, I will update my masterlist to say they are closed. There is more in my masterlist about who and what I’ll write about for notes. But beyond that, this was super fun for me to write, and I got to rechallenge myself. Also, thank you so much for 1k followers! I never thought I would reach that with my inconsistency, but it means the world to me that you guys enjoy my works and you want to support me :)) But for now, I hope you enjoy reading this! :)

Pairing: Javier Peña x !f reader (enemies/coworkers to lovers)

Warnings: (What can I say? I love a little spice) Hair pulling, spanking, rough grips, orgasm denial, foul language, f and m oral receiving, cum shot on ass, unprotected because this was unexpected hate fuck (but wrap it up), a little bit of degrading, but that's all I can label.

Word Count: 6.1k (You know what it be LMAO)

“You’re an asshole.” You spat, walking out of the boardroom and turning sharply on your heel down the hall.

Asshole was an understatement. Infuriating, jerk, jackass, arrogant, intolerable, the list could go on. Javier Peña, somehow your new partner when you were sent down here, and you would’ve chosen anyone else over him. If it meant peaceful, level-headed conversations, you would’ve even taken the secretary to be your partner. Being at his throat on an everyday basis was draining, lighting fires in you every time he got under your skin.

“I could say the same about you.” Catching up to you and jaw tightening, his presence was something you wanted to shake, but you couldn’t.

“You do it every day.” A dry laugh echoed from you as you walked into the empty office, turning on the lights.

“That’s because you give me a reason to.” You half sat on the desk as he leaned against it in the doorway. How could he be so calm while your blood was boiling, the tipping mark fading into the distance.

“Oh I give you a reason when you get your ass handed to you most days.” You hissed, venom laced in your tone as you folded your arms.

“Did we go to the same meeting because you got your ass handed to you as well in there.” You wanted to forget it all. Crosby and Noonan taking turns tearing into you both over negligence and overall stupidity. A waste of 15 minutes when you could’ve been home, far away from him, since he walked further into the room.

“That’s because your fuck-up got us here.” You tried to keep your voice down as you heard your superiors leaving the building. When you both heard the elevator door open and close, you knew there was no one else there besides you two.

“My fuck-up? It was you who didn’t trust my informant.”

“Because she lies more than she tells the truth! And why would I trust any girl who you’ve been fucking more than talking to.” He narrowed his eyes at you and walked closer, this being the closest you could tolerate since you could feel something brewing in you that you couldn’t place your finger on.

“What I do is my business. I don’t let it cloud my judgment.” He looked down at you, and you kept eye contact, the glare intensifying as you cocked your head slightly.

“You sure about that?”

“What the fuck are you implying since I’m not the one who slept my way up here.” A low blow. Rumors had traveled with you the moment you arrived. The only woman who was qualified for the job, every man was against you for supposedly taking their spot when they didn’t earn it. You worked just like everyone else did, and he was only doing it to get under your skin.

“Don’t you fucking believe that I slept my way up here when you sleep your way into information that leads to fuckups.” Deflection at its finest with him, but you weren’t having it. You were going to leave, but he closed that gap between you, his legs right on yours, and you sat more on the desk. His hands were on the desk, and he was dangerously close to you, your heart pounding out of anger and curiosity about what he would do.

“I don’t let a fuck get in the way of my job. You may be new here, but this is how it goes.” His eyes had never looked so dark before, and you were unsure of why you couldn’t break eye contact with him. Infuriating, yet the pool of desire had grown significantly when you moved your legs.

“You know what? Fuck you.” You spat at him. You could tell he was taken aback by your boldness, but he remained firm where he stood.

“Fuck you.” He enunciated those words, but when you saw the flicker down to your lips ever so slightly, you felt that small stoke of the flame reach new heights.

That first brush on your lips that turned into heady, almost feral kisses was nothing that you could expect. How did he manage to have impossibly soft lips, the odd taste of whiskey that made you drunk over him. The nibble on your bottom lip, the groan that did nothing to quell your desire except intensify it. How his hands rose up your arms to pull off your suit jacket, and his fingertips brushed your exposed collarbone. You helped him with taking off the jacket, discarding it on the desk, and kicking off your heels. He pulled off his jacket and threw it somewhere as you were unbuttoning his shirt as fast as you could.

“Someone’s excited,” He mumbled against your lips, unbuttoning the last button for you and taking it off. “This what you wanted?”

“Don’t let that ego of yours get any bigger,” You mumbled back, and he nibbled on your lip in retaliation. “You’re gonna tease me now?” You pulled back to pull off your blouse, moving it on the table again before you went to unclasp your bra in the front. He stopped you, doing it himself and watching your breasts fall, which made him groan.

“You’re the one teasing me.” He countered before his lips were back on yours with more ferocity that you didn’t think was possible. His hands traveled to your breasts, and yours went up and down his body, feeling him and finally understanding why those women would throw themselves at him. Why he was so confident because he felt amazing. Sure, his arrogance got under your skin, but now you wanted him skin-to-skin with you. You moaned in his mouth when he was playing with your nipples, to which he smiled against your lips. Damn him and all the reactions he could get out of you. Fuck him, you repeated in your head, but your body was begging for him to explore you. He left your lips and kissed down your jaw and to your throat, leaving chaste kisses until that one made you whine. The laugh that followed left you embarrassed and more turned on than you wanted to admit.

“I knew you were a little noisy but whining? Something finally coming out of that mouth of yours that I like.” With that glint in his eye from the window, you could see that he enjoyed all of it. Finally having you after months of being at your throat.

“Shut up already.” You feigned annoyance, but he saw right through you.

“Be careful what you ask for.” You couldn’t come up with a retort once he put his mouth on your nipple, his tongue twirling around it, sucking, flicking it. His other hand massaged your other breast, and you instinctively opened your legs more to let him slide in between you. Even with not being a fan of nipple sucking, he made it hot. You looked down at him and saw he was looking at you, eyes a little low, but his gaze never wavering. You put your hand in his hair and tangled in it, gripping a little when he sucked harder.

“Please don’t stop,” You whined further, grinding on the desk to get some friction. He shifted his mouth to your other breast to give it the attention it deserved, and his hands traveled down to your pants, unbuttoning them without a second thought. He pulled at the hem of them, you moved your hand out of his hair, and put your feet back on the floor to get out of them with him stopping with your breasts to catch his breath. He pulled your pants and panties down for you and kissed your hips, then your thighs, your calves, and when you kicked your pants off he put you back on the desk. You leaned back a little as he put your legs on his shoulders, kneeling before you. You gripped the desk for balance as he got close to your dripping pussy, that smile on his face something that would be imprinted in your mind for a lifetime.

“You sure you hate me?” Ever the one to still push your buttons, you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t fucking stand you.” Those little white lies that you both knew were meaningless as he put two fingers right near your clit and dragged it down on the slit, gathering up your slick in one go.

“You sure about that because she’s telling me otherwise.” He held up his fingers and, just like that, coated with your desire for him that you couldn’t deny without feeling foolish.

“Fuck me.” Double meaning as you knew you were in for it and you needed him to fuck you, he kissed your clit and licked gently, making you gasp.

“Gladly.” Flattening his tongue to lick up your hole, the slit, up to your clit, then sucking your clit, and you were gone. You didn’t know how loud you could get until now, hands tangled in his hair as he switched from sucking to tasting your slick near your hole, the wave of pleasure riding through your body with each passing moment. But when those same two fingers brushed at your hole, the small push before fully slotting them inside you, you forgot how good fingering could be. Curling at your spot, the pace that matched with each suck, the moans that vibrated against your clit. You were sure if there was anyone else in the building on a different floor, they would’ve heard you. But all those rumors surrounding your insufferable partner were true.

“So fucking sweet,” He moved his head up to say that and look at you, that look on your face of pure ecstasy was something he never wanted to forget. Biting your lip, eyes a little low, slightly flushed cheeks, and then trailing down your body to see the thin layer of perspiration glowing on your skin, he felt his dick twitch in his pants from that.

