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#Bonding happens along the way and they become a pack
rosieshipper · 1 year
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Don’t think about a tlou wolfwalker au
Don’t think about a tlou wolfwalker au
Don’t think about a tlou wolfwalker au
Don’t think about a tlou wolfwalker au
DON’T THINK ABOUT-
*google doc opens up*
Oh no
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so, i've fallen down the "humans are weird" rabbit hole, and i couldn't help but notice most of it is about how humans are just really durable, adorable, friendly, how we'd pack bond with anything, about how we have such a hive-mind and empathy and determination to survive when things get rough, how we could survive things most other aliens would die from, how we could eat stuff that would poison other aliens, how we inject ink into our skin and pierce it with pieces of metal and drink toxic substances for the sake of entertainment..
it's always human defences and endurance
but i never see people talking about human **aggression**
like, imagine a spaceship happens to have several humans on it even if most residents are alien species, and two of the humans get in a fight.
and i'm not just talking physical, i'm sayin' all kinds of fights.
imagine if two humans got in a serious screaming match and genuinely hurt a few of the alien species sensitive to loud sounds as they watch, flabbergasted at how the two are literally yelling in each-other's faces without breaking a sweat or getting tired from it, while one of the sound-sensitive aliens literally passed out because it was SO loud
or imagine them simply being in shock after interacting with humans for a long time and having this image in their head of humans being so friendly and able to get along with anything and anyone, including stabby, or any predatory, aggressive species we just so happen to find cute. that image getting completely shattered seeing two of the humans they're friends with showing clear anger and aggression in a display they could only describe as "terrifying" in the most visceral sense of the word
or two humans getting in an actual physical fight, and here's where the *several* humans on ship part comes into play,
so the two are duking it out in a violent display of pure hatred while other humans, amused and thoroughly entertained by the violence that would already have put any of the less durable aliens out of commission gather around the fighting pair and start ominously chanting "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT"
prior, the aliens hadn't dared intervene or get any closer because either way they recognized it as a danger
meanwhile some humans JOIN IN for absolutely no reason and it becomes a full on riot
and the aliens just stare like ?????
confused at why they'd find it so endearing, at why they'd literally join for no reason at all, horrified by even just a punch to the gut because to some of the more vulnerable aliens that's their equivalent of literally getting an organ ripped out of them and somehow STILL fighting and then ripping out an organ out of the opponent themselves
and most of all, if humans are capable of befriending aggressive, large predatory beings and getting along with practically everything,
what from the fresh pits of hell triggered two *humans* to fight *each other* of all creatures?
(that is, assuming aliens don't have much knowledge of our history, wars, politics, etc of course.)
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brucewaynehater101 · 11 days
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AU idea: Tim, tired of all the misunderstandings in the batfam, resorts to magic.
The misunderstandings:
Jason thinking he's been replaced
Damian feeling that he has to earn his place in the family
So many of the batkids feeling unsure of their place in the family
Dick never reaching out about his own issues until it blows up on him
Bruce putting his foot in his mouth and rarely verbally affirming his love
Cass's overwhelming guilt and physical distance from the family
Alfred's passiveness/professionalism/perceived neutrality
The timeline is after Damian joins, but before Duke does. We'll say the BruceQuest really made Tim face how shitty their communication is and the need to fix it.
So, Tim contacts Constantine about setting up pack/coven bonds for the family (Bruce, Jason, Dick, Damian, Alfred, and Tim). This links their emotions together and allows them to monitor each other's physical states.
At the beginning, it's sudden and overwhelming. Only Tim, who was prepared, is able to immediately shield his bond.
If he had a choice, he wouldn't have even included himself in the bond (he's a hypocrite). He needed to be in the bond for it to work. In fact, since he was the one to start it, he's the coven/pack leader. He can add people and remove them at will.
The bond causes many many many fights and arguments. It's basically a huge blowup as the family learns to adjust to their new status and try to figure out what happened. Tim, obviously, does not tell them.
The family can tell that Tim is in the bond, but his emotions are constantly shielded. This does cause misunderstandings.
Eventually, the bonds become used as Tim intended: a way to express and communicate. It even allows them to soothe and comfort each other.
It's mostly a success... Except for Tim, the hypocrite, distancing himself. While he watches everyone else bond and get along, he allows the misconception that he's not as affected or doesn't feel as much as the others.
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ozzgin · 9 months
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Yandere! Yokai Harem Headcanons
Meet your (6) monster boyfriends!
Since the story will take a while to unfold, I decided to speed things up and properly introduce you to the characters. A little time skip to Reader becoming an onmyōji herself and renewing the bonds with the yokai men, this time at their request. They cannot bear the thought of separating from their darling and since she has reneged her life as a regular human being, someone has to keep her company. And so the days are spent exorcising evil spirits both in modern and feudal Japan, with a pack of demons following close behind.
[Main story] [Character Guide]
Content: female reader, monster smut, NSFW, obsessive behavior, reader is a monster hoe again but feigns mild reluctance
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Kiritsubo
Kiritsubo is your very first yokai encounter and he almost immediately falls for you. He's always been at the receiving end of his master's wrath for not being able to use his powers, so much that even after Nakamaro’s ‘death’ he couldn’t sleep without being plagued by horrid nightmares. His back is covered in thick scars from the frequent punishments. You first begun to suspect his background when you jumped in to protect him from an incoming blow and he froze in terror, unable to look up and awaiting the anticipated discipline.
Needles to say that when he learns you're not like the previous onmyōji he becomes extremely clingy and needy. He can only rest if you're next to him and will often hug you for reassurance. You've shared a bed before there was any hint of romance, simply because he found your presence so soothing. That's not to say he relies on you for everything. In fact, he unlocks his nearly unmatched abilities purely out of his desire to protect you. He’s found his purpose in serving you, someone who showed him kindness when he needed it most.
As you go out into the world, he begins to question his exact feelings for you. An example of his intense musings: he's asked you, perplexed, whether he can kiss you like the people he's seen on the street. He's spent his entire life being trained by Abe no Nakamaro, so he struggles to understand how relationships work. He will be utterly oblivious to other people flirting with him (it happens every now and then, he is a handsome demon after all), but simultaneously worry that everyone is out to have you. He’s already very salty about the other yokai joining your side and will frequently remind them he was the first to accept you.
When you complete your transition as an onmyōji, the priestess warns you that you may no longer partake in any kind of bonding with your fellow humans. Kiritsubo, seated next to you, responds almost instantly with eyes sparkling in excitement: "Well, that doesn’t extend to yokai, does it? I can still make you my wife.”
Kiritsubo is very clumsy when being intimate with you for the first time, but it doesn’t take long for him to become rather addicted to the feeling. You often have to scold him to behave and in return he’ll be pouting and fidgeting until you finally give in to his pleading gaze. He’s very vocal and touchy and will leave you covered in scratches from all the pulling. Towards the end he’s a drooling mess, mumbling about how much he loves you and begging you to never, ever leave him.
Murasaki
Murasaki is very cold and sarcastic on the surface, but you soon realize he is the most caring and responsible of the group, always looking out for everyone and trying to keep them out of trouble. In fewer words, he's almost like a tsundere mother hen (he won't hesitate to put you in a headlock if you mention it, though). He goes along with your wishes and will politely listen to anything you tell him, but to others he remains stoic and even rude. You’re sometimes reminded of the preferential treatment when witnessing his aggressive way of dealing with his suitors, shooing them away with the utmost disgusted scowl.
“Huh? Why can’t I be nicer to others? Bold of you to assume my tolerance is not, in fact, a limited resource spent entirely on dealing with you.”
He's been your guardian from the day you met him. He taught you how to use a sword and how to properly cast spells and seems to have a solution for all your troubles. When you introduced the yokai to the modern world you assumed he'd struggle to adapt, but he was extremely quick to learn and is, to this day, accumulating knowledge at a dizzying pace. One wouldn't be able to tell him apart from a regular city dweller. Murasaki is the concrete definition of a jack of all trades, excelling in whatever he sets his mind on.
Given his status and skills, the other yokai have always been rather jealous of him, including Kiritsubo. Ironically enough, by the time Murasaki accepted his infatuation towards you, you'd already gotten close to Kiritsubo. Which resulted in a lot of unexplained jealous bouts from a yokai too prideful to admit he loves you just as much. (You eventually get him to confess and reach the agreement to distribute the wealth among workers.)
He will occasionally be in a good enough mood to share with Kiritsubo, but it frequently results in a bizarre competition between them as you awkwardly squirm underneath, overstimulated. More often he prefers to pull you aside after you've done the deed with another yokai and aggressively fuck you as a way to assert his dominance. "Oh, was he that good? Then why are you moaning much louder now?" He'll demand with a firm grasp around your throat. Sadly his extreme competitiveness extends to this area as well.
Suma
Among the yokai, Suma is the most easygoing one despite his intimidating appearance. Most evenings he’ll have a drink in hand, eager to chitchat and ramble by the campfire, with his relaxed laughter resounding across the place. He is very loud and blunt and will often need to be reminded of the colossal power imbalance between him and regular humans and demons. Although after accidentally dislocating your shoulder (he was terribly amused by your joke and gave you a friendly pat), he’s gotten much better at adjusting the amount of force he uses, especially with you.
You’ve only witnessed him serious on two occasions: first one is a recurring event, when he’s training alone. When you’re together, he’s always in a merry mood, letting you try out moves and spells on him and frequently praising you even after failures. His whole demeanor changes when he’s by himself, swinging the spear with a calculated, focused gaze that remains unperturbed until the end of his session. The second case is when you get hurt. Now, he does encourage you to fight, and your confidence in battle is what caused him to fall head over heels in love with you. He will immediately put a stop to it, however, if the opponent ends up harming you. Seeing your lips curl in pain is enough to set him off and send him into a full blown rage.
Suma is destructive in all the ways you can think of. Given his massive size, as much as he’d love to, having his way with you is not something that can happen spontaneously. Borrowing his powers can of course help your frail body to not immediately tear apart, but depending on how much self control he has (or lack of), you might end up needing urgent healing from Sakaki. Suma will be extremely apologetic for nearly fucking you to death, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. A more common approach is riding his hand, as one or two fingers are enough to make you dizzy. He’ll be satisfied just hearing your needy whimpers. He also adores watching you whenever you give him handjobs as your little, delicate hands struggle to hold onto him. You’re insignificant compared to him and yet you persevere, feisty and horny. His precious, tiny warrior.
Yuugiri
Yuugiri is by nature a manipulative, masterful liar, so it comes as no surprise that you had a hard time trusting him in the beginning. His habit of teasing you certainly didn’t help, as you could never tell whether he’s serious about something or not. Perhaps the greatest irony is that even when he tries to be honest, it comes out crooked. Such is the fate of a deceiving demon, although most people are only familiar with fox spirits. On his end, he loves that you’re so transparent and obvious, even occasionally naive. And so it took a lot of awkward pleading to convince you to renew a binding contract with him, given everyone was suspecting him of ulterior motives.
For Yuugiri, being part of such contract is the most vulnerable offering he could've given you as proof of his love. As your souls become connected, you can perceive his feelings in ways otherwise impossible to achieve. He willingly allowed you to be able to read his heart, and thankfully it worked. It was his last, desperate resort to get you to understand his affections. Do you finally see the earnest adoration he harbors for you?
He is the best choice if you're looking for a best friend to gossip with. He enjoys listening to your stories and pays great attention to every detail. He's also frighteningly vengeful, especially when it involves you. So if you ever complain about someone to him, know that he will remember it forever and will make sure to continuously get back at the offender in the worst possible ways and will only stop when you tell him to.
Now listen, I’m about to be quite crass but it is what it is: as a serpent demon he has a long, forked tongue and let’s just say everyone in the household can tell if he’s eating you out because it will be loud. It will be followed by the walk of shame, when you eventually have to come out of the room red-faced and sore-legged, with Yuugiri donning a devilish grin for the rest of the day. You always swear to keep it in next time, but within moments you’re tightly gripping onto his horns, mumbling his name in a feverish, drunken haze. Naturally, he can read you like an open book and this truth stands for more intimate matters as well. Leave it to Yuugiri to know what his darling likes best.