“J-Javi, please I-” The all too familiar feeling in your stomach, the intensity rising as he fingered you a little faster, made you clench around his fingers.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fingers and make a mess? Déjandome usar tu coño así.” He dove back down to your clit to suck and lick just as he did before. You gripped his hair, and when he curled at that spot, you inhaled a sharp breath and let go, all the sounds you were holding back flowing out and the shutters washing over you. Riding you through it, he slowed his actions just as you stopped shaking, giving your clit a final kiss, and licking at your hole to make you jump. He then brought his fingers to his mouth and got up to show you him tasting it, the act making you clench around nothing when he pulled them out, and they were clean.

“Dulce, mami,” He mumbled before he kissed you, pulling down his pants hastily. You moved your hand down his stomach and palmed him in his boxers, surprised at his size. Even in his tight clothes, you never imagined it to feel this good, this thick. The stretch would be nothing like you imagined, making you pull away from him to get on your knees.

You pulled down his boxers and watched his dick spring up. The rosy red tip with precum leaking, the slight curve, the thickness, it was a sight for sore eyes. You looked up at him and licked your lips before kissing the tip and licking the precum to see him groan and grip the desk. You sucked the tip just enough to tease, making his jaw tighten. You enjoyed the stretch on your lips and jaw as you reached closer to the base. His hand was right at the back of your head, guiding you down nice and slow, coaxing you to take it.

“You can do it, baby. Take every inch of me.” That little praise made you go down to the base, lips touching that soft patch of hair before pulling away, spit dribbling at your lip. You spat in your hand and brought it to the tip, stroking slowly but squeezing just enough to make him hiss. He fucked himself into your tight grip, and you began to move your hand from tip to base, enjoying the way he opened up your grip with how thick he was. You sucked the tip and decided to move your hand down to his thigh to hold him in place to take him to the back of your throat.

“You feel so fucking good. Should’ve known with all that talking you do I should’ve stuffed your mouth.” His knuckles were almost white with how he gripped the desk, and you popped your lips off the tip to glare at him.

“God, you’re so infuriating.” He had a talent for getting under your skin even when you were on your knees for him.

“You’re so much worse.”

“Is this worse?” You put your lips back on the tip and looked up at him.

“N-no.” A smirk was lightly tugging at your lips when you pulled off him again.

“Aw, you’re stuttering.”

“You were doing it first,” Instead of arguing, you took him whole in one go to make him suck in a sharp breath. You kept going just like that, from tip to base taking him until you had to catch your breath and stroke the tip, flicking your wrist a little before going back down to do it again. It kept going like that, Javi was blown away at how long you wanted his shaft down your throat. But something else lingered, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

You could tell he was getting close when a slight whimper escaped his lips. So low that you almost thought it was a figment of your imagination, but it happened again. The sound lit something in you, and you had to get it again, and again, and again because with how much you loved those groans, to hear him have such desperation in his voice, so much ecstasy at your ministrations, it was a high that you never wanted to get off of.

“Right there, baby. Keep going for me, please.” The strain in his voice was evident, and somehow the curve in your mouth grew. There were two thoughts buzzing through your head, surprisingly. To swallow him whole and let him cum, or to deny? Sure, the desire was close to winning, but he had to pay after the stunt he pulled. So, you stopped everything.

“What the fuck was that?” The fire in his eyes elicited a smirk from you.

“You gotta fuck me first if you want to cum.” Toying with him, he pulled you up and pushed you onto the desk, bending you over while you knew you were getting under his skin.

“Oh I’ll fuck you.” Roughly, he pushed inside you, the sheer size making you yelp as he fucked you. Hands gripped tightly on your hips, the grunts that fell from his lips, and knowing that he was taking you just as he knew you would.

“You think it's funny to tease me, don’t you?” He smacked your ass as he thrusted inside you.

“I-I do.” He smacked your ass again, making you bite your lip and hold back your moans.

“Oh, you like the pain,” He smacked your ass three times in a row, and you were sure that it made your ass burn bright red as each sting brought more pain and pleasure from the last. “My handprint on your ass right now is perfect. Little fucking slut.” The way those words fell from his lips would normally make you angry, but it didn’t do anything but make you clench around him harder.

“F-Fuck you!” You stuttered out, pleasure blinding you as you started to meet his thrusts halfway.

“F-Fuck you too.” He pulled you by your hair, and the glimpse you got of light sweat dripping down his face, head full of hair a mess, gritting words through his teeth was breathtaking. He moved your head back down and let go of your hair, resting his hand back on your hip.

You whined a little, feeling your orgasm approach quickly. From how he stretched you out and brushed up against your pleasure spot, you knew it would come quicker than you could anticipate. You wanted to cum without him noticing, but with the pulsing you did all around his shaft, he knew that you were trying to play it off.

“Feels like you want to cum,” He trailed off as he moved one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing tight and fast circles enough to make you jolt up.

“Yes, I need to cum.” You rasped out, barely making a coherent thought in your head. He fucked you through it just until you were about to cum, even denying himself an orgasm before he pulled out, making you turn your head to look at him.

“You thought I would let you cum? So naïve.” He laughed while you were fuming. Why did you think he would let you cum twice after the stunt you pulled? And, more importantly, why were you in this position?

“I fucking hate you.” You gritted through your teeth, getting ready to move away and get dressed, but he stopped you, gripping your hip with one hand to keep you in place.

“I hate you so much more.” He pushed back inside you, and you were relieved to feel him again, even with your mind telling you that he was the enemy. An enemy who could play with your body while simultaneously getting under your skin, bringing you to ecstasy faster than any man could.

But for him, hearing you loosen up on him, the regular insults transforming into breathless moans as your body begging for him changed something in him. A hate fuck that he was used to, getting it out of the way before he would go home to drink and go to sleep. But this? No, he was transfixed on giving you more than he normally would, even if you were everything that he couldn’t stand.

Suddenly, a twitch was felt right up on your spot as your intense pulses increasing with each second. His hand went back down to your clit to rub faster circles, and he bent down just enough to get a little closer to your ear.

“You gonna cum? Use that pretty mouth of yours and scream my name.” Deep, a little raspy even as he encouraged you to cum, you let go and squeezed all around him as you came, much to his pleasure as he tried to ride it out for you. Just as he couldn’t hold it anymore, he pulled out in a haste to cum on your ass. Heavy breaths, body shaking, mind empty, you both were spent. Drunk off the other's touch and how you both felt, you knew you did something that would cause issues in the morning. He moved off to grab a tissue from the desk, wiping off your other ass cheek that he came on and admiring the light handprint on your ass.

“That’s gonna be pretty in the morning.” He commented as he got up. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your clothes which were all over the place, putting them on quickly.

“How does everything that comes out of your mouth annoy me?” You put your blouse back on and looked at him as he put his shirt back on.

“Just before you were enjoying my words.” Your face burned after he spoke, turning your head while you pulled on your panties and then pants.

“That doesn’t count,” You trailed off, voice not as strong as usual given that you knew you were lying.

“Right,” He pulled on his pants, walking over to you to tilt your head up when he finished. “I can go for round 2 at your place.” Your eyes lit up at those words, and you smirked.

“Follow me home then.”

The Colombian sun shined through your bedroom window, cascading a shadow on your bed as you stirred in your sleep. The window was open, making your room a little bit rise in temperature by noon, and you could faintly hear the cars driving down the street. The sheets tangled, limbs as well, an arm lazily wrapped around your waist, you were close to thinking that you were still dreaming. Your back felt warm, and there was a soft rumble hitting your upper back with each breath he took. Finally, you opened your eyes, seeing that the sun was higher in the sky, which you were not used to seeing so much in your apartment. You turned to face Javi, seeing that he was fast asleep, snoring softly as he was undisturbed by your shift in bed.