Sekiya
Sekiya has been fascinated with you from the moment you stepped into the ancient Tomb. To see the anxious, quiet Kiritsubo happily wag his tail after you and the stern, irritable Murasaki readily at your service…It was a sight most unfamiliar to him and he wondered how a mere human like you managed to whip them into this kind of submission. He refused to believe you’d be stronger than Abe no Nakamaro himself, yet after the battle - from which you emerged victorious - it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn’t fear or obedience coming from the two yokai companions. Just honest, unadulterated love. He felt his chest tighten with envy, all the resentment of being sealed in with an evil, hateful sorcerer finally erupting its way to the surface.
So when you offered him and Sakaki to join you (“What else is left to do among these ruins?”), he couldn’t agree fast enough. To think he, too, could be spoiled with the affections of someone like you. On the other hand, Sekiya is an insecure, nervous wreck of an overthinker and he felt like he couldn’t offer anything worthy in return. He’s a demon that casts barriers. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t have Murasaki’s genius, or Kiritsubo’s raw power, or Suma’s brute strength…What use could you possibly find in him? Hence the constant need for reassurance. He will need you to pull him out of his melancholy every now and then, just a small nudge from the savior he so worships.
It’s an extremely rare occurrence, but Sekiya can get cheeky if his ego is stroked properly. So, for example, he’ll take advantage of the fact you’re both alone in the modern world and show you the handy usage of his barriers: a crowded intersection overflowing with people, and yet no one can see him greedily thrusting into you right in the middle of everything. It’s the high of sprawling you out in public without actually being seen. It’s also one of the reasons you no longer take him furniture shopping. Last time you asked him to help you pick a new table from Ikea and were confused by his requirement of it being “high enough”. Before you could ask for further explanations, the immediate vicinity started twirling into a blur and his heavy arm bent you over the surface. “Let me demonstrate”, he purred in your ear. Sure, no one saw you dripping with his cum, nonetheless scanning the items with your clenched legs and deep crimson face was humiliating enough.
Sakaki
Despite his gift to heal and revive, Sakaki is a terribly miserable demon, often plagued by gloom and death. He is especially receptive to negative emotions, and given your souls are connected, he is the first to detect any change in your mood. (You had to learn to block out the persistent throb of jealousy that tugs at your heart whenever the yokai is particularly insecure.) He takes great pride in the fact that he can understand your sadness better than anyone. The second you feel down, he’ll be right behind you: “Worry not, we shall suffer together. Such is the fate of lovers.”
The first time he joined you back into the modern world, you’ve perhaps mistakenly introduced him to classic literature you assumed he’d like. He indeed became infatuated with authors like Poe, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Shelley, Hoffmann. For the first time in his long life, Sakaki felt understood, and you’re glad to have played a role in his new interest. Yet you can’t help the shivers running down your spine whenever you become the target of his overflowing, renewed inspiration. Grim, ghastly paintings, deplorably obsessive poems…You’ve unleashed an authentic Romantic poet whose only muse is you.
He’s a master of eerie awkwardness, more so now that he has access to modern entertainment. You were excited when he asked you out on a picnic date, only to discover you’ve been taken to a foggy graveyard. He enthusiastically explained his choice: you can scout burial plots in case one of you dies (he’ll die with you, no worries), it is a stunning reminder that his love for you is eternal, and you might even find potential names if you ever want children. Another time, when you rented a boat during a sunny day at the lake, he cheerfully wondered how you’d look if you were to drown (still as beautiful as ever, he’s certain). Ah, but he does not dwell on dark things only. He recently took you to see the famous Cirque du Soleil and he was equally mesmerized by all the light and colors. It was Corteo: the story of a funeral cortège for a clown.
Sakaki does not like sharing and prefers to hang out with you alone, without the other demons. In fact, he’ll spend the day holed up in his room, writing or painting, or go out on lone walks if he knows you’re messing around with someone. He’d rather not hear anything that would cause him turmoil. The only exception is Sekiya, as they spent decades in isolation together within the sealed Tomb, and they both share a similar lack of confidence. In this case he won’t mind laying you on him and offering the above position to his friend, or casually joining your fun if he sees you together with Sekiya.
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sunkendreams · 10 months
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kickstart my heart.
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REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid
“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.
𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!
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A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.
You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.
Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.
The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.
Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.
A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.
“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”
Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.
With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.
Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.
“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”
“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.
“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.
A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.
“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.
To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.
His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.
“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.
“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.
Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.
You belonged to him.
With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.
“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.
“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”
Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.
Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.
“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.
“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.
“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.
Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.
By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.
Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.
“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.
“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.
“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.
Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.
Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.
Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.
“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.
You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.
He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.
As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.
Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.
“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.
With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.
When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.
“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”
Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.
That’s what this was about?
“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.
For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.
Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.
You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.
Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.
“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.
“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.
A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.
“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.
“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.
This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”
“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.
Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.
That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.
“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.
“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.
Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.
A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.
Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.
“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”
“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.
“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.
With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.
He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.
Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.
You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.
“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”
It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.
He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.
Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.
There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.
His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.
Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.
“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.
You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.
Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.
The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.
As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.
“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.
With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.
Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.
Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.
He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.
“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”
“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.
He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.
“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.
“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.
Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.
You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.
With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”
Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.
“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.
A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.
There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.
He moaned.
Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.
“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.
“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”
Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.
Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.
With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”
The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.
Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.
“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.
Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.
An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.
“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.
You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.
“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.
“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.
It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”
Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.
Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.
He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.
You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.
It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.
“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.
“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.
“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.
You would have to thank Marko later.
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jsprnt · 3 months
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Americano PT. 16 | Jude Bellingham x Reader
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What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?
A/N: hello loves!! I can’t believe we’ve already come to the end of this series😭 thank you guys so so much for all the love you’ve sent my work and efforts!! Love y’all so much, enjoy reading- and stay tuned for my future fics 🤍🩷
W/C: 4.025
part fifteen
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I sigh for the millionth time today, leaning back against the backrest of my chair. I rub my wrists, massaging my fingers and knuckles, groaning in relief when I hear some of them pop.
There were only a handful of matches left in the league, along with the Champions League final. The entire PR and marketing department had been working overtime for a couple days now, wanting to end the season on a high note.
I was so tired and stressed out, internally debating whether to call in sick tomorrow, but there was no way the team could finish all of this without my help.
Since my role in the department has gotten much more important this season, I needed to attend more meetings and calls with a lot of different people.
Never in my life, had I exercised my social skills this much, and it was only a matter of time before my social battery ran so low that I couldn't take interacting with people anymore, without looking like a total jerk.
Though, the generous paycheck that dropped into my back account every month, motivated me to work harder, well, sometimes..
I shift from my position, grabbing a single pen from its holder. Looking back up to my laptop to write down some refreshing and creative questions for the upcoming, very important and widely viewed interviews.
Winning both the national league and the Champions League in the exact same season would be absolutely insane to witness.
I had experienced the feeling in my first season working at the club. After almost three years of getting to know the team and the players who had come and gone, this year would feel even more special.
I had grown closer to the club, not just as an employee but as a supporter as well. I had multiple personal and dear connections with the club.
My father had just renewed his contract with the club. A topic that everyone working for respective companies joked about was the possibility of the agreement not being renewed.
After all these years, both companies had become synonymous with each other.
I had also gotten closer to my colleagues, much closer than I would've ever imagined. Starting this job as an eighteen-year-old, I was incredibly intimidated by the sheer size of the operations behind the scenes.
Of course, juggling both working here and studying for my law degree was hard at first. Work in the morning had switched to the evening when attending the matches.
Study breaks consisting of trying to figure out what interview questions were rubbish and needed to be scrapped, and packing my little suitcase for another trip, only to overpack again.
Thankfully, I had gotten all of my results back from this school year, and I was absolutely over the moon knowing I'd be going for my next year of my degree after summer break.
All my hard work had finally paid off when I saw my grades, and I had celebrated it that night- with working…
The biggest change in my life?
That was the fact that I had actually found love.
Going from hating each other to loving each other was a weird feeling. Even so, Jude and I had been together for almost six months now, and honestly speaking; I had never felt so loved by anyone in the entire world before.
We supported each other wholeheartedly, and it was definitely easier to do than other couples.
Mostly, because we worked together.
Living together for the first few weeks of our relationship, definitely sped up the process of actually getting to know each other. It bonded us faster than I would’ve ever expected.
Looking back, it's difficult to even imagine a world where Jude never moved into my place..
Jude had moved out of my house in the middle of March. He had changed houses following everything that had happened the last few months.
The new house is quite far away from the old, temporary house he lived in, that got broken into. The home was spacious and modern, just like I'd expected before visiting for the first time.
My father and his partners at his firm, had finally built up a proper case to take the intruder to court. I didn't know the specifics because, for some reason I wasn’t allowed to, by both my own father and Jude.
I already knew that the man who had caused so much chaos wasn't getting off the hook easily, and that was enough for me. Knowing any more details about the situation, would probably cause me more stress and anxiety, so I had just learnt to let it go.
I couldn't even lie, lately I had spent more time at Jude’s place than my own. There was something so comforting about it, maybe it was how inviting and cozy it felt.
His friends from England and Germany would always be over, for the simplest of reasons.
Playing games, both board and video ones, watching new movies in the unnecessary, huge cinema room. It created a very fun and friendly atmosphere and made me feel more comfortable than ever.
Jude’s parent’s presence, especially his mother’s- was very much appreciated. I loved chatting to her, from the most mundane things, to the things that I was worried about.
Just like the other women in my life, she gave me guidance and encouragement to keep on going and be even better at anything I wanted to accomplish.
Obviously, there was no way we could keep on hiding our relationship from certain teammates Jude was very close with. We'd decided to be open with them, because keeping a 'secret' from them wouldn't exactly give us peace of mind in the long run.
Scratching what I've written down so far, I drop my pen onto the desk. Glancing up at the clock to check the time, and gasping softly when I remember I have a meeting that starts in a minute.
I quickly grab the necessary paperwork, and dash out of the office. Into the meeting room, already full of my coworkers, sat waiting only for me..
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"Okay, I'm really confused. Do I have something on my face? Like sauce from lunch or something?" The puzzled y/n asks, turning around in her office chair, only to glance at the busy Lina.
"Uh.." The older woman begins, looking up from her monitor and shaking her head.
"Nope, no sauce. Why?" Lina takes her hand off the computer mouse, sighing before leaning back.
"Everyone has been looking at me, like since- this morning.." y/n rolls her chair forward, holding out her foot, to stop herself from violently slamming into Lina's desk.
"You think? I thought it was because your dress looked cute.."
Lina smirks at her own words, her hand reaching over to grab her purple water bottle, swiftly taking the top off and chugging a couple gulps.
y/n scoffs, glancing down at the dress she's wearing. Yes, of course the dress is cute, that's why she wore it today. But the stares she got were definitely not in appreciation of the cream-colored dress.
"Are you serious? I don't think-"
She's cut off by a loud knock. Both women break eye contact, looking up at the glass doors where someone is standing in front of.
"Jude?" y/n perks up, standing up from her chair and making a beeline towards him. Ignoring the unnecessarily loud and teasing whistle leaving Lina's mouth.
Stepping outside, she furrows her brows, looking around for anyone who could eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Follow me.." Jude can only say, immediately starting to walk down the stairs without sparing another second.
"What are you-" She trails off, sighing in defeat, before following him down, into one of the empty meditation rooms.
She looks at Jude as he locks the door behind them, his hand immediately reaching to wrap around her waist. He pulls her closer than ever, planting a kiss on her lips.
"Something wrong?" She asks, picking up on his stressed out demeanor. Pulling back, she scans his face once again.
"I have to show you something, but don't freak out, yeah? I called your dad already, and he said he'll see what he can do.."
This only sends her into a panic, his warning going over her head as she watches him pull his phone out of his pocket. Arms flexing underneath his training jacket as he moves.
She looks at him with a confused frown on her face, her eyes almost popping out of her head when Jude shows what was so important.
Grabbing the phone out of his hand without thinking, she brings the device closer to her face. A small noise of annoyance leaving her mouth.
It's all photos of the couple, outside during various times they had been on dates for the past- six months.
"This one's from Valencia, and this one's from that night in Mallorca?!" y/n exclaims, hands shaking as she tries to scroll through the other photos. All off guard pictures of them, taken while they were out together, after matches, and even on dates in Madrid.
Noticing how distressed the photos make his girlfriend, Jude grabs his phone out of her hand. Setting it down on the table next to him, he grabs onto her shoulders, making her look up at him.