Somehow, he looks softer than you’ve ever seen him. The sheet rested just above his hip bone, trailing up, you could see his tan skin, the soft expanse of his stomach, his chest, his collarbone, his neck, up to his face. That damned face of his. 12 hours ago, and you couldn’t stand the sight of him, yet he was tangled in your bed, snoring softly. If you didn’t remember that he was the enemy still, you would’ve stared at him until you couldn’t anymore, but when you turned over to finally look at your clock, and it read 8:00 am, you were fucked.

“Shit. I’m late.” You sprung out of bed to close your window. Javi stirred as he rubbed his eyes.

“What time is it?”

“8:00 am. We have to meet Noonan by 8:30.” You rushed it out as you tried to find clean clothes, cursing yourself for not getting up. That alarm you had to set faded into the distance when you brought him to your bed last night. The way his lips felt on your neck made all your thoughts melt away as you let him take you once more.

“Fuck, you’re right.” He got out of bed fast, trying to find his clothes that were discarded in your room. It didn’t take much last night to help him undress, although it was slower, less hasty. The air felt different the second go around, with no pesky insults to throw the other off the scent of surface-level tension, culminating into something more. It was just you and him, using every inch of the bed for as long as you could keep your eyes open. You both put your clothes on and were headed for the door when you turned to face him, your face burning at how this would play out.

“What are we going to tell Noonan?” You asked, and his incredulous look made you sink further into embarrassment.

“What do you mean what do we tell her?”

“She’s going to ask why we’re both late, so we need an excuse.” Perhaps you were overthinking it, trying to avoid the other question that was burning in your head worse than a typical hangover.

“Just act how you normally act and I’ll do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard since this was just a one-time thing.” He brushed it off and walked ahead of you, and it stung in your heart more than his usual banter with you. Nothing was what he thought. Nothing to him when it meant everything to you when he was coaxing you into new highs for him, to unwind for him and let him get to the deepest parts of you. Nothing. Nothing for him, and it was nothing for you as you walked out the door.

“Got it.” The hardness in your voice surprised him when you didn’t catch his eyes again. You were the same as you were yesterday, stoic and angry as he knew you to be most of the time. Yet he realized he liked it more the way you were last night and how he was much softer with you. To have it all again would be nice, but those dreams of tomorrow were not promised in the lives you both lived.

A traffic-filled drive later, you and Javi were in the elevator waiting to see Noonan. You both look disheveled, even with fixing yourself in the car as you drove, but it would still get some comments from her that you didn’t need. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, and you both walked there as fast as you could, seeing that Noonan’s door was ajar. You walked in first, and Javi followed. and Noonan looked just the same as last night, making you wish you didn’t have to see her today.

“You both look like you went through a pigsty.” She pushed her papers to the side and darted her eyes between you both.

“Shower’s broken.” You made up, and you could see Noonan was fighting to roll her eyes at you.

“Well get it fixed.”

“Will do.” It was best to speak less around her, and when her attention was redirected to Javi, you were in the clear.

“What’s your excuse Peña? Couldn’t bother to iron?” Javi had a backup outfit in his car, yet it was wrinkled, and you could only imagine why that was the case.

“The iron broke yesterday. Didn’t have time to buy another one.” She didn’t buy it at all, and if you weren’t still pissed from earlier, you would’ve fought back a laugh.

“You have time to fuck up everything else but not get ready. Your priorities are wonderful,” You had to stifle a laugh there, or else she would chew you in again. “Just get your shit done and try to fix yourselves up.”

“Understood.” You both spoke in unison.

“And that meeting yesterday was a disaster. I’ve never had partners go against each other like that to save their ass.”

“With all due respect, Y/L/N went out on a limb and I didn’t have much of a choice. She wouldn’t trust my informant even after she met her.” You turned your head to look at him, the urge to slap him making you ball your hand into a fist.

“You seem to make a lot of choices for yourself without much thought, Peña. Don’t act like you have reservations now.”

“Peña’s informant has lied multiple times now, only with some of her intel being useful. I didn’t trust her with this because it could’ve led us to a death trap and he keeps going to her anyways. I had to do what made sense.” The damage control was useless once more, as you could see the irritation in her eyes.

“What would’ve made sense was to follow protocol. You went completely off the rails and were going to put yourself in danger without telling anyone. For that I should send you back to the States.”

“I’m sorry about what I did. It won’t happen it again.” Javi didn’t say anything, and you presumed it was that she wouldn’t believe he was sorry anyways.

“You’re right, it won’t. Figure out how to work together or I’ll put you both on desk duty permanently somewhere else. Now go take care of that paperwork Juarez left on your desks.”

“Yes ma’am.” You both walked out, reminiscent of the night before as you were fuming again. You walked straight to your desk and saw the stacks of files that were as tall as you are right in the middle. Javi’s was a little bit larger, and you wished someone else could help. You sat down and began to sort through them, ignoring the stare he was giving you.

“Your hair looks like it got tangled in a fan.” You scoffed, his first words to you being an insult like always.

“Could say the same for you. You could go undercover as a shaggy dog.”

“You seemed to like it last night.”

“That was a mistake.” You gritted through your teeth. You didn’t look, but you could feel the air shift between you two.

“You’re right. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He was stoic, maybe a little angry, even when he didn’t have the right to be. After all, it was his idea to treat it as such.

“I’m just following what you said this morning. Nothing remotely special about what happened.” While you were talking to him, deep down, you were reassuring yourself that this was all it was as you read through the files and tried to finish them off. Distractions from how your body shivered from the memories of last night, how he said those sweet little nothings that would echo in your mind longer than they should.

“Something’s finally useful in that head of yours.”

“I’m surprised you have thoughts at all. You only seem to think when it’s about saving your ass.” You took a quick glance and saw he was fuming and doing a terrible job of hiding it.

“I missed it when you weren’t speaking.” He muttered, finishing a file and sliding it over in haste.

“And I can’t wait to get away from you.” You replied, busying yourself with files as you could feel the pang in your heart grow with each passing moment. You blinked away your tears as you thought about last night, returning you to a better place.

Brushing your hair out of your face, the gentle kiss on your forehead. Sweet nothings as he went slow. Completely drunk off of both times, but the second one made you squeeze his hand as he thrusted into you. Again, and again, and again.

Nightfall came, and you were finished with your files. Javi had finished 20 minutes before you did, leaving without saying goodnight. You turned off the light at your desk and grabbed your things, passing by the office for a moment which made you stop in your tracks. Nearly 24 hours ago, he had you bent over in there and then, shortly after, gave you a much tender, softer side of him that you couldn’t stop thinking about. Now, it was as if nothing happened when you wanted to talk about it. Hell, you wanted it to happen again, and again, and again. He made your existence hell, but when you thought about things as you walked into the office, you thought about who he really was. His efforts were unconventional, but he had to get his hands dirty after doing this for a long time. And even with how he pushed back on your efforts, he had reason, as did you. Maybe you had him pegged wrong, but you were going to stick to what you said before. It was nothing, despite it making you feel everything.

You went to the elevator and hit the garage level, fighting back tears as they threatened to fall before you got in the car. What were you feeling over one night? Was the first time what tipped you over the edge, or was it the second time? That damned second time shouldn’t have happened. But you didn’t want to regret it, not when it replayed in your head.

“That’s it. Take it all for me.”

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

"Tomándome tan bien."

And a little phrase that went over your head.

“Eres mía.”

Before you knew it, the elevator dinged, and you reached the garage level. You walked out and saw that Javi was there on the left waiting for you.

“I thought you left 20 minutes ago.” You asked, but you didn’t look at him. Not when your eyes were still a little glassy and you didn’t want to be that vulnerable.

“I was, but I waited so I could tail you on the way home.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Now he cares. Now he wants to be nice.

“I’m good, Javi. I can take care of myself alright? I have my gun and my knife so there’s no need to worry.” You were beginning to walk off but he caught your wrist and pulled you back.