"It's okay, we prepared for this, remember? I won't let my team put out a statement, apart from legal action. Your dad's handling it with my team, okay?" He brings her frazzled form into a reassuring hug, planting kisses on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.
Of course, just like her boyfriend explains- they knew their relationship couldn't be kept secret for much longer. Jude, being the high profile football player he is, couldn't exactly keep people from prying into his private life.
She knew that the media had caught a whiff of her, even back when they despised each other. The night at Wembley Stadium months ago, had caused a little commotion back then.
The gossip pages and newspapers loved a story containing love, a successful and beloved young man, and not to forget- her having actual connections to the club in both work, and her father's partnership with the club.
To the couple, when they entered the training center or the stadium, they would work at that particular day- it was about work and work only.
When they clocked in, they prioritized working. It would've obviously been very difficult for them to keep their relationship on the low- if they glanced at each other every damn second, while in the same room.
During working hours, they'd greet each other like their other colleagues, acting like they didn't make out the night before in his room.
Unavoidably, the players who knew about them dating, would try their best to sneak little jokes and teases in. The couple would successfully brush off the comments.
Practicing all these months made the perfect facade, but sometimes the jokes were too good not to chuckle, at least very discreetly.
"Okay, I trust you.." She mutters, pressing her face into her chest, a soft hum leaving her mouth. Thoughts and worries swirling through her mind.
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"Baby! I'm ready!" I shout, almost falling flat on my face while pulling on my new heels.
These red bottoms were absolute hell to wear, especially since I had just gotten them as a gift, from Jude.
It would take some time before I could break them in, but with how stunning they looked paired with this dress, it was worth the pain, at least tonight.
To celebrate winning the league, Jude and I were finally going on a date. It had been a while since we had been on a proper date night, mostly due to how busy we both have been lately.
Jude with training and I with preparing everything, from interviews to social media posts, and even some press releases that needed to be out before the Champions League final that was in a couple days.
"I'm here.." I walk out of his bedroom, chuckling at the sheer amount of my clothes stuffed in his closet.
We had been staying over at each other's place on and off, but looking at both our closets, you'd think we'd been living together again.
Considering how important the past few weeks had been, Jude had been training a lot. I was especially worried about him and his health, mainly thinking of his shoulder injury.
His doctor and the team's physiotherapist had reassured me personally, but still, I could help but wince every time he touched his shoulder and grunted. Or seeing the multiple, pain-stopping injections, he had to take to play a full ninety minutes.
"You look handsome.." I mutter when reaching the front door, pressing a kiss onto his plump lips, my hands reaching to fix the collar of his button down. My lipgloss leaving a sheen of glitter on his lips, it making me chuckle as he gave me a dumbfounded look.
We’re fairly young, and early in our relationship, we realized that fancy dates weren't really our thing. But tonight was one of the few occasions we'd go all out, and dress up very nicely.
"You look absolutely stunning, love.." He smiles, his hand circling around my waist and down my back, fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.
"Thank you, baby.." I hum, giving him a small wink. A loud chuckle leaves my lips as he attempts to wink back, though, just like every time, it looks like he's got something in his eyes, instead of being cheeky.
"What's so funny, hm?" Jude questions, hands trailing down to grip at my bum, squeezing slightly.
"Mhm, nothing.." I say, reaching up to fix his hair a little. "Should we leave? It's getting late.."
He agrees instantly, and I wrap my arm around his as we walk out of his house. The sun hadn't set yet, mostly because summer was coming soon, and I couldn't wait to enjoy the weather this year, yet again.
"Wait- I didn't grab my keys.." I gasp, eyes going wide as I watch him pull the door shut.
"Oh, you're definitely not driving missy, especially not in those heels.." Jude says, giving me a cheeky smile, and I can immediately sense that he is hiding something.
"You got your license?!" I beam, eyes glistening in happiness. Though, my excitement is cut short when he shakes his head, an embarrassed look on his face.
"No, I did not get my license.."
"Oh.." I say, the corners of my mouth twitching as I hold back a menacing laugh.
"So, you'll be my passenger prince forever?" I bring my hand up to grab onto his bicep, squeezing the muscles as my body leans against his.
"Will you ever stop saying that?" I watch his lips move, eyes glimmering when his lips pull into a slight pout.
"When you get your license, sir. I'll stop calling you my passenger prince..."
"I'm sure you would like a break from it then.." Jude says, his expression changing to a smug one within a split-second, and I follow his lead without thinking.
My uncomfortable heels click against the concrete as Jude leads me outside the gates of the house, a sleek black Rolls Royce parked right in front of the driveway.
"You got a driver for tonight?" I ask, eyes fixated on the, admittedly sexy car.
"Going all out for my lovey tonight. I've got to spoil my girl, always.."
I grin at his sweet words, warmth reaching my face, and I suddenly feel shyness creeping up on me. I shift my gaze for a second, avoiding eye contact with him and staring at the concrete.
"Aw, is my pretty girl shy now? You weren't like this a moment ago, huh?" A soft noise of protest leaves my mouth at the loving words. My breath hitching as he presses a kiss on my neck, right against my jugular.
"Come on, love. We'll be very late to our reservation if I keep you here longer.." Jude gives me a charming smile, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me towards the car, making me forget whatever my thoughts were before he'd made my heart flutter.
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"I'm sweating literal buckets. I can't even breathe properly right now.." My eyes immediately shift to Luis, my right eye twitching, just like it has been on and off this entire day. The stress and anxiety of this all had been building up in us both, causing actual physical symptoms to show.
"Ask me about it, I went peeing two times already, and we're just seventy minutes into this match.." I say, wiping my sweaty hands down my black jeans. The laptop and phone on my lap shaking, as I bounce my knee up and down in anticipation.
My heart also leaped in my throat every time Jude got fouled. Checking the stats confirmed my suspicion, he currently is the most fouled player on the pitch.
I obviously knew it was a part of the game, but considering his injury- I couldn't help but be worried.
"Fuck, I swear if we score, I'm going to lose my shit." Luis says, running a hand through his curly hair, and I can almost feel the nerves radiating off of him.
Well, all 90.000 people in Wembley Stadium feel the exact same way right now. From supporters to chairmen of both respective clubs, sitting on the edge of their seats as we all watched the Champions League final between Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund unfold, live in front of our own two eyes.
My breath hitches in my throat as we're given a corner. The grip on my phone getting tighter as Luis glances at me.
"Okay, we got this, Toni's so experienced-"
"Shut up, I'm trying to focus.." I exclaim, grabbing onto Luis' shoulder to calm him down.
"You can't exactly focus with 90,000 people screaming.." He replies, glancing at me.
I open my mouth to speak, but decide to spare my breath, and stop breathing in anticipation.
Right, at that moment, Toni kicks the ball from the corner flag, it flies upwards as we watch both our players and Dortmund players scramble in front of the goal.
Finally, Dani jumps up and GOALLLL!!
The entire Madridista side jumps up in celebration, my devices almost slipping out of my hand and onto the floor as we jump up to cheer as loud as we can.
"I'm going to kiss Dani's forehead after this!" Luis screams, making me choke on my laughter. I hurry up and return my attention back to my devices, as happy as we were, we still had our job to do and execute.
I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down, before we both go back to doing our jobs.
Our wishes and prayers for a second goal aren't that far away, time-wise. Dortmund player Maatsen tries passing the ball, due to a wrong estimation, Jude gets the ball instead, shooting to Vini.
He goes on to score the second banger of the night. The stadium erupts in both cheers of happiness and screams of protest.
It's even louder than after the first goal, and we know it's only a matter of five minutes before our boys secure the victory over this season's Champions League..
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y/n fixes her shirt for the nth time, trying to fidget with something before she loses her mind. Standing in the tunnel, she glances at Luis. Both of their eyes glimmering, as they wait for the families of the players to enter the pitch to celebrate the win.
They were insanely busy with handling their work, channelling their emotions into doing their job, to make sure it's all taken care of before they were done for the night. The automated system, consisting of already edited work, would take care of the rest from now on...
"Dude, what just happened?.." Luis whispers, glancing at the equally mesmerized girl next to him.
"We won!" She squeals, letting her excitement and happiness show as she hugs Luis. "Fuck, I don't even know what I would do if we lost. I'd actually be having a breakdown right now.."
Luis hugs her back, patting her head affectionately.
"You've worked very hard, y/n. Thank you for being my best friend and best colleague.." He says, giving her a brotherly smile.
"Thank you too, older brother.." She laughs, voice slightly teasing, as she pats his shoulder.
"Oh, I think we can join the celebrations.." He says, pointing to the families they’ve gotten very close with over the years.
The familiar faces joining their loved one on the pitch to celebrate this huge milestone in their careers.
"Come on.." Luis says, dragging her along and onto the pitch.
She looks around, a permanent smile plastered on her face as she's overwhelmed by the emotions running through her body.
"Dani!" Luis shouts, and y/n watches him run up to the goal scorer, just like his promise- Luis plants a fat kiss on the athlete's head.
y/n laughs loudly at the interaction, making eye contact with Dani’s wife, and laughing even harder at her confused expression.
She shakes her head at her best friend’s antics. Realizing she's alone now, she freezes. Cameras were absolutely everywhere at the moment, and she was absolutely sure at least one was pointed towards her.
The weeks following the photos of their dates being leaked were quite turbulent, with a lot of support, but also criticism- it was very difficult to ignore the reactions.
She wasn't anywhere close to wanting to be a public figure of some sort, so the attention was putting a lot of pressure on her.
But loving a star athlete, like Jude meant having to sacrifice some part of her privacy. If it meant she could run up to him now, and kiss his face a couple of times.
Then screw privacy, she'd throw that all away to get to him right now.
Her eyes darting to the rest of the enormous pitch again, frowning when she can't find the boy she's so desperately looking for.
Finally, after squinting a whole lot, and definitely causing damage to her eye muscles, she finally makes eye contact with the equally lost looking Jude.
He's standing in between both his parents, arms around them as he looks around wearily.
Jude's eyes immediately light up in relief when he spots y/n, mumbling something to his smiley parents before he makes a run for it.
Within seconds, he's by his girlfriend's side, and she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist in greeting. He pulls her flush against him in a tight embrace. y/n cups his jaw tenderly to place multiple kisses on his face.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby.." She breathes out, cut off as he presses his lips onto hers, exhilarating kiss that makes them forget other people are around, and especially the hundreds of cameras and phones filming the pitch.
He catches her lips, plump lips sucking onto her bottom lip before they're forced to pull back for air. They pant, faces warm, and cheeks hurting from how much they'd smiled within the past couple minutes.
"I'm proud of you too, baby. Come on, you're my family too. Forget about work and the cameras here for me, yeah?”
She plants her shoes back onto the grass when he lowers back on the floor. She looks down as he grabs onto her hand. Playing with her fingers as he makes eye contact with her.
Reaching up, she swipes at a piece of grass stuck on his temple, probably from being fouled earlier, she chuckles at the sight, biting her lip.
“Come on, then. Your parents are waiting..” She says, turning and dragging him along the pitch. Skipping towards his awaiting, happy parents. Who look at them with an infinite amount of joy and proudness in their eyes.
“He’s a winner! Jude’s our winner!!”
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spngi · 2 months
Text
My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader
Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 |part 5| part 6
Part 7
summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings
warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.
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I watch the man lying on my bed, Carlos is in the same position as the night before, breathing high and I can smell the alcohol of perspiration infesting the room. I open the curtains and windows and let the sun enter along with the breeze to clean the smell of the room.
The man doesn’t move, still too drunk to wake up and I know that an infernal hangover awaits him.
“Wake up” I pinch the skin of his shoulder and he just murmurs leaving me with no patience. “The phone doesn’t stop ringing and if I have to solve any other problem with ports and tax I’ll throw the phone at you, carlos”
He just grunts, opens his eyes slowly and regrets it immediately.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, hoarse voice.
“Good morning” I approach him and extend the cup of coffee with the medicines for him.
“What’s going on?” I watch him scratch his eyes and face me, his eyes stopping when he sees the green nightgown I’m wearing.
It was good to provoke Carlos, even more after everything he told me yesterday, it was good to leave him desperate the same way he left me. The green piece was just a good detail to add to Carlos’ punishment.
“That idiot from the Port of Brussels does not stop calling, I have already solved the situation but it seems that he is too incompetent or just can’t stand to receive orders from a woman” I murmur to Carlos “me and Charles are solving this, but your accountant is also calling to talk about taxes, and we have to leave in a few hours for your cousin’s wedding preparations.”
“I can just...” he breathes, closes his eyes. It’s a lot of information for his head exploding and I could even laugh if I was in the mood. “Lay down for a while? Lie down with me, let’s forget all these calls”
This time I can’t help laughing, Carlos’ words funny enough for my state of mind. As if nothing had happened, as if that was his way of fixing things.
“Get up, Carlos! We still have to pack our bags” I murmur to him, leaving towards the closet.
“You look beautiful in green” his voice resonates groggy around the room.
“I know”
...
It’s strange to share the joy of creating a bond from a new family when mine was falling around. Although I still didn’t know exactly what to do, and the presence of carlos behind me wherever I went like a shadow left me stunned, the word divorce kept returning to my mind.
Maybe it was time for me to give up after all.
The excitement of being with the sainz family, the effort I had in buying the best wedding gift that this couple could receive, the joy in the eyes of the bride for knowing that she would soon carry the surname sainz as well. None of this was able to cheer me up, and I felt like an intruder taking off the luck of the couple.
I had once read in a Lima Barreto book the following phrase “we did not understand each other, their joys were not mine, my pains were not even perceived” and I never felt so represented.
Carlos seems to want to surround me, fill me with his attention, with his affection but that only makes me more uncomfortable, because I know that morning he didn’t choose me when he received that phone call, didn’t even think of me twice or doubted that I had done that. I think I could only really get over it by hearing him apologize, real apologies as an adult man and not that drunk show he gave the other night.
The shared hotel room becomes small enough for me, suffocating with the presence of Carlos. And the game of teasing each other ends up becoming a fierce trap.
I regret having started this game the moment I realized that I couldn’t get away from Carlos here, miles away from our house sharing a normal size hotel room. So every time I showed up before getting dressed or just in a towel after the shower I needed to hear him begging so that he could have me or just touch me, and for most of the nights I need to sleep frustrated with all the words and promises that I don’t let Carlos fulfill.
It is on the night of the rehearsal dinner, the day before the morning of the wedding that I let myself be defeated, maybe if I just let things flow I would feel better, I would remember what it was like to have a happy marriage and Carlos has always provided infinite amounts of pleasure.
I wait for Carlos to get out of the shower, sitting on the end of the bed, watching the TV passing an old movie, waiting and hoping that Carlos will continue begging tonight and don’t leave me a desperate mess today.
When he finally appears in only sweatshirt pajama pants and watches me, sitting, wearing only the old Real Madrid t-shirt of Carlos that became my pajamas a long time ago.
“You’re beautiful, I don’t get tired of saying that” he speaks, hoarse voice and body leaning on the door stop. “Please, cariño! Please let me show you how much I appreciate you, that I love you”
His voice comes out desperate and when he calls me cariño I can’t avoid the chill crossing my body. He realizes and takes the opportunity to get closer to me.
“Please” he whispers, kneels in front of me, brown eyes never breaking the contact, his hand is content to hold my ankle and kiss the area there. “Let me just be with you again, prove you, please I’m begging”
“Why did you do this to us?” I ask him, the same foot he holds I use to move his body away from mine.
“Because I couldn’t see you grow up and be like me,” he admits, “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I know that words will never fix this but I want you to know that I will do everything for us”
I loosen the strength of my leg against him and let him get closer.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks.
“Don’t make me regret it” I murmur to him who doesn’t waste time, the big hands pull me by the waist and the mouth joins in mine. He is desperate and anxious after so much time away and provocation.
Carlos’ hands explore the sensitive skin under the t-shirt, the light touch of his fingers making me more anxious for him, pulling the black curls of his soft hair in the form of retribution. He takes the T-shirt off my body in a single movement when he separates the kiss, his hot mouth going down kisses around my neck, lap and letting himself play with my nipples, his teeth rubbing on the sensitive skin, he is still kneeling between my body, his hands holding my waist keeping me still with his grip, delivered to him.
“Carlos” I call his name, lust flowing from my voice.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of you” he murmurs, his mouth slipping through my body, one of his fingers caressing the already wet fabric of my panties and I hear him moan along with me when he realize that I’m already like this at his slightest touch.
I kiss him again, my hands firm on Carlos’ back probably leaving nail marks, he bites my lip and I moan, my panties going to the ground in a quick gesture coming from him, his right hand playing with the proximity of where I want him the most.
He separates the kiss, arrogant smile on his face before bending down to where I need him the most, leaving small kisses on the sensitive skin of my thigh and getting even closer, and when he arrives in my pussy I let myself lay my body on the bed, my breathing already heavy with the slightest touch. Carlos’ mouth explores my intimacy, my feet resting on his shoulders, one of his hands squeezing my chest while the other focused on provoking my entrance with his fingers, his tongue leaving me a mess crying out for him and after all this time I didn’t know if I was still prepared for all the pleasure that carlos could provide.
He devours me like a hungry man, making me squirm in the hotel bed, my hand trying to cover my mouth to stifle the unnecessary amount of moans coming out of it. Although Carlos had a provocative nature, today he had no patience for this, he wanted to catch up on lost time, leaving my high getting bigger and bigger, and the closer I get the more I move.
“I need you to stand still, mi reina” he murmurs, his head tilted up slightly, his mouth swollen, his thumb making slow and torturous circles on my clitoris. And all this vision makes me moan even more his name, he laughs and uses both hands to hold me against the bed, the strong squeeze in my ass. He continues his exploited, knowing that I wouldn’t last much longer that way, the way I pull more and more of his curls leaving him alert of how close I am.
He continues with slower movements even after realizing that I finally came, my head is in an eternal wheezing due to the pleasure I felt and when I open my eyes I slowly observe Carlos, now standing on the end of the bed watching the work he did, he licks his lip and then his fingers and only this action makes me squirm in bed.
“God how I missed you” he murmurs still standing.
“It was you who put yourself in this position” admirably I still have the strength to answer.
“I know, and I regret it every day” he puts one of his knees on the bed and leans over to my body, his hand caresses my disheveled hair “I will never be able to be grateful enough that you insisted on me”
I know that his words are true, I see in the back of his eyes the emotion this time, it is exciting at least to know that he is opening up to me again, to know that I can read his eyes as before and not the icy astonishment he stared at me in recent months. But, again, the memory of knowing that I didn’t put myself in this situation, that I wasn’t my husband’s first choice makes me nauseous. Then I pull him again for a kiss, more delicate this time, without all urgency and hurry, just showing each other’s devotion.
Not even after the four hallucinating orgasms and the most intense fuck I’ve ever had in one night, and after sleeping like a little angel, full of endorphins and in Carlos’ warm arms I wouldn’t be prepared for what would come next. Even after the morning sex, intimate and slow, full of caresses and whispers, declarations of love spread everywhere. I still wasn’t prepared for the weeding day.
I didn’t know I wasn’t prepared for the wedding ceremony, I didn’t know I would feel terrible at every step.
When I joined the bride for the preparations, and I looked at her, wondering if maybe the future that awaited her would be like mine, I wonder if I forgot some tradition during the wedding for it to have lasted so little, Carlos had never seen the wedding dress I wore, I wore a veil, I had a wreath on my head, I had my new piece, an old one borrowed and I had the blue too, I did all the right things and I still envy the innocence of the future Mrs. Saiz in front of me.
I laugh when they comment on how lucky I am, and how the men of the sainz family have the motto of being gentlemen and romantic and I imagine that mine certainly came with a factory problem.
The worst part is the ceremony, and my tears that I can no longer hold mix with those of the other guests who cry with emotion. I watch Carlos on the other side of the altar, next to the other godparents of the wedding, he smiles at me. He doesn’t understand the real reason I’m crying, his eyes seem nostalgic and maybe he’s remembering the day we got married, how he cried when he saw me at the altar, how my dress made me absolutely angelic as he repeated so many times on that special day, how we couldn’t help but smile with the realization that we were finally married.
My heart breaks with every word prophesied by the priest, with every vow I hear the bride and groom speak, with every good memory I had and was destroyed.
“I carlos oñoro sainz, receive you, Maria, as my legitimate wife. I promise to be faithful, love you and respect you. In joy and sadness, in health and disease, in wealth and poverty, for all the days of our lives. So receives this alliance as a sign of my love and my fidelity” the groom recites the vows, the most sacred laws of a marriage and I can only think of how they were all broken.
In how there was no fidelity, support and unity, in how Carlos and I managed to ruin everything, to break something so sacred.
I feel suffocated in the pink dress that matches that of the other bridesmaids, I clean the controlled tears that run down my face before I become a mess.
And it didn’t matter the way Carlos held my hand during the reception, or how he danced romantic songs with me and made slow and passionate love to me at the end of the night, I was already decided when I left that church.
I just didn’t imagine that it would be at a wedding that I would decide to end mine.
We are coming to an end 😭
I don’t know you were waiting for this or what your bets for how things will end but let me know, I love receiving your opinions and I can’t post nos because it may contain spoiler lol 😂
Thank you all ❤️❤️❤️
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theeoriginals · 4 months
Note
a Klaus fic with this gem from Ozark “look, I know I kissed you last night but I thought I was gonna fucking die”. Change to fit however you want 😘
the last thing i'd do | klaus mikaelson
author's note; whoever sent this im so sorry it's been in my inbox for seven months
warnings; hybrid!reader, mentions of violence, violence against reader, themes of death, klaus gets crazy :), then there's fluff, a bit of angst still sprinkled in, but there's a happy ending
It's a blood bath, is the thing.
She can't tell what blood is hers anymore, and the ache in her body has done nothing but grow steadily over the past ten minutes. It feels like it's been hours since it all started.
She doesn't remember who threw the first punch, just knows that someone had come at her and she had no choice but to fight back, fight for her life.
There's blood under her nails, and she thinks maybe some in her eyes because they're burning, but it might be the tears shining in them.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Klaus had, for once, been hoping for peace. He was always braced for a fight, but he'd truly been hoping for a painless, quick negotiation.
Of course, it's turned into the worst fight they've had in a while.
She's always been on Klaus's side of things; fights, family, life. She's always had her place here, carved out by none other than the Original Hybrid himself. She's never understood just what he saw in her that earned her this place, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Some– most– call her loyalty a form of naivety. Perhaps the sire bond still lingering, despite the fact that she'd broken it years ago. His siblings call it blindness, or ignorance, in their harsher moments. Her friends, the few that happen to be immortal, too, think she's reckless and just asking for him to kill her. Klaus Mikaelson turns on everybody, eventually, they say. The paranoid, hybrid king trusts nothing and no one. He killed his parents, multiple times, and he's kept his siblings in and out of coffins for most of their immortal lives. Why would he ever enjoy the company of one of his sires?
She's never thought he was perfect. That's something people always get wrong. They think she sees no flaws in him, when really she sees them all for what they are, she sees him for who he really is. She still loves him.
Some days she thinks he knows how she feels for him. Sometimes she can't keep it out of her eyes, and he'll catch her looking at him and his eyes will narrow slightly, like he's warning her to contain it.
Other days, she thinks there's no way he knows, because if he knew the capacity of her adoration, he'd surely have to say something. Tell her to move on. Compel the feelings away, possibly. If he were that cruel to her.
She doesn't think he would be. Since that first day he found her in the woods with what was left of her pack, they'd all watched him in fear. Some confused. Angry. But she was mystified. Enraptured by him and the power that radiated off of him.
She spent a long time feeling weak when she was younger. Even after she triggered the curse. But when Klaus told her she could become immortal, be strong, be at his side, she was the first to accept. The only one in her pack to ask him to turn her.
He'd set his eyes on her, something unidentifiably dark gleaming in his blue eyes, and when she latched onto his wrist to drink his blood, he hadn't looked away from her.
When he cupped her cheeks, he'd brushed his thumbs along the curve of her cheekbones and told her he'd make it quick and painless for her, and when she opened her eyes, he'd be there.
He'd kept his word, then. And he'd kept it ever since.
This, though. He'd given her his word, knowing her hesitance to fight, knowing that unless it was life or death, she'd rather avoid conflict. He promised her there would be no bloodshed here today.
It's not his fault, this time. She needs to tell him that. She needs to be at his side to make sure they're still fighting together, like they have for so long, yet so little time.
She throws a vampire off of her, with nothing but his heart in her palm and she quickly drops it to the ground at her feet. Turning, she pushes through the chaos, trying to cross the room to where she last saw him.