“There’s sicarios out there. I can’t let you go out there like that.” You finally looked at him and saw his eyes were a little glassy too. Surely you were imagining it. You had to be.

“Why do you care?” Voice trembling, you were letting a wall down with him.

“I…I don’t. I’m just making sure you don’t become the next example for them.” Somehow that beat he took before speaking gave you everything you needed to know.

“You never did this before.”

“I’m not gonna make it a habit.” If he was going to close up, so were you. You took his hand off your wrist and moved back.

“I don’t expect you to. You’re just doing your job I guess.” You regretted asking that question, and your feet were itching to run to your car.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, Javi. Just go home and leave me be.” Your feet begged to run, but your heart kept you right in place.

“Answer me.”

“I don’t have to. It didn’t mean anything just like none of this means anything.” Tears welled again just as your heart swelled from pain. Why couldn’t you leave? What was seeing him get closer to you, grabbing your hands and interlocking them that made you want more?

“This doesn’t mean anything to you?” He caught your gaze and you couldn’t escape it. You sucked in a breath, savoring it before answering.

“No.”

“You hesitated.” He squeezed your hand and you squeezed back.

“Does it mean anything to you?” You countered.

“Don’t put this on me.” Damn him for calling you out for the reversal.

“You asked.”

“Be honest with me. Did you think about what we did last night at all today?” His voice was softer, the hint of desperation laced in that pulled at your heartstrings.

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

“Okay, maybe. Did you?” That maybe held you from admitting it completely, but the glimmer of hope that flashed in his eyes made you realize that it meant something to him.

“All day today. I couldn’t stop.” He was a little breathless, the weight of that finally off his shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t care.” He sighed when you spoke.

“Did you believe me for a second when I said it?”

“I had my doubts but I wasn’t sure. Did you believe me?”

“No. Not then, not now.” He squeezed your hand again, pulling you a little closer. He opened his mouth but closed it just as fast, making you wonder what he wanted to say.

“You’re hesitating on asking me something.” He averted his eyes from you but you caught his gaze again.

“Well if you’re going to dodge the truth I won’t ask.”

“I’ll be honest. I swear.”

“Do you want that to happen again…and more?” The vulnerability in his voice was evident with the pause he took, his voice cracking just enough that you knew you weren’t in this by yourself.

“I do. Do you?”

“Yeah. I do.” That was all you needed to hear before you took the leap. That leap led you to kiss him softly, pouring all those buried feelings into it, knowing that you were finally happy. Happiest with him, even with what would come after. He pulled back but he let go of your hands and put them on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb against them.

“I’m sorry about what I said to you before. I never believed the rumors because you proved yourself. And I’m sorry for what I did earlier with Noonan. You were right about my informant even when I didn’t want to believe it.” Sincerity in his voice and his eyes, you gave him a warm smile that you didn’t know you had in you after all this time being down here.

“It’s okay. And I’m sorry for accusing you of letting things like your informants get in the way of your job. I know we both want the same thing we just have different ways of getting it done.” The smile that was etched onto his face made you smile a little wider, two grinning agents as if they were teens crushing on each other.

“I think we want two things.” You cocked your head to the side as his smile changed into a smirk.

“You sure?” You challenged, and he kissed you again, which was deeper and more passionate. Somehow, you didn’t think you would get enough of his kisses anytime soon.

“Positive.”

“Tail me home then.”

Translations:

Déjandome usar tu coño así - Letting me use your pussy like this.

Dulce - Sweet (you guys should know what mami is LMAO)

Tomándome tan bien - You're taking me so well.

Eres mía - You're mine.

#javier pena smut #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena x you #javier pena angst #javier pena/reader #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #narcos fic #pedropascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #lanawrites #coworkers to lovers #slight enemies to lovers #i say slight because it's not full blown but its there

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kissmyspaceace · 2 years

Text

Papa's New Assistant (Papa Emeritus III)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III/Reader

Warnings/contents: NSFW, a bit of angst, a bit of bully behaviour, flirty Terzo, emotionally unstable Terzo

Word count: 7.741

BASED ON THIS ASK

AO3 link

________________________________

"Oh, Sister (Y/N), thank you for coming!"

You gave a polite smile and a nod as you entered Sister Imperator's office. "How can I be of help, Sister Imperator?"

"I have good news for you. The position of Papa Emeritus III's clergy assistant is unoccupied as of recently. And I wanted to ask you to take the position, before anyone else", she explained.

"Oh! This position is usually very popular with the Sisters. I'm surprised you'd bother to ask me, when most Sisters would fist fight each other for this job", you admitted, giggling a little.

Sister Imperator laughed. "That is true. And that is also exactly why I thought I'd ask someone who is unlikely to get caught up in a physical fight over the position."

“Makes sense”, you replied.

“What do you say? Would you like to give it a try?”, she asked, smiling kindly.

You pondered for a little moment. The position was indeed very popular, however, no Sister kept the position for a long time. Sometimes there’d be a new assistant after a few days, or a few weeks. The longest time this position had been kept by the same Sister must have been about 4 or 5 weeks. Many siblings of sin were oblivious to this, or didn’t question it. It was just a thing you noticed. Normally this should’ve made the job unattractive to you, but you were actually pretty curious about the reason behind it.

“I will give it a try, Sister Imperator. Thank you for choosing me”, you said with a smile and bowed your head respectfully.

After a lengthy introduction of what your position as Papa’s clergy assistant would entail, Sister Imperator ordered you to take the rest of the day off, so you could start fresh the following morning. And so you did. With a notebook in hand, you headed for Papa Emeritus III’s study first thing after breakfast. You were excited for this new job. For one, you felt a little bit of pride when you thought about how Sister Imperator had chosen you, out of all, personally. And besides that, your curiosity about working with Papa Terzo was through the roof. Why did every Sister want to work with him so badly, only to be stripped of the position after a short amount of time?

You arrived in front of his office. The large wooden door was engraved with the words 'Papa Emeritus III - Study chambers'. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door three times.

"Yes, do enter", a deep voice somewhere behind the door said.

Gently, you opened the door and entered the room. Your eyes met his eyes, one white and the other one a mysterious green. When your gazes locked, the corners of his mouth moved upwards a bit. “Ah, Sister (Y/N). What a pleasant surprise. Did I forget my documents in the library again? Or is Sister Imperator sending a message?”, he chirped with a cheeky smirk on his face.

“Good morning, Papa. I see you remember my name”, you said gleefully, “But I’m afraid I’m here for neither of those.”

Papa Terzo raised his brows and leaned back in his office chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “How could I forget your name, cara? Only last week you came running after me, handing me important documents I had accidentally left in the dining hall. But that’s beside the point - why is it you’re here? I’m curious now.”

Your eyebrow twitched, remembering last week’s incident very well. Sometimes you cursed your own kindness, considering how it had led you to be late to your library duty.

“Sister Imperator has assigned me the position of your personal clergy assistant, Papa”, you said with a polite smile.

He raised from his desk with his arms open, his face sporting a warm smile. "Now that's what I call good news, Sister. Come on in, now. Take a seat. I will fetch my calendar."

You did as you'd been told, taking a seat in one of the armchairs on the opposite side of his desk, facing his office chair. There was some shuffling in the next room, and after a moment Terzo reappeared.

"Mi scusi, sorella. I'm back", he huffed, dropping his planner on the desk and then himself on his chair. He opened the thick notebook and scanned the pages. "This week should be relatively tame, if we're lucky. Good opportunity for you to get into the swing of things", he said and gave you a suggestive wink.

While you were feeling the urge to roll your eyes at him, you just smiled. "Wonderful. Sister Imperator gave me a small insight into what my tasks would be, but you should know best, after all."

He nodded. "Yes. Let us get started, then."