"Klaus!"
Her voice echoes over the mess and she sees him turn in the direction of it, and the fire in his blue eyes has her stopping.
He has blood smeared around his mouth and chin and she knows he's torn out more throats than he can count. The numbers are dwindling on both sides, barely anyone left standing, and she goes to close the space between them when a blinding pain stops her in her tracks.
Her choked off grunt is nearly silent amidst the yelling, but to Klaus it's like a gunshot.
He watches the point of the stake stab through her chest and feels his breath stall in his chest, fingers going numb all the way to the tips.
Her hand comes up, trembling as she skims her fingers over the blood blooming on her shirt around the stake. When she looks back up at Klaus, she tries to say his name but it's suffocated by the blood bubbling up in her throat.
Her knees give out from under her and she hears his hoarse voice yell her name as she goes down.
She can't see it, but she feels the pain that refreshes when he rips the stake from her back and throws it into the heart of the vampire that had attacked her.
She can't see it through the blur of her tears, but the sounds of retreat echo in her ears around the waves crashing.
When Klaus speaks again, his voice is closer and she blinks blearily, finding him hovering above her with wide eyes, looking uncharacteristically scared.
Her brows furrow when she sees the look on his face and when his fingers brush hers, she's quick to intertwine them with hers.
He whispers her name, the sound broken with emotion, and she squeezes his hand unconsciously.
"You're alright," He tries, valiantly ignoring the graying color of her skin despite the fact that he got the stake out of her. "You're alright, love. The pain will go away in a minute,"
She frowns, shaking her head against where he has it cupped with the hand that she's not holding. "Doesn't hurt," She whispers, swallowing roughly around the copper in her mouth.
"What?"
She repeats herself. "Doesn't hurt. Can't feel anything,"
Klaus makes a noise that she thinks might be grief. "No, no, it's alright. Here," He rips his hand from hers and his fangs tear into his skin, and he shoves his wrist against her mouth, letting as much blood drip into her mouth as he can before he heals.
She swallows it dutifully, but that numbness doesn't quite go away, and she wonders why he's so worried about it.
"Sit up," He commands her, though his voice is nowhere near as firm as it can get. "Sit up, and I'll help you the rest of the way. We'll go home, and you can rest."
"Klaus," She says his name, smiling around the syllables. "Come here."
He leans down at her request, eyes fluttering shut on a shaky breath when she lifts a blood-smeared hand up to his cheek. He whispers her name and her smile gives way to bloody teeth.
She uses what strength she can to lean up and kiss him, the pads of her fingers pressing into his pale cheek when he inhales sharply but presses back instantly, deepening the kiss.
She lingers as long as she can until she has to pull away, gasping for a full breath that she can't quite reach.
Still, a smile sits on her lips and when she meets Klaus's worried gaze, she doesn't falter. "Thank you,"
Confusion flutters on his face for a moment, but he jostles her when she starts to go limp in his arms, hand falling from his face. "No," He pulls her weight up, lifting her against his chest as her eyes flutter shut. "No. Wake up. Wake up!"
Silence follows his demands, his pleas, and through the blood on her cheek, a single tear falls from his eye, cleaning as it slides down her skin and falls into nothing.
Despite the silence surrounding him, he feels deafened.
────── 
When she opens her eyes again, she can feel her body again in a way she couldn't before. Luckily, she can't feel any pain.
Her eyes go down to her chest where she knows a gaping wound had been, but there's nothing left, not even a scar its wake and she takes a deep breath, relieved that it's not followed by a throttle of blood coming up her throat.
"You're awake,"
The voice startles her, but she isn't scared when she turns her head against the pillow to look at Klaus. A frown sprouts on her face when she sees him sitting in a chair at her side, looking like he hasn't slept in days. It's not always necessary, but they have to take breaks sometimes, and she hasn't seen Klaus look this tired in a long time.
"I am," She says, swallowing a mouthful of spit in an attempt to wet her throat. "I don't think I should be, though."
"I owe many people a great deal of things, so you'd better stay that way."
His voice is dark and she can hear the anger in it, but she's not used to it being focused on her. "You didn't–"
"Do not," He cuts her off, his words nearly a growl that has her eyes widening. "Do not tell me that I shouldn't have saved you."
He leans forward, grabbing her hand in his, and she shrinks with embarrassment when she remembers how she'd touched his cheek and kissed him.
"Klaus," She squeezes her eyes shut, huffing her humiliation out. "I am– so sorry that I–"
"Don't," He cuts her off again, hand pressing pointedly against hers. "Don't apologize if you don't mean it."
She falls silent for a moment, lost as she looks at him. "I just... I thought I was going to die. And I just– I had to have it at least once."
He visibly swallows and she watches that pretty shine light up his eyes again. "You thought you were dying, and the last thing you wanted to do was kiss me?"
She nods despite the toe-curling embarrassment coursing through her.
He cuts a sharp breath out of his nose, shaking his head.
Before she realizes it, he's hovering above her, cupping her cheeks gently. "Silly little thing," He quietly scolds her, not giving her time to argue before he kisses her, ever so softly, softer than she ever thought he could be. Like she'll break beneath his touch if he doesn't treat her like glass.
When he pulls away and she forces her eyes open, she finds herself fighting off a tingling sensation from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "What'd you do that for?"
He smiles, small and fond. "The next time you kiss me, you don't have to be dying to do it."
"Oh,"
"Don't ever do that to me again," His voice has a warning in it, but she's already smiling too hard to pay attention to it. "You know how I feel about people disobeying my orders."
Her grin is audible when she responds. "Yeah, I do."
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patolemus · 5 months
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Sterek fic recs: Time Travel AU Edition
As I promised @oldefashioned here is the start of my unending sterek fic reccing. I’ll go by category because this post will never end otherwise.
1. song of the phoenix by graveltotempo
In a last ditch effort to save Beacon Hills after everyone else has died, Stiles channels all of his energy and magic into cleansing the Nemeton and the magical core of the town. But he is more powerful than he knows, more connected to the Nemeton than anyone can guess, and a group of kids, teenagers and adults wakes up in the middle of the night ten years earlier with a second chance they didn't know they needed and a bond they don't understand. Stiles though? Stiles wakes up with a little more.
Notes: It's just. So good. It's kinda hard to explain but basically no one knows what's going on but at the same time it works. Kinda. They're working on it. Stiles is awesome in this, I especially love his relationship with the Hales, because of course I do. It's ongoing.
2. Twice And For All by novasillies
“Derek,” he said despite himself. The werewolf’s eyes sharpened. Scott gave him a distressed look. “Do I know you?” He asked tensely, and Stiles grinned in return. “Oh, no,” he answered, “Not yet.” - In which a well-timed conflict between the magic of the Ghost Riders and Stiles' spark sends him back to the day Scott got bitten. Stiles pointedly changes nothing and so God complexes, needlessly complex romantic drama, and pure, unbridled silliness ensue. (Updates every Thursday wink wonk)
Notes: This is to date one of my favorite time travel fics of all time, across multiple fandoms. Stiles in this one is just *chef's kiss*. Completely unhinged, I love him. Also, the sterek? Easily one of the best dynamics I've read. It's ongoing, only four chapters left!
3. Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill
Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?  Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?
Notes: I liked this one because it's not the typical Stiles travels back in time after everyone else in the pack dies. It's got a different premise, still somewhat canon compliant (maybe??? canon enough), and it's amazingly done. It's complete.
4. Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill
"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." ----- The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.
Notes: So good! Stiles is a traumatized bean and the Hales are just everything! It's complete.
5. The A Spark of Hope and the Butterfly Effect series by Phlinting
It's been eleven years since Scott was bitten by a feral werewolf and, despite his pack's many victories along the way, Gerard Argent's influence lives on. As the knowledge of the supernatural spread to the general population so did the hatred and fear of the unknown. The McCall pack has been picked off one by one and Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski, and Peter Hale are the only three left, on the run and barely surviving. But Stiles has found a spell. He has the magic, the spark, and his belief. He has his dad and Peter to help power it and he has the will and desperation to succeed. He's going back to the Hale fire and this time he's going to stop it ALL before it starts. It's the perfect solution. Too bad things never go quite according to plan...
Notes: The Sheriff and Peter are *chef's kiss* here! I really don't know how to explain all that happens here but it gets a little out of control in the best way. It's complete.
6. The The Long Way Round series by exclamation
A magical accident sends Stiles back in time. Now he's stuck in New York, living with Derek and Laura, and the only way to get back to his own time is to learn to use magic. Meanwhile, he must figure out how much he can tell them about their future. Can he warn them about the dangers they face? Can he change his own past?   And can he trust the creature known as Bookworm, who seems to know him better than he knows himself?
Notes: This series had me in a chokehold, I cried so much but it was absolutely worth it! Stiles doesn't plan to travel back in time on this one, this just... happen, and it all spirals a bit out of control. But don't worry! You may have no idea of what's going to happen, but the author certainly did and they did an amazing work. It's complete.
7. It’s Happening by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
Derek stopped listening to him, brain going a mile a minute.   Derek, it’s fucking happening! Derek, please!   He would recognize that fucking voice anywhere. Two years. Two fucking years had passed, and now this little shit was standing in front of him, speaking his name, and grinning like an idiot. “It’s you,” Derek said, earning him a confused look from Stiles. “The phone call. Two years ago. It was you.” (SNYE - January 2nd - Time Travel)
Notes: This is not canon compliant. It's a whole other universe, actually, and it's so good. Good ol' Derek is losing his mind over here, but it's alright! Things work out just fine. It's complete.
These ones are not time travel, but dimensional travel. It’s similar enough so here you go.
8. The play it again series by metisket
In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself. “Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”
Notes: I honestly don't know how to show the whole of my appreciation for this series. I think I've read this about five times since I found it last year. Stiles lands himself in a whole other dimension, where the Hale House fire never happened and Scott is human. It goes about as well as you can expect. It's technically not complete, but the main piece is.
9. The Home Across The Universe series by TricksterShi
You can lose your home and spend your whole life looking for it, sometimes you may even find bits of it again. But sometimes home goes out searching and finds you first. ~ The day he loses his father and his pack, Stiles is transported to a parallel world where his counterpart is nine years old and seemingly small changes have had a huge impact on the course of events in Beacon Hills. At first sticking to the shadows as a vigilante to protect his otherworld father and younger self, Stiles is soon drawn out into the light and onto a path that forces him to confront the traumas of his past so that he can make a place for himself in this new world.
Notes: Just. This absolute beast of a universe is seriously so well done, and so good. Imagine play it again, but much more depressing and waaaay longer. The angst is on point! The Stilinskis are the best in this one. And Derek and Laura have my heart, love my pookies. Stiles is not having the best times, but he'll be looked after, don't worry! Also technically not complete, but all the pieces in the series are done.
10. The Ley Lines series by forestofbabel
Stiles is back in town after many years, angry and bitter and disconnected from anything you might call pack. It might as well be a tradition at this point that he gets drunk and wakes up in the woods. Only, this time, something is different.  The ghosts that have weighed in his heart are alive and well, and Stiles gets to witness a life that could have been his. There is one thing he knows, though. No matter how much he may want to stay, he has to go home.  If the ley lines you should follow, and your dwelling at the end, and find your presence has been hollowed, your hereafter is to amend." *** Stiles is faced in this new world with someone he had been avoiding for a long time. Himself.  The Double Walker cannot survive where the Double Walker dwells *** Derek had an itch under his skin. There was something missing. He knew exactly what it was. Who it was. His regrets paraded themselves in a steady stream, and he had to watch as Stiles left time and time again, knowing it would be the only way to let the ley lines heal. That didn't make it hurt any less. Still, some part of Derek hoped.
Notes: I honestly just read the first part, but I thought I'd add the whole series so people know what they're getting into. The first part can be read as a stand alone, so if anyone wants to stop after that they absolutely can. The fic itself is a bit sad, but it has a happy ending! Stiles travels to another dimension, and shenanigans follow. The series is complete.
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starlightsuffered · 3 months
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Put a Baby in Her
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Info - Timothée's pov, hanging out with children, wanting children, light lactation kink, no Dom or sub, breeding kink, dirty talk, cream pie, cock warming
It had started so innocently, as these things often did with her. One small thing could become a complete obsession. It had been this way since day one. On the day l'd met her, she'd been wearing cherry perfume.
Before l'd quite known what was happening to me, my house smelled like cherry candles all the time. My shampoo was cherry scented. My cologne had hints of cherry. I needed to be engulfed and surrounded by everything that she was.
We'd been visiting London for a little bit as a vacation. She had a friend there she wanted to visit. While we were taking a walk one day, a small child kept following us.
The small boy eventually tugged on y/n's sweater sleeve. He looked pitiful and scrubbed at his eyes. His trembling lip showed his attempt to be brave. He couldn't be much more than Preschool age.
"H-Hello," he said softly.
"Hey, what's up baby?" She asked.
"I can't find my mum," he sniffled.
"Oh angel," she said kindly. "We'll help you. Let's make sure you're safe. Where was the last place you saw her?" We began to wander around the park and finally we found a weeping woman speaking to police officers. By this time the small boy had begun to slow down. Y/n had picked him up to help him move along.
The moment of reunion was beautiful. The way y/n smiled looking at the mother and son made something in my stomach flip. I didn't like when the child had to leave her arms. She looked right with a kid. She looked like a natural.
I tried to ignore it. We were so busy after all. I had the press junket for Dune two. I managed to push it down the next time we had sex. I felt an urge to rip off my condom and fill her but I swallowed it.
The next hit had been when her cousin asked her to babysit her baby daughter. I had elected to sleep in and had awoken to a dozen adorable pictures of her and the sweet baby at breakfast.
I had melted immediately. I'd rushed down to the breakfast restaurant and only gotten fifteen minutes of watching my darling with a baby. It had made me ravenous for her.
I had wanted so badly to breed her afterwards. I had taken her again and again, in so many positions. She didn't know why I was so insanely horny. She also didn't know half of my moan when I finished was because of grief.
Grief that I was emptying myself into a condom and not her pure, fertile, womb.
Now, Dune was out, and we were more relaxed. I didn't have a schedule that was packed full. Every day I was considering the idea of children. I was thinking of so many more pros than cons. Nothing was deterring me. I wanted her to be the mother of my children. I needed it.
Then, the dreams came. I had been dreaming of her round and full of my sperm. Her breasts would be full of sweet milk. I fantasied of all the raw sex we could have. I pictured her riding my throbbing cock as I watched her swollen belly bouncing. Knowing that I was the one that made her full and overflowing would be an honour. It was such a sexy idea. Nothing I did, no amount of times I masturbated could get it out of my head.
"I want a baby," | blurted as we ate dinner.
I had been lost in thoughts about breast milk. I was tempted to try it myself. I loved her so much and I needed every part of her. I needed her bare and raw and full of my seed. She needed to feed me the nectar of her nipples. We would be one, so close, and creating another being. I couldn't think of anything more bonding, more romantic, more enticing.
"What?" She asked, letting her cutlery fall to the plate. The clatter led into a long silence.
"Please," I whispered.
"Now?" She nearly giggled.
"Y-you'd be okay with that?" I asked, my eyes wide and desperate.
"Don't think I haven't noticed how..... worked up you've been lately," she crooned as she lifted off her chair. She swayed over to me and straddled my lap.
I was already hard underneath her. She was kissing me slowly and wetly. I was finding it hard to breathe correctly. My hands were all over me.
"Wanna get me pregnant?" She teased.
"Fuck yeah, wanna fill you with load after load," I said in a raspy voice.
She pulled off my top and I did the same to her. I felt up her breasts slowly and sensually. I imagined them full and leaking with milk. I shuddered as | imagined puffy nipples I could latch onto and partake from. She would be a goddess, and I would worship.
"Yeah?" She cooed. "Raw, bare, and deep?"
"Oh fuck," I gulped. I kissed her neck and played with her tits as she moaned and rubbed herself against my aching dick.
"Be the mother of my babies."
"Bedroom," she panted.
We were laughing and throwing our clothing. When we reached the bed we fell into bed in a fit of gasps and giggles.
"Fuck I love you," I groaned.
"I love you too. Let's make a baby Timothée," she said with a bright smile.
"Yes!" l agreed.
She handled my cock with her sweet hands. I laid back, watching her entrance. I wanted to see myself enter her raw. I wanted to watch myself disappear inside her bare, wet, cunt.
"Ohhhhhh," he both let out a breath as she guided the tip.
"Ready?" She asked as she posed to slide down.
"Balls deep?" I begged.
"So you can breed me," she agreed.
"Fuck," I responded as I throbbed. My girl slid slowly down. Both our mouthes hung open in lust as I bottomed out.
"Holy. Fuck," she stated plainly. That was all it took. She was bouncing and I was thrusting.
"Yes, yes, wanna make you fucking full, stuff your perfect cunt," I whined. My fingers held her hips firm so I could fuck into her like a wild thing.
"Fuck baby! Flood me with cum. I want you to breed my womb. Make me grow with your perfect semen," she whined.
The wetness was unlike anything l'd heard before. We slammed together over and over. We were both making sounds of intense need.
"You gonna keep my cum inside you? Yeah pretty girl? You gonna grow my baby?" I asked.
"Yes, mhm, I love it. Oh, fuck, baby, it feels so damn good. Your raw cock is ramming my fucking body," she cried out. The need in her voice was heaven.
"Need to get you pregnant. I need to put a baby in you," | heaved. I could feel my cock pulsating more than it ever had. I feared | wouldn't last long.
"Breed me like an animal. Spill all your cum inside me. I want to go over and over. I want to get round. I want to be filled with you," she whined. Her walls were clenching so much. She gripped me like a vice and her eyes were full of desperation.
"Every surface of the house," I promised. "I'll fuck a litter of pups inside you on every surface."
"Wanna grow with you," she whimpered.
"You gonna stay on my cock?" I asked.
"Always."
"I won't even need to eat. I can just drink milk from the heavy sweet breasts and I'll have enough energy to breed you," I tried out the idea. Her eyes went wide and I felt the climax of her pussy. She was so tight and squeezing me. She bit her lip in pure ecstasy and I had never heard the perfect moan that left her mouth. It was unlike anything.
"Yes!" Was all she could get out.
"M'gonna cum, l'm gonna fucking cum," | blabbered.
"Fill me, cream pie, make me round, give me your baby," she urged me.
"Be a mommy," I breathed and she nodded eagerly.
"I'm gonna put a fucking baby in you," I cried out as my orgasm took over. The eruption was wild. I couldn't breathe and I saw stars as my cock took over. Ropes of cum were filling her womb. I was thrusting without thinking, as my body jolted up and I exploded over and over.
She collapsed on top of me. I didn't take my dick out. I could feel the gooey load if unleashed into her cunt. It was running down onto my balls as we panted. She let out a small whine as I began to hump into her softly once again.
"Shhh, know you're tired," I soothed. I rubbed her back as I pressed my cock up and deeper.
"Just let me take care of it. I'll fuck my load deeper and give you another. Don't worry, I'll breed you. I'll keep you topped off."
"Thank you," she breathed, and she moaned at the sound of sloppy wetness of my cum being pushed further
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yeonzzzn · 9 months
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☁️sweet venom (literally): jungwon
a you complete me series: four / seven
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pairing: jungwon x afab!reader
word count: 1.6k
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synopsis: spending a lazy night with wonnie until he craves your blood and you crave eternity…
genre: established relationship, vampire!jungwon
warnings: mentions of blood, and super cute wonnie ♡
a/n: tried a little something different with this one!
p1: vampires bleeding mlist
☾ sunghoon(1) | niki(2) | heeseung(3) | jungwon(4) | jake(5) | jay(6) | sunoo(7) ☽
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Jungwon laid his head in your lap scrolling through his phone while you had your nose in a book. 
You enjoyed nights like this, laying on the couch with your soulmate while reading a good book as he naps or watches TV or even reads with you. It was always so perfect. 
The living room was quiet so you nearly jumped ten feet in the air through the roof of your shared apartment ceiling when Jungwon released a loud gasp from his lips. 
“Goddamnit Won,” you slapped your book to his abdomen, “You scared me!” 
Jungwon smiled cutely at you, “I’m sorry my love, but Heeseung and __ are back from their trip.” 
You sighed, “That’s good, why is that such a gasping moment?” You understood how close the boys were, so obviously Wonnie would be excited to have his oldest brother back in town, but you don’t get why it was as big of a deal, “Are you texting them?” 
Jungwon nodded, tilting his phone up to you, “Read the group chat.” 
You glanced over at his phone, reading the messages.
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Jungwon giggles and brings his phone back to himself, his thumbs typing away. 
Your phone was sitting on the coffee table and you’d have to make Jungwon move just to grab it. 
“Tell them I said congrats,” you said, tapping your book to his forehead. 
“I already did, my love.” he said, waving the book out of his face, “They are going to have a summer wedding!” 
You closed the book, tossing it to the coffee table, “A summer wedding would be perfect for them.” 
Jungwon agreed, tossing his phone onto the table next to yours. 
He sat up, wrapping his arm around you pulling you to him, “Pretty sure the main cause of their engagement is the council probably told Heeseung he needed to marry __ for her to have any say in important matters.” 
You looked up at him confused, “Why would that have to happen? Didn’t she automatically become queen when they bonded?” 
Jungwon nodded, remembering seeing that line of fate whip around his hyung and __ tying them together after defeating Dorian. 
He thought the feeling of being in a pack with the king himself was a strong feeling, but it was nothing to the feeling after he bonded with his queen. 
“From what I am assuming is that one of the first kings probably made it a rule, probably to keep the queen, or even another king, from using the vampire king in some way.” 
You blinked, even more confused than before, “How would the queen, or king, use the vampire king? Wouldn’t they be bonded?”
Jungwon shrugged, “Maybe the first king wasn’t bonded to his queen?” 
It made more sense after thinking of it in that way, the first king probably wasn’t bonded to his queen. He probably loved her and she used that to her advantage until he caught along. 
Either way, you knew Heeseung and __ would rule the vampire world perfectly together. They are soulmates after all. 
“Anyway!” Jungwon said cutely, squeezing you tightly, “Should we start planning our outfits for their wedding? We can wear matching ones!” 
You nodded, smiling so wide at your mate. Watching him as he throws out every outfit idea possible. 
The more you listened to him talk, the more your thoughts took you in another direction. 
You’ve been bonded to Jungwon for quite some time, yet you’re still just a human. 
Jungwon always said after everything with Dorian was taken care of that it’ll finally be the perfect time to turn you. 
But when would that perfect time be? 
Jungwon has to be careful with you. Whether it’s kissing, cuddling, hugging you, or gently pressing you down onto your shared bed while he carefully hovers above you gently touching you. 
If you were a vampire too, he wouldn’t have to treat you like a glass doll. 
“Y/N?” Jungwon called to you, waving a hand in your face, your attention coming back to reality. “Y/N? Baby? What’s wrong?” 
You softly smiled, “Nothing, I just zoned out.”
Jungwon, cupped your face in his hands, “You’re really cute when you zone out.” 
You giggled, rolling your eyes at him, “Wonnie, my eyes were probably all crossed.” 
He tried to hide his smile by shaking his head, “No, they weren’t.” 
You shoved him, “You’re a liar Wonnie!” 
Jungwon finally let his beautiful smile show, giving the tip of your nose a soft kiss. 
“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead against yours. 
“I love you too, Wonnie.” 
Jungwon placed his lips to yours, his thumbs rubbing gently on your cheeks. 
Jungwon’s heart rate was increasing sitting this close to you…the smell of your blood through your body made him dizzy. He wanted to drink from you. 
After the night of your first date when he got the taste of your blood on his tongue, he craved it even more. 
Drinking from the blood bags wasn’t enough anymore, it got him by, but it wasn’t the same. 
Jungwon has wanted to ask to drink from you again but was way too scared to. Mostly now that the rest of the pack isn’t around to stop him in case…he loses control. 
You trusted him, he knows you do. But the last thing Jungwon wants to happen is to drink too much and he loses you. 
He wouldn’t be able to live if he lost you. 
Normally being this close to you never bothered Jungwon, there’s only been a few times when the smell of your blood got to him. But most of the time he was able to control it. But tonight was hard. 
Jungwon deepened the kiss, his hand sliding down to cup your neck gently. He was already starting to lose control. 
You felt Jungwon’s fangs poke your bottom lip, slightly scaring you. 
You released your lips from his, slightly pulling back, “Won?” 