The variety of Papa Emeritus III's duties were overall manageable. Preparations for sermons and black mass, clergy meetings, confession. The occasional organization of business trips and external meetings. Sometimes there would be a lot of paperwork, and other times not as much. It was a diverse field, and you enjoyed taking part in many different tasks.

Just as always, Papa Terzo was an absolute flirt. You didn’t mind his remarks and his cheeky attitude, but you didn’t indulge in it either. You mainly kept your focus on getting your work done, or rather, in assisting him getting his work done. Working with him had seemed easy-going and uncomplicated at first, but as it soon turned out, it wouldn’t always be that way. He wasn’t a very patient man. He liked to get things done as effortlessly as possible, and grew frustrated if things didn’t go as smoothly as anticipated. On some days, his older brother Secondo would hand him some scripture work for his sermons, some of it in Latin. Paperwork grinded his gears immensely, and even though he'd try to hide it, it was obvious. You'd offer help and support however you could, assisting in transcription and in sorting the scriptures.

His moodiness could be a bother sometimes, but you tried to pay it no mind. So far, you were about 4 weeks into working for him. On worse days, he’d snap at you for smaller things, which startled you in the beginning. But on other days, he’d be as sweet as honey, like his usual charming self. He was always up for a good laugh. And for these days, you thought, it was worth it. Papa Terzo had trouble focusing, he struggled to take care of these many different things at once sometimes, and you could see that. After all, it was part of your job to help him with his work, and you did so diligently. Organizing and structuring the work process, helping him put his thoughts and ideas into action. At the end of the day, he’d be able to let his work rest with a satisfied smile on his face, thanking you for your efforts.

“Fabulous work, Sister (Y/N). I think we make a great team, no?”, he’d say, sometimes even giving you a small peck on the cheek. Those always made you blush, earning a heartful laugh from him. “Oh, Sister. Shouldn't you be used to me by now?”

After a while, you truly enjoyed his company. Aside from the stress and his mood swings, the two of you got along great. His relentless flirts were countered by witty and sarcastic comebacks from your side, sometimes ending in both of you crying tears of laughter. Poking fun at each other would almost become a daily ritual at some point, bringing some lighthearted moments into the day to counter the stress.

In the break times and on the weekends, you’d sometimes overhear other sisters talking to each other, wondering about whether the position as Papa Terzo’s assistant was currently still taken or not. They’d giggle and playfully fight about who would apply for the position next, not seldomly expressing their desires to have some intimate alone time with him.

It was another hectic day in the ministry. At this point, you’d been working as Papa Emeritus III’s clergy assistant for a little more than 7 weeks.

You were on your way back to the office, after taking part in a 2-hour-meeting in which you documented the discussed topics. Papa Emeritus II had just handed you some more papers to take back to his younger brother. It had already been a busy day, and this wouldn’t make it much better.

"Papa, I’m back”, you panted, as you entered his study, “Papa Secondo just handed me some more paperwork, I’m afraid.”

Your eyes wandered over to his desk, which was an unorganized mess. Then, your gaze traveled up to Papa Terzo, who was leaning with his arms on his desk, blankly staring holes into the tabletop. His brows were furrowed.

Not good, you thought. Not good at all.

You set aside the papers, and carefully approached his desk. Trying to get a glimpse of the paper’s contents, you let your gaze scoot over them. And honestly, it was just an absolute mess. You couldn’t even tell what exactly he was working on, it just seemed all over the place.

A grunt escaped his throat. “More paperwork. Great. Just what I needed.”

His eyes were so cold. Even though they didn’t look at you, they sent shivers down your spine. You felt a lump form in your throat.

“What did you start working on while I was gone? How can I help?”, you asked gently. You hoped that trying to break the silence would help the situation somehow.

He snorted, pulling his lips up in an attempt at a sarcastic smirk. “As you can probably see yourself”, he scoffed, “I’ve been working on everything and nothing. Keeping track of all of this stuff at once is nearly impossible. How the fuck am I supposed to do this?!”

With every sentence he spoke, his voice grew louder and angrier.

You'd only been gone for about two hours, and he had managed to bring this much chaos upon himself.

"Papa, why didn’t you wait for me? We could have started together", you interjected.

His eyes went from side to side. He didn’t answer for a long moment, contemplating his response.

You jumped when he suddenly, in one swift move, cleared the tabletop of all its contents, sending them flying across the room. He slammed his hands back onto the table with a force that made the furniture tremble. Strands of his usually neatly combed back, black hair fell to his face, around his tightly knit together eyebrows.

You didn’t dare say another word. Thinking about what you could do to get him out of his troubled state of mind, you silently awaited his next move. His tense shoulders started to slump, and he dropped back into his office chair, clearly defeated. His papal paint always obstructed his facial expressions to a certain degree, so you’d never been able to fully and clearly read him. It was hard to see what he was thinking. He looked defeated, ashamed, angry, frustrated - all at once. But still, he didn't speak.

You decided to take a leap of faith, and walked around his desk and chair, gently laying your hands on his shoulders.

"Take a moment to relax, please. I will make us some tea", you spoke softly. He closed his eyes, seemingly relishing in your touch for a short while.

"I would like that very much, cara."

A few minutes later, you were back with a kettle full of tea, and a black porcelain tea set with golden ornaments.

Papa Terzo watched as you poured tea for both of you. "What kind of tea?"

"Chamomile", you answered, "It's said to be calming."

He nodded, and carefully grabbed the cup. His hands were a little shaky. You felt bad for him, seeing as he was apparently still very upset.

The two of you sat there and drank tea in silence for a while. With each sip, Papa seemed to calm down a little bit. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he started to ponder.

"You know, Sister", he began, "It's not your fault. This has nothing to do with you."

"I know, Papa. I know. It's alright."

You gave him a gentle smile.

He shook his head. "No, cara, it's not. It is not your fault and still, I get so upset and you have to live through it. It’s not right. But I can't help it."

Putting a hand on his forehead, he sighed. Another moment of silence followed.

"Sister (Y/N)?", he murmured.

"Yes?"

"Could you, perhaps… do that again? What you did before you went to get the tea, I mean."

You raised your brows in surprise, trying to remember what he might have been referring to. You had gone behind him to put your hands on his shoulders, but he couldn’t possibly mean that, could he?

He glanced at you through his fingers but quickly averted eye contact again.

It couldn’t have been anything else. Nothing apart from that made more sense in this exact moment, so you got up from your chair and walked behind him, gently placing your hands on his shoulders.

A satisfied hum left his throat as he leaned back and closed his eyes. You started massaging his shoulders gently, and his head rolled back over the chair's back. His eyes fluttered open after a moment, and he looked directly at you. There was something about his gaze that made your heart flutter, something you couldn’t quite decipher. You reciprocated his gaze, giving him another warm smile. The slight blush on your cheeks must have been clearly visible, but you didn’t mind him seeing.

He mumbled something unintelligible in Italian and hesitantly lifted his arm to reach for your cheek, where he placed his hand. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch. The leather of his glove was warmer than you'd expected, making your smile grow a little wider.

"Sister (Y/N)- I- … thank you", he whispered with a raspy voice.

Shaking your head, you chuckled. “Don’t thank me for that, Papa. I’m your personal assistant, after all.”

“And my personal assistant will do as I tell them?”, he asked.

“Of course. I’m here to support you.”

“Then sit with me, cara. Please”, he said.

You looked around for a chair you could pull up next to him, but he stopped you by taking a hold of your wrist.“No, no. Right here”, he said and gestured towards his lap.

Your face went beet red and you nodded. Carefully, you took a seat on his thighs, trying not to put too much on him.

“You’re too careful, sorella. Too shy”, Papa Terzo chuckled and pulled you closer by grabbing your legs with his arm.

“Sorry, Papa. I didn’t want to be rude”, you admitted, giggling a little.

He responded with a kind smile, his eyes radiating warmth as he looked at you. He merely looked at you like this for a long moment, before he started speaking again.