Jungwon looks up at you, his crimson eyes glowing, fangs peeking out from his top lips, not fully retracted yet. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’ll go grab a blood bag and take a walk to calm down.” 
He started to stand up, but you pulled him back, “Wonnie,” He softly looked at you, his chest rising and falling, “Just drink from me.” 
Jungwon’s heart rate sped up, shaking his head quickly, “No. Not happening.” 
“Why not?” 
“No one else is here to help keep me in check,” Jungwon admitted, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 
“Jungwon,” you cupped his face with your hands, “I trust you.” 
You backed away from him, tilting your head and sliding your shirt down to your shoulder, neck fully exposed. 
Jungwon’s fangs completely retracted, his breathing becoming uneven. 
“Baby…I-“
“Just do it, please.” You interrupted him. 
Without a second thought, Jungwon’s fangs were attached to your neck, breaking the skin. 
You gasped at the sudden puncture. Feeling his lips and tongue on your skin, taking in your blood. 
Jungwon placed his hand on the other side of your neck, the other tearing your shirt apart, giving him even more access to your bare neck. 
You wrapped your arms around him, hands playing in his hair as he continued to feed from you. 
Jungwon was in heaven. Absolute pure bliss. The high ones feel from smoking weed, is the same feeling he gets from drinking your blood. All he wanted to do was chase this high even more. 
“Wonnie,” you softly breathed out, “I’m starting to get dizzy.” 
Jungwon didn’t want to stop but knew he had to. Right when he was fixing to release his fangs, your voice stopped him. 
“Turn…me…” you carefully whispered, head so dizzy you could barely make out the words, “Keep…me forever.” 
Jungwon never thought you’d ask. 
He’s been wanting to wait until it was a perfect time and moment, but what better moment than right now while he already has his fangs deep in your neck?
“It’ll sting, baby,” he said in your neck, taking more of your blood down his throat before pushing his fangs in deeper, the venom releasing from them. 
You gripped onto his shirt, your whole body burning from feeling his venom, oh his sweet venom, travel through your bloodstream. 
Jungwon released his fangs from your neck, your blood dripping from his lips and onto his shirt. 
His hands held you tightly and your body went through the motions. 
You figured his venom soaring through your body would be painful, you’ve seen enough vampire movies to know that the venom isn’t a walk in the park. 
You kept gasping for air, and pulling at Jungwon even tighter. 
“Shhh baby, it’s okay, I am right here. It’s almost over, I promise.” 
You felt your K9’s coming to a sharp point, poking your bottom lip. 
Then everything all at once fell quiet. Your body stopped hurting but damn you had a massive headache. You felt the holes that were once in your neck from Jungwon were now closed up, not a scar in sight. 
You slowly open your eyes, Jungwon being the first thing you see. 
Jungwon smiled at you, seeing your now crimson eyes glowing back at him, “How do you feel baby?” 
You softly scoffed, “My head hurts, and I’m hungry.” 
Jungwon chuckled, cupping your face with his hands, “I’ll get you some blood bags, okay?” 
You nodded, observing your mate as he walked to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of blood bags from the fridge. 
“Wonnie?” You called for him, he glanced over at you from the kitchen, the bags in his hands, “I think you need to change your clothes and clean your face.” You circled your finger over your lips. 
Jungwon chuckled again, looking down at the blood on his shirt, “Yeah I’ll go change.” 
Jungwon set the bags down on the counter beside the sink, running the water and splashing his face, your blood washing down the drain. 
He quickly made his way to you, handing you the bags, “I’m going to change my clothes and I’ll be right back. Drink but do it slowly, okay?” 
You nodded. 
Jungwon placed a kiss on your forehead before running off to your shared room and returning to you within seconds. 
“You’ll have to teach me how to run that fast.” You said, placing the blood bag to your lips, and taking it all in. 
Jungwon pulled your hair behind your ears, “The only thing I’ll need to teach you is control, and even then I have full faith in you.” 
You felt different, brand new. Like you could take on the entire world. 
“Well, we now officially have eternity to figure it out.” you smiled at him.
“Yes baby,” Jungwon whispered, placing his lips to your nose, “All of eternity.”
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hellfire--cult · 1 year
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Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Reader} - Chapters and Warnings
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Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Warnings - Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch.3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 🔥 - Ch. 9 🔥 - Ch. 10 - Ch. 11 - Ch. 12 - Ch. 13 - Ch. 14 - Ch. 15 - Ch. 16 - Ch. 17 🔥
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU
Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut, oral sex, p in v, unprotected sex, A/B/O dynamics but not explicit, dirty talking, breeding kink, bdsm, choking, mental abuse, manipulation, depression, self sabotage
Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3
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Summary:
The world only reigns in Betas, the middle in between an Alpha and Omega, someone who provides children with the adequate amount of treatments and prescriptions in medications, making them fertile. That is how the world procreated and mutated into just this kind of gender.
Alphas and Omegas were a myth.
Normal jobs, normal people, normal life, great friends. That's what you want. But of course, there's always a needle somewhere that pokes and doesn't stop. Yours was called Eddie Munson.
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This has Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics. Let me be clear, NONE of this is going to be relevant till a certain part of the story. It is a very important dynamic indeed, but there's no explicit behaviour in the characters at the beginning or in the middle of it. Like literally, PACKS DO NOT EVEN EXIST.
The smut will be MILD. I know that Omegaverse tends to go EXPLICIT, but I do not write that. There will be at some point, mentions of rut, heat, and other things that I will explain along the way. But if you are uncomfortable at some point, do not read. There will be though, dirty talking, because it cannot really be avoided. But it won't happen in all the smut, I promise.
Just treat this as a normal Enemies to Lovers AU, until the Omegaverse lore appears which won't be too explicit.
No Stranger Things lore involved.
Slowburn, of course. 
Specific topics will be included that may be triggering to some: ab*se, violence, drugs, mental health, and cursing.
There'll be no usage of Y/N in this story. 
I do not own ANY of the characters involved.
The picture of Eddie in the cover (Which is property of Pitifulbaby on tumblr) is actually how Eddie looks in this AU. Same old metal head, just with a beard and using manbuns.
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Now: Let's go over some definitions if you are not familiar in the Omegaverse universe. (ADAPTED TO THIS STORY, OF COURSE)
- Alphas: In some stories, they may exhibit "dominant" behavior or have other temperamental quirks. They are able to impregnate Omegas. Male Alphas usually have a knot when aroused, and they go into rut for a specific amount of time.
- Betas: Betas are often presented as having "normal" human anatomy, with none of the special attributes of Alphas or Omegas. They may be the peacemakers between Alphas and Omegas. They cannot impregnate or get pregnant if not going through special treatment to do so.
- Omegas: They can get pregnant and go into heat for a few days, depending the person. Omegas are often portrayed as the most fragile of the hierarchy, with frailer bodies and painful presentations.
Alphas and Omegas have SCENT glands. They have them on their neck, wrists, and sometimes on their ankles. While Alphas scents are usually musky, dominant, rough; Omegas have a sweet, peachy kind of smell.
This scent only becomes stronger as they go into rut or in heat.
Alphas and Omegas also have a Mating gland, something that Betas do not have. This is always positioned between the junction of the neck and shoulder, and they have to bite one another to seal their bond, and be forever mates. 
It can happen that one of the two might not seal the bond, and not bite the other person. The bite will disappear in time, as well as the bond that the person that bit created, but it is a painful process for the biter. 
As there are no Alphas or Omegas in this story, the world is as we know it, except for the fertility treatments people have to go through to get a baby. 
There are no packs, no 'pups' as people call the children in this AU.
(If you have more questions, please don't be afraid to ask!)
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Follow me for updates! ❤️
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kitsuvil · 5 months
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— plus one 【picturesque/ayato smau】
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【 masterlist 】 there is a written portion here after the first 6 photos!!
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“I know I said I'll cling onto you the whole event, but I didn't expect to actually be forced into doing that,” I grumbled as my grip on Ayato's tan suit jacket grew tighter. “It's so crowded…” Before I had the opportunity to react, my hand shifted away from the cloth texture and was replaced by the feeling of cool and gentle skin. “In that case, I believe holding my hand will prove to be more effective," Ayato chuckled. I highly doubt anything like that will make this more effective. If only a great technique to raise my heartbeat, but a heart attack is not what we're aiming for here. We weren't at the event early, but I wouldn't say we were late either, so the number of people already here was astonishing.
"Is there a corner with fewer people we can rest at?" I peeked out from behind Ayato's shoulder. "There should be. Come with me," he began to move forward through the crowd. I had no choice but to be dragged along, though it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I had expected. He already knew his way around these events, so it made sense that I would look like a lost dog in comparison.
"I almost regret agreeing to come with you." A pout showed up on my face as we finally found an area against a wall that wasn't so densely populated. "Don't worry, it's only like this until everyone gets situated. However, if you want to leave early at any point, just let me know. This is a lot for someone's first time at an event like this." The smile on Ayato's face felt like honey, so much that it almost made me forget why I was overwhelmed in the first place. "I just have to remember everyone is here to bond over photography, and then I'm golden... I think."
"You think? Haha," Ayato chuckled, covering his face with his palm as if he was pretending he didn't find my misery funny. "Hey," my pout grew ever stronger. "It's okay. I understand. There were days when I thought the older photographers were going to maul me like a pack of aggressive bears. Of course, I was only in my late teens at the time. It takes experience, which is why I'm willing to let you hold my hand through this... There was nobody to hold mine when I was alone trying to pave my path through these crowds."
I stayed silent for a moment. There was plenty of time to ponder over his words later, but I couldn't help chewing my lip over them now. It was a reminder that he wasn't so different from me, regardless of our status or position in anything. We were both just photographers, and we happened to become friends, too.
"I remember when I first started taking my photography classes at the Uni. It wasn't too unlike what you're describing now. I was seated next to someone who worked so hard that I thought my brain was going to explode when I peeked at their computer screen."
"But isn't that similar to you now? Working so hard to create a photobook, pushing along through your classes, balancing everything your heart desires. I'm sure even [Name] from the past worked equally hard."
"Then it seems both of us are ever-growing and tweaking our skill," I turned my head to face Ayato instead of the various tables with food I was staring at in order to avoid making eye contact with the man next to me. "Why did you really take me here, instead of your sister or one of your friends?"
"What I already told you is true. I think it can open a lot of doors for you. It might be slightly selfish of me, but I want to make sure your goals are ones you can achieve. Because your future matters to me in that aspect."
Just as quickly as my mouth opened to respond and question Ayato further, it went closed again. There was a crowd of people heading over at full speed now that the event was finally settling into place. Perhaps now wasn't the right time for this conversation. I tried to back away and distance myself from Ayato as the people grew closer, afraid of getting in the way, but I didn't get far before I felt a tug on my hand. By 'not far', I meant not even a single step away.
"I thought you wanted someone to keep the anxieties at bay? Don't say a word about the people coming over, I'll handle them. You only need to listen and stick close, [Name]." Ayato's hand was closed on mine, squeezing it so that I couldn't leave, and the smile on his face never faltered. Neither did his attempt at pulling me closer towards him. So he was serious. Right. The whole reason for me being here was to become comfortable with this community, so it makes sense for me to stick around.
But why was he so painfully insistent, and why was his grip on my hand so comforting, and why did his cologne smell as nice as it did? Why did his voice echo through my skull like smooth water running down a creek? Why was his proximity to me like a warm blanket on a winter night, even when he was the one who pulled me so close when I tried to step away?
"So you all have been gossiping about who I choose to bring to my events like it's any of your business? However, if your interest longs to be satiated so strongly, this is a close friend of mine who is working on diving into the photography world. Treat them with as much respect as you would with me." Ayato was beside me, but for most of this interaction, it sounded like he was miles away. To jump into something as large as this, I felt both thrilled and privileged. But I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat that was fear of too much eyes on me, anxiety that my talent wasn't good enough to even be here.
"Would you like some refreshments? We have sparkling wine, as well as tomato sandwiches personally made by our gourmet chef." The staff member brought my attention back to reality as they offered me a few treats from a platter. "I'm alright, but thank you." I shook off any remaining negative thoughts that were floating around with a deep breath. That was when I realized half of the eyes around us that I originally thought were staring at us with critique and judgment were actually giving looks of bewilderment, almost like they were admiring gazes.
"Don't they look like a power couple?" Two nearby women's conversation faded in through my ears. "I see it. The way Mr. Kamisato is holding their hand... There's no way they're not a couple, right?"