“That’s one of the things I like about you, cara. You’re so… loyal, polite and diligent. You have stayed with me, all this time. Even today, you didn’t run away, like the other Sisters did.”

“The Sisters ran from you? How come?”, you asked, furrowing your brows.

“Well, to begin with, they only had one thing on their mind for the most part. And that barely had anything to do with work, if you know what I mean”, he said and smirked, “And don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t enjoy the… special attention. But work had to get done one way or another, and you know how I get when things get stressful.”

You nodded knowingly.

“So, that’s why they all quit relatively soon. We had our fun at first, then they didn’t want to put up with the workload or my moods. It’s not too complicated, really”, he said, shrugging.

“I see. But… has that never affected you?”, you asked carefully.

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Well, I think personally, I would feel a little strange about it. The person who I work closest with switching constantly, that is. I wouldn’t be able to focus properly, I think. I mean, you’d have to get used to a different assistant with a different work style all the time-”, you explained, blabbering about. Terzo watched you with curious eyes, listening to your every word, nodding every now and then.

“Cara, I think you have a point there”, he mumbled and scratched his chin. “That would explain why I’ve been starting to feel a little more at ease recently.”

"Oh, really? You do? Even after today's-"

He smirked and slapped his hand over your mouth. "Yes", he hissed through his teeth, "Even after that, I can tell."

You giggled, and he lifted his palm from your face. "Cheeky Sister, you. Luckily I know you don't mean any harm. It's not every day that I talk to someone like this, about this, you know?"

Nodding, you bit your lip and looked away bashfully. "I know, Papa. Sorry."

Terzo laughed and shook his head. "Don't be, Sister. It's all forgiven and forgotten."

By the end of the day, you’d even managed to get a little bit of work done. Papa Emeritus III and you had struggled to make sense of all the papers but still, you’d worked through them with a good laugh. You bid each other good night, and he thanked you again for your hard work.

You spent the rest of the evening in your quarters, thinking about the events of the day, and especially your talk with Papa. It gave you a warm feeling to know that Papa had been willing to open up to you, and it also confirmed to you that you had been handling things the right way.

Papa Terzo on the other hand had watched you leave his office for the night feeling a little empty. The previous warmth of your body still lingered on him, yet it faded away quickly. Talking to you was uncomplicated. It felt natural. He had never been one to have any issues with conversations. Striking up some casual talk with the Sisters of sin had been a daily ritual of his, and with anyone else it never posed any problem either. But there was something about his assistant that made talking feel easy. No charisma trumps, no power play, no control, no structure. Just plain talking. And it felt so relaxing. And now, after this day especially, it felt so wrong to see you go. You should have been coming with him, warming his bedside instead of any other Sister he'd so carefreely taken all those countless times before. Would you even have wanted him? A question he asked himself, so cruel and doubtful, but he couldn’t get around it. He cared, he really did. And he didn’t want things between you to get weird in case you didn’t. He wanted you close to him in whatever way would work. But he wouldn’t be able to suppress his growing desire, either.

Over the next few days, the two of you caught up on a lot of work and figured out a good workflow together. It wasn’t perfect, but it made things go a little smoother, and allowed for short breaks. The tension from before was gone soon before you knew it, and work had started being a lot of fun, rather than an inconvenience. Even to Papa Terzo.

As the weeks went by, your synchronized workflow only improved, parallel to your bond growing tighter. Life felt good.

You made your way through the halls back to Papa Emeritus III’s office, carrying a few folders clutched to your chest. A small group of Sisters crossed your path, and you greeted them with a friendly smile and a respectful nod. A few of them smiled, but it looked twisted and mocking. The others countered with an angry glare. One of them blocked your way by stopping in front of you. You looked at them curiously, waiting for them to speak.

“Sister (Y/N), you’re currently Papa Emeritus’ III assistant, am I right?”, she asked sternly.

You nodded. “Yes, that’s correct. Can I help with anything?”

The Sister in front of you scoffed, and looked at the other sisters for a brief second, who mimicked her expression. “You can ‘help’ by finally moving your ass off the throne. You’ve been hogging that position for how long now? Months?”

Confusion must have been written all over your face. “I- uhm, yes. I think it’s been a few months. But why- why should I?-”

“Ever considered that the others would like to take a turn as well? Now I don’t know what it is that’s taking you so long. Either you just want to keep Papa on a short leash to yourself, or you’re taking awfully long to fuck him.”

“I- I’m not- we haven’t done anything like that”, you stammered in shock. Their boldness caught you completely off guard.

The Sister threw her arms up, rolling her eyes. “They haven’t even fucked”, she snorted at the others, who broke out into pitiful giggles.

“I don’t think the position of clergy assistant has its sole purpose in sex, Sister”, you said. “I believe the job should be treated with respect.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Sure. Papa Terzo is the most diligent Papa, as we all know”, she exclaimed, sarcasm thick in her voice.

“Diligent in terms of bedding the Sisters!”, one of the others threw in. The group started laughing.

You were dumbfounded by their disrespectful behavior and tone and thus at a loss of words.

“Papa Emeritus III certainly has his talents, and it’s mostly restricted to… getting physical with the Sisters”, she smirked, “I’m afraid that apart from this, he is not doing a lot for the clergy.”

“Sister, how can you talk about Papa like this? Are you seriously implying-”, you countered, but quickly got interrupted.

“Yes, Sister (Y/N). I am saying that all he is good for, is pleasing the Dark Lord through the sin of lust. Now would you please do us a favor and move on from that job? Obviously you’re not even intending to use it for all that it’s worth, and we’re tired of waiting”, the Sister hissed, pushing against the folders you were holding from the bottom, making them spill out from under your arms and drop to the floor. “And don’t be such a disgustingly diligent goody-two-shoes, Sister (Y/N). It does not suit a Sister of sin well.”

With that, the Sisters walked off, arrogantly swaying their hips. Absolutely flabbergasted by their audacity, you shook your head. You were only hoping that Papa Terzo hadn’t heard anything, but it was unlikely, since his study was around the corner and down the hall. As you picked up your folders, you saw a figure from the corner of your eye. Your eyes followed them as they left, and the only thing you could see was the bits of a golden and purple ornamented papal robe turning the corner. Oh no.

You finished picking up your folders, and walked back to Papa’s office. Hesitantly, you opened the door and stepped in. “I’m back, Papa. I’m sorry for the delay, some Sisters stopped me in the hallway.”

As you turned around, you were met with an unsettling sight. Papa Terzo was sitting at his desk, his face resting against his folded hands, elbows propped up on the tabletop. His eyes were staring into nothingness, but there was something dark within them. His headwear was sitting on the tabletop next to him, and a few strands of his hair were falling over his face.

You swallowed harshly. “Papa, is everything alright?”

He continued to stare blankly. “Sister, why is it you’re still working as my personal assistant?”

The question made a shiver run down your spine. “I’m- I’m sorry?”

“I heard the Sisters speak. I wanted to come look for you since you’d been gone longer than anticipated. I heard what they said about me. Every single word”, he said, his eyes growing darker with every word. Rage coated his tongue, but he tried to contain himself.

“Papa…”, you started. He cut you off with a single move of his hand.

“If the Sisters of sin collectively think all the same of me, how come you’re still here?”, he asked, slowly rising from his sitting position and walking around the table. “How come you’re still working with me, so diligently, and talking to me so friendly?”

He slowly walked towards you with heavy steps, and you backed away until your back hit a wall.

“And how come”, he hissed, slamming his hand flat onto the wall next to your head, “You haven’t even tried to touch me yet?”

He spoke in a voice that was so heavy with emotion, it tore your heart to pieces. The anger and hurt was clear as day in his eyes, and his expression was bitter. It hurt you to see him like this and all you wanted to do was offer him words of comfort and hold him, but you stood frozen. He leaned in closer.

“That one day you put your hands on my shoulders felt like everything I’ve ever wanted, and having you sit on my lap made me realize that being close to someone has never felt like this before, to me. You showed me so much patience, respect and kindness. And it confused me, Sister (Y/N). Because no Sister ever bothered with that before. And now I know why”, he disclosed, his voice growing shaky with the last sentence. All you could do was watch as he internally crumbled in front of you.

“I need you to tell me, Sister”, he continued, bringing his gloved hand to the side of your throat, gently caressing your jawline with his thumb. “Do you think I am merely good for fucking, as well?”

Tears stung in the corners of your eyes, as you shook your head violently. “No! Why would you even come to think that?”

“I thought those Sister’s words might have made you think. And tainted your vision, perhaps. But maybe, they are just telling the truth and I am here making a fool out of myself”, he murmured, his head hanging low.

You gently put your palms on either side of his face, carefully lifting his head back up to look at you. “Papa, I promise you, what these Sisters think of you does not concern me in the slightest. I have come to know you without any of their insights. And I have come to know you as an interesting and charismatic person, who I genuinely enjoy working with. Whatever they say, I do not care. And I won’t listen any further, because I know it’s not true.”

He let out a deep sigh and leaned into your touch. “I know, cara. I know you wouldn’t lie to me like that.”

You had never seen him look so brittle and defeated before. He looked as if he’d collapse at any given moment. “Sister?”, he murmured.

“Yes?”

“Hold me”, he breathed and fell against your chest. You managed to lead the two of you to a small sofa nearby, and gently sat both of you down. He rested against your torso, his head on your chest. You had wrapped your arms around him protectively, holding him as close as you could. His arms had wrapped around your waist loosely. Tenderly, you stroked his silky, black hair, earning a pleased hum from him.

After remaining in this position for a while, Papa Emeritus III spoke up again lazily, with his eyes still closed. “But Sister, I just realized something. How could you say that the other Sisters lied? You can’t even judge upon all of it.”Your eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you talking about? They were the utmost disrespectful!”

“Yes, but they did say I was good at something”, he murmured, smirking.

You blushed, realizing what he was talking about. “They did say that this was all you are good for, which I highly doubt, Papa. In fact, I know that you are good at other things as well.”

He pouted playfully. “If you say so, Sister. I believe we have some more work to tend to, though. Let’s get through with that first. And maybe, you’d like to spend the evening with me too, for a change?”

You giggled. “Yes, that sounds nice.”

After all work for the day had been finished, you got ready to leave Terzo’s study. “Sister”, he called after you. You turned your head.

“Meet me in my quarters at 8:30pm, yes? No need for the habit. Just wear whatever you wear in your free time on any other given day”, he said with a smile.

You nodded and closed the door behind you.

Later that evening, at 8:30pm sharp, you found yourself standing in front of the large double wing door to Papa Emeritus’ III quarters and knocked. You’d slipped into a comfortable, figure-hugging midi dress made out of a stretchy fabric, sporting a slit on one side to about mid-thigh. As you were standing there, waiting, you wondered whether your choice in wardrobe had been the right one. You had genuinely picked something comfortable you’d wear in your free time, not at all considering the nature of the dress’ cut. It was too late now, anyways.

The door opened, and Papa Terzo quickly pulled you inside. “It’s good to see you, Sister. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“What was that about?”, you asked after he let go of your arm.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to see you standing around near my quarters. Would be a little difficult to explain”, he disclosed with a wink. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I got us a good bottle of wine, sorella”, he sang as he pranced over to a small table, where a bottle of red wine stood alongside two wine glasses. He poured two glasses, and carried them back to you with ecstatic steps, only now actually looking at you as a whole. His steps got slower and he whistled as he looked you up and down. "Oh Sister, you shouldn't have. Dressed up just for your Papa?"

You forced an embarrassed grin. "I actually just dressed up in whatever I'd wear on an evening off. The dress is more comfortable than it looks, actually", you explained, patting some dust off the sides.

The grin on Papa Terzo's face was as mischievous as ever. "I don't mind it, cara mia. Not one bit. In fact, I think you should wear it more often!", he chirped as he handed you one of the wine glasses.

Your lips formed a straight line as you took the glass from his hand. "I would love to, honestly. But there’s the thing about the dress code."

He scoffed. "Ah, that's no issue. You're my personal assistant, which means that actually, I can decide your personal dress code."

"Oh, really?"you asked, raising your brows.

"Yes. I can. Now, a toast?", he said with a wink, raising his glass. "To us being a great team. But mostly, to my wonderful assistant, sent to me as a blessing by The Dark Lord himself."

You let the glasses collide, producing an echoing clinking sound. His toast made you smile bashfully. Taking a big sip of wine, you hoped that it would ease you up a little.

Papa joined you in taking a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving you as he did. When the glass had left his lips again, he casually put his arm around your waist and led you towards an antique sofa, accompanied by two matching armchairs. They sported purple velours. Of course. He invited you to take a seat, which you gladly accepted. Then, he sat down next to you, crossing his legs, extending his arms over the back of the sofa.

“Is purple your favourite colour, Papa?”, you asked, trying to strike up some casual conversation.

“Why yes, it is. I think it’s very alluring and luxurious. Why pick red or blue, if you can have both?”, he said with a chuckle.

You nodded in agreement. “It is a very nice colour.”

“So nice in fact, that I think it would look excellent on you, Sister”, he said in a low, rumbly voice, nearly causing you to choke on your wine.

“I’ve never gone for purple clothes, actually. Not because I dislike them, but because I never found items that I liked. I should go scouting then, no?”, you laughed.

He nodded firmly. “I’d even pick something out for you myself.”

“Don’t spoil me like that, Papa.”

Leaning closer, he smirked. “I would spoil you until you’re rotten, cara.”

You gave him a playful slap on the chest. “Now, now. Don’t get too cocky!”

With a playful pout, he started playing with your hair. “Won’t you just let me spoil you? Let me give you everything I have and more? Your resistance frustrates me, cara mia.”

“If you spoil me, you won’t have a diligent assistant anymore. I would probably turn into a bratty nightmare of a woman”, you countered.

“Fair point.”

You spent a little more time in playful banter, and when the wine in your glasses had run out, Papa Terzo poured you more.

With every sip, you felt a little lighter. You talked about everything you hadn’t previously been able to talk about, asking personal questions as well as telling stories out of your lives. It felt natural and easy-going. The glow in his eyes told you that he was enjoying himself a lot.

At some point, his gaze was drifting off into the crackling fire in the fireplace, and his expression grew worried.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked, slightly concerned by his sudden mood shift.

“I keep thinking, cara. I somehow cannot forget what these Sisters have said about me”, he mumbled, furrowing his brows.

“Papa…”, you said, putting your hand onto his shoulder.

“The sheer disrespect and insult is one thing. But the fact that apparently, they have been handing me around like a wandering trophy in such a calculated manner…it has me at a loss of words. You’d think that I’m the one in charge, since I’m Papa, obviously. But then…”, he groaned, “It is so revolting and disrespectful to the point that it hurts, Sister. It just hurts and I don’t want it to, but I can’t help it.”

You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Papa. I truly wish you didn’t.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. At least I can see more clearly now. Besides, I do believe my days of shagging one sister after another are over.”

His eyes looked at you with such warmth, it made your heart flutter.

“Oh, well, I don’t want to be a bother- I mean, just go ahead and do whoever- I mean, whatever. It’s not like you have to stop having fun, just because you have a clergy assistant now that’s actually keeping the job for longer than a few weeks”, you stammered, smiling awkwardly.

“Silly Sister”, he rumbled, “You don’t understand, do you?”

You looked at him with big eyes.

He grabbed your jaw, and brought you face to face with him. “I no longer desire any of those Sisters, cara. You have shown me what my true focus should be, through kindness and patience and love. There is no-one I desire as much as I desire you, tesoro.”

He sealed his confession by tenderly pressing his lips onto yours. You melted into the kiss, gently resting your hand on his cheek. With a satisfied groan, he deepened the kiss, causing it to get more and more heated by the second. A whimper from you is all it took for him to drag you onto his lap and his hands feverishly stroked up and down your sides, while yours rested upon his shoulders. Papa Terzo pulled away, breathing heavily and looked into your eyes. It seemed as if he was looking for something. His white iris was searing holes into your soul, while his green iris gently sparkled in the low light of the fire.

“What is it?”, you breathed, cracking a smile.

“I just want to know what you’re thinking. Your eyes speak a lot, you know”, he murmured.

“So, what do they tell you?”

“They tell me… you’re excited. Usually your eyes are very honest, cara. But now I struggle to see through them… maybe there’s just too much happening in that pretty little mind of yours right now”, he chuckled. “But that’s alright. Do you think we should wait?”

“Wait? With what?”, you asked bluntly.

A deep chuckle escaped his throat, as his hand traveled to your bottom and gave it a rough squeeze, as he grinded his hips against you. “This, cara. Do you want to find out whether the Sisters have been right about one thing, or not?”

Your face turned a deep shade of red, but you nodded eagerly nonetheless.

“I know this is not very professional. But I do believe that it’s the most professional I’ve ever been, considering my previous assistants…”, he disclosed with a cocky grin. You gently smacked his forehead in response. “Rude!”

“You started it”, you countered, playfully sticking out your tongue.

“Be careful, bella. Or else I will make you put that tongue to good use”, he purred, pulling you a bit closer.

“I’d love to see that.”

After another heated making out session, Papa Terzo had picked you up, with your legs around his hips, and carried you to the next room - which turned out to be his bedroom. He dropped you onto deep purple silk sheets, and straightened up as he towered over you, taking in every bit of the sight. “As much as it pains me to say it, cara, but that dress has to leave. I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

You quickly got up, lifted the dress over your head and tossed it aside, leaving you standing in your underwear. Today’s choice in underwear had been a burgundy lace set, and judging by his dilating pupils, Papa Emeritus III seemed to enjoy it.

“Nice”, was all he managed to say, as he let his hands grace your newly exposed skin.”Very nice, sorella.”

You went for another kiss, as you let your hand slowly travel down his belly all the way to his crotch, where you gently palmed his hardened bulge. This earned a deep groan from him, moreso as you started to open the zipper of his pants and reached underneath the waistband of his underwear. He hissed as your hand came in contact with his bare flesh, relishing in the feeling of you gently stroking him. Yet again he proved that patience was not his strength, when he proceeded to push down his underwear and let his erection spring free, allowing you better access. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying your touch. You used the opportunity to get onto your knees without him noticing, and proceeded to take him into your mouth fully all the way to the hilt, without a warning. You’d describe the noise he made as close to inhuman. His head whipped back and his eyes watched you curiously, moaning with every move of your tongue. “Molto bene, Sister”, he growled, carefully moving his hips in sync with your head. After a few more thrusts he grunted and pulled away from you, pulling you up by your neck and capturing you in another passionate kiss. He reached around and opened the clasp of your bra, letting it fall onto the ground. His mouth quickly found your chest, biting and sucking on your heated skin until he gently teased your nipple with his tongue, making you whimper. The heat between your legs had started to become unbearable and you longed for friction, which luckily, his hand started to give you. He rubbed you through your underwear, causing you to moan and whimper even more. You feared that your legs were close to giving in, and you held onto the bed post for support. Terzo’s lips formed a smile against your skin, before he raised his head to look at you, never ceasing to draw small circles between your legs. “Lay down for me, Sister. Get comfortable.”

You did as you’d been told, and crawled onto the purple silk sheets. Papa casually unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, and followed you. He kneeled between your legs and grabbed them to pull you closer abruptly, making you gasp as his evident desire rubbed against your clothed core. He grinded his hips into you lazily, growling loudly as he watched your desperate face heat up in pleasure. With a swift move, he grabbed your panties and pulled them off, leaving you completely bare beneath him. He leaned down, propping himself up on his arm by placing his hand next to your head on the mattress, and started tenderly stroking your bare flesh with his fingers. He dipped into your core for a moment and hummed, satisfied to feel how ready you were for him. “Perfect, cara. Perfect.”

Lowering down, he settled between your legs, lining up with your entrance. He propped himself up on his arms and as he slowly pushed into you, he kept his gaze locked to your face. You moaned, feeling him stretch you out bit by bit and when he finally bottomed out, your whole body was shaking. Terzo leaned down and peppered your face with kisses, showering you in words of praise and adoration. He carefully began to roll his hips against you, starting off with very tender thrusts. They were so full of raw passion that you feared they might drive you mad, if he kept going like this.

Papa’s eyes were glued to your face, still. He relished in seeing you mewl and moan beneath him, in knowing that it was him giving you this much pleasure, and only him. Nothing he’d ever had with any other Sister even came remotely close to what he was having right at this moment. He lifted one of your legs up and hoisted it over his hip, allowing him to reach further into you. Simultaneously, his thrusts picked up speed. He groaned as he pounded you deeper into the purple silk sheets. He wanted more, he wanted you whole, he would have tried to consume you as a whole if he could. Your scent filled his nose and your moans filled his ears, and it drove him close to the edge sooner than he wanted.

He went back to a few slow thrusts and stopped, leaning down to kiss you. “You’re doing amazing so far, Sister. Let’s switch things up a little bit, no?”

Before you could react, he pulled out and laid down next to you on his side, pulling you close to him so that you were laying on your side as well, putting the two of you into a spooning position. He lifted your leg gently, and entered you again, this time from behind. You moaned as he stretched you yet again, only this time your body didn’t take as much time to adjust. His arm reached around from underneath you and took a hold of your throat, while his other hand traveled down between your legs as he resumed thrusting. Soon, he had you as a moaning mess in front of him, as he pounded into you at a relentless speed, and his fingers traced tight circles around your bundle of nerves. You felt your release approach at a rapid speed, barely giving you time to warn him.

“Papa, I think I’m close”, you huffed.

“Come for me, sorella. Come for your Papa”, he growled.

His words and his voice sent you over the edge. You nearly screamed from the intensity of your orgasm, small waves of pleasure pulsing through your body until the ecstatic feeling slowly began to subside.

Papa Emeritus III had been chasing his own release in the meantime, and feeling you clutch around him and squeeze him within the ruptures of your orgasm made him come undone as well. He buried his face in your hair as he half-groaned, half-yelled, and he drove himself to the hilt inside of you as he came. You could feel him throb inside you, causing you to whimper. Riding it off with a few last, lazy thrusts, he sighed deeply and mumbled some indistinct Italian under his breath.

Feeling him place a soft kiss on the side of your neck, you smiled.

“Ti amo, sorella”, he hummed into your ear. “And I will tell you so often that you will grow sick of it.”

“I feel the same, Papa”, you admitted in a soft tone. You could feel him smile against your skin, as his arms wrapped around you to embrace you tightly. His body wrapped around you possessively, and he kept pressing kisses onto your hair, forehead, cheeks and eyelids. “Ti amo, Sister. I love you. I love you so much, I could burst into a thousand pieces”, he mumbled in between his kisses, making you giggle. You spent a long moment laying together like this, in absolute bliss and without a care in the world.

“Papa, I think I should head back to my own room soon. The curfew is approaching, and you said nobody should see me here-”, you said, slowly rising up into a sitting position, looking for a clock.

“Don’t you dare, Sister”, he growled and pulled you back down, “Stay with me. I can bring to my quarters whoever I want. So please, cara. Stay the night.”

You smiled and snuggled up against him, deeply inhaling his scent.

“Please don’t quit your assistant job now, though. I heard it’s a custom amongst the sisters”, Papa Terzo said sleepily.

The last thing that sounded through the room was the sound of a slap, and a protesting groan from Papa. You giggled softly, and soon sleep took you over as well.

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