Okay. Maybe not the conversation I want to be eavesdropping on. I tried to grab my hand and shake it away from Ayato's, but it was to no avail. "Is there something wrong?" He looked back at me after waving away a photographer I recognized as the creator of one of the photobooks I had at home, sitting in my dorm room. "No, I guess not... Just how high popularity are some of these people?..." I mumbled. "I think the fact I'm here says enough," Ayato silently laughed, regaining his posture quickly after.
"Can't believe I forgot you're the infamous Kamisato Ayato, pfft," I laughed as some of the pressure dropped off my shoulders. "Only to the majority of people here. To you, I'm just Ayato."
Maybe it wouldn't be too much of a pain to get used to this.
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— ruptured appendix situation still going strong but i had to bust out this chapter LOL hopefully the written portion serves as a little treat bc i'm gonna cry myself to sleep if nobody likes it /j, i love it and that's all that matters. ayato is so hot.
— taglist; @griseoo @fangygf @calamitygutz @driftwoodmanor @meigalaxy @kyon-cherri @xiaossocksniffer @quacking-simp @kaitfae @imgayandshesanime @lxry-chxn @ni-ki-ismyluv @cante-lope @kookiibun @kamisatoyato @astolary @dontmindtheevie @sn1perz @0range-juiceee @h3xi2g0n3 @eutopiastar @samyayaya
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blackgirlsrxck · 1 year
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Guys My Age
Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem NASCAR Reader
Summary: What happens if the reader decides to go to her first Grand Prix? Who will she meet? What will happen?
Note: Let's face it. Lewis looks AMAZING for almost being 40. He doesn't look a day over 27. Anyways, hope you enjoy let me know what you think in the comments. :)
Word Count: 1.5k
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 I've always been passionate about racing. It's been my dream since I was a little girl to become one of the best drivers of my generation. I've faced numerous challenges and obstacles along the way, but I never let them deter me from pursuing my goals.
While NASCAR has been my main focus, I've always been a huge fan of Formula 1 as well. The sport’s glamour, speed, and international appeal fascinated me. One race that stood out in my mind was the prestigious Monaco Grand Prix. The glitz and glamour associated with the event seemed like a dream, and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to witness it firsthand. So, when I received an invitation to attend the Monaco Grand Prix as a guest, I couldn't believe my luck. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I eagerly packed my bags and headed to the beautiful principality.
As I arrived at the track, the excitement in the air was palpable. The sound of engines revving and the smell of burning rubber filled the atmosphere. I watched in awe as the sleek F1 cars zoomed past me, each one a marvel of engineering and speed.
Little did I know that fate had something extraordinary in store for me. As I made my way through the paddock, I caught the attention of a few drivers. There stood Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, and Daniel Riccardo. They made their way towards me. “No way am I meeting you, Y/n Y/L/N one of the greatest NASCAR drivers in this generation.” Spoke Daniel. He recognized me as one of the best drivers of my generation. I didn’t know what to say. This was so surreal to have these F1 superstars fangirling over me, a young NASCAR driver.
We quickly struck up a conversation, bonding over our shared love for racing. They invited me to join them for dinner later that evening, an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Eager to meet more of the F1 drivers and learn about their experiences, I accepted their invitation. If someone would have told me that I would be talking to some of the best drivers on the paddock and it would result in me being invited to dinner with them, I would have laughed square in their faces. This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I just hope they don’t pick the most expensive restaurant. Hey, I might be a race car driver, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend $100 on a burger that I could get for $7 at Burger King.
The race went on as usual. A few of the drivers had to DNF due to car problems. Max Verstappen ended up winning which wasn’t a shocker to anyone. Fernando Alonso P2, and a Esteban Ocon P3. I decided to make my way to my hotel to get ready for the dinner. 
The dinner took place at a luxurious restaurant overlooking the stunning Monaco harbor. By the looks of it, I would probably be paying $100 for a burger.  As I walked in, I couldn't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over me. All the top drivers of the 2023 F1 season were present, including the legendary Lewis Hamilton, a man who had broken numerous records and established himself as one of the greatest drivers in the history of the sport. Not knowing what to do with myself, I just stood there awkwardly. Daniel finally noticed me and made his way over. 
“Y/n, I’m so glad you could make it, we saved you a seat next to Lewis,” I nodded my head and made my way to sit down. I introduce myself to everyone. A few of the drivers started to ask me questions about my career. That was until Fernando Alonso asked me how I got into NASCAR. 
“Becoming a NASCAR driver wasn't an easy journey for me. It required hard work, dedication, and a lot of determination. From a young age, I had a deep love for speed and competition, and I knew that racing was my true calling. Growing up in a small town, my exposure to motorsports was limited. However, my passion burned brightly, and I immersed myself in everything related to racing. I devoured books, watched races on TV, and even tried my hand at go-kart racing whenever I could.
As I got older, my dream of becoming a NASCAR driver became stronger. But I faced a significant hurdle – lack of representation. As a young Black woman in a predominantly white and male-dominated sport, I knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy. However, I refused to let that deter me. I started by joining local racing clubs and participating in regional competitions. Every weekend, I would head to the local tracks, ready to prove myself on the asphalt. The adrenaline rush I felt as I sat behind the wheel, the wind rushing past me, was exhilarating.
With each race, I pushed myself to the limit, fine-tuning my driving skills and honing my instincts. I learned from my mistakes, analyzing every lap and seeking guidance from seasoned racers who were willing to share their knowledge with me. But it wasn't just about my driving skills. I realized that to make it in NASCAR, I needed to be physically and mentally strong. I hit the gym, working on my endurance and building the strength required to handle the powerful machines I would eventually drive.
As I continued to race, word started to spread about my talent and determination. It wasn't long before I caught the attention of sponsors and racing teams. The opportunity I had been waiting for finally arrived when I received an invitation to join a development program for aspiring NASCAR drivers. The program pushed me to my limits, testing every aspect of my abilities. But I thrived under the pressure, constantly improving and proving myself on the track. The hard work paid off when I secured a spot on a NASCAR team as a rookie driver.
My NASCAR journey had officially begun. I faced challenges along the way, both on and off the track. There were moments of self-doubt when the weight of the industry's expectations felt overwhelming. But I refused to let those moments define me. I pushed through, determined to break down barriers and pave the way for future generations. I knew that my success wouldn't just be a personal victory; it would be a symbol of progress and representation in a sport that desperately needed it.
As I raced in NASCAR, I became a role model for aspiring drivers who shared my background and dreams. I aimed to inspire them, to show them that they too could break down barriers and achieve greatness. Becoming a NASCAR driver wasn't just about winning races and championships. It was about proving that dreams know no bounds, and that passion and talent could overcome any obstacle. It was about changing the face of the sport and leaving a lasting legacy for others to follow.” I see the way Lewis looked at me as I finish my story. He had this sparkle in his eye that I saw only one time before. With my ex boyfriend, before he became a douchebag. 
As I mingled with the drivers, I felt a connection with each of them. They were incredibly supportive and shared stories of their own racing journeys. Lewis, in particular, seemed intrigued by my background and accomplishments. His charisma and passion for the sport were captivating, and I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn't expected.
Over the course of the evening, Lewis and I spent a lot of time talking. We discovered that we shared many interests outside of racing and had a similar outlook on life. Lewis talked about how he became vegan and how he eventually got his dog Roscoe on the diet. There wasn’t one thing uninteresting about him. Despite the 20-year age difference, our connection seemed undeniable. But as the night came to an end, doubts began to creep into my mind. Would our age difference become an obstacle in the pursuit of a romantic relationship? Would people judge us? Would the age gap eventually become a source of tension between us?
As I returned to my hotel room that night, my mind was filled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, I couldn't deny the feelings I had developed for Lewis. On the other hand, the practical side of me worried about the challenges we might face. I open the door to my room and make my way to the king sized mattress where I fell on. Closing my eyes, I slowly start to let myself drift to sleep, until my phone vibrated. 
It was a Instagram notification from lewis. I clicked on it to see what said. I know you felt what I felt tonight. In the two hours we’ve known eachother, I feel like we were supposed to meet. It just makes sense. We make sense. Despite the fact that  I’m old enough to be your father.  If you feel the same way meet me at room 388 in 30 minutes. -lewis <3  Was this really happening? Am I hallucinating? I think I need a drink. Besides I’m in Monaco, its legal. 
To be continued… 
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smutburn · 8 months
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'my boy'
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Pairing: Oliver Quick x Transmasc!Reader
Summary: Invited to Oliver's birthday party by one of your close friends, you find yourself alone in the so-called 'green room'.
Warning(s): Transphobia, dysphoria, t slur drop, but like this is all just for plot then it goes away and ur reaffirmed lol
Smut! Warning(s): Smut [p in v], praise AND degrading kink, bit perv!Oliver, dom!Oliver, uhhh fuck idk man sex?!? scary!!
A/N: first smut FANFIC guys kinda nervous
Your childhood friend, Annabel, had invited you to the birthday party of one of her classmates. You were always a huge fan of parties, but would never dare to go alone, you and her would be inseparable at every single goddamn party.
That is, until, you began to transition.
Annabel would never be transphobic towards your face, but behind your back? She'd say the most gnarly backhanded shit possible. You didn't know this of course, you had started transitioning after she left for college. She was a year above you.
Once the news had gotten to her, she couldn't help herself from secretly deadnaming you and misgendering you, often times introducing you as her "tranny friend" behind your back, whenever you had finally gotten into Oxford.
At this point of your transition, your body had grown to be more masculine, your veins became more prominent, your voice dropped octaves, and you had even grown yourself some lovely stubble. You believed to be semi incognito, when it came to transitioning.
Accepting her invite, she had ordered a driver to pick you two up and escort you to Saltburn. Neither of you had been there before, but according to Annabel? It was the party house.
You both arrive to the front stairs of the estate. Music blaring from inside the place, despite its large size, somehow reeking of booze and weed. You two walked into the party, with flashing lights and the place packed to the brim, you could only imagine how many people were in one room alone.
Annabel took your hand, and quickly found your ways towards to bar. This was her secret talent, always identifying wherever the fuck substances could be found. She grabbed a bottle of Malibu Pineapple for herself, and Malibu Watermelon for you. You two had always bonded over Malibu in high school. She knew you so well, didn't she?
As she walked away, you felt no choice but to follow her. You didn't know anybody at this party, so who would you have gone to anyway? You trail behind her, closely, as to not lose her, taking swigs of your Malibu as you go. Stopping abruptly when she meets her friends. One of them notices you behind Annabel, and yells to you.
You feel like your world stops as you hear your deadname drip from the lips of this girl you've never met. The music is too loud to make out the rest of her sentence, but no music can drown out the syllables of your deadname. Your heart drops to your stomach, Annabel's head whips around, looking to her friend, then looking to you.
You smile weakly and shout an excuse along the lines of, "I have to use the restroom", before quickly walking away. You feel your heartbeat inside of your ears as you exit the main party room. You continue going through this labyrinth of rooms before stopping in a green room and plopping on the couch.
You could still hear the music, but luckily, you felt more of the vibrations than the music. You bring your knees to your chest and bury your head in between them. Stifling your sobs, you try to breathe as you recollect what just happened. Questions were swirling through your head at 180mph that your brain felt like it was larger than your skull.
"Hello?" A low voice says, causing you to look up as the room becomes so silent you could swear you heard your blood stop pumping.
Your eyes meet with a boy who's kneeled in front of you and the couch. Your instant reaction is to put your feet on the floor and sit up. This changes your eye level, which then causes the boy to look up at you.
"Hi." You mutter. You clear your throat before looking back down at him. The only shred of light on his face being the moonlight from the window.
"Are you alright?" He replies after a beat. You can't bring yourself to lie to this man, so you simply try to smile and nod. He places his hands on your knees and continues, "Are you sure? You can tell me y'know. Wouldn't want anybody that isn't me to be having a bloody bad time at my party."
"Are you Oliver?" You manage to say without thinking. "Yes, I am, so you've heard of me?" He chuckles to himself, as if he's the funniest guy alive.
"Yes..? Kind of.. I mean, this is your party, it'd be a lil embarrassing if I'd show up to your party not knowing at the very least, your name."
"I suppose so, dear." He looks up at you as he slides his hands further up towards your thighs. Your face flushes as your body instinctively twitches at the sudden change of touch.
Oliver looks down to your thighs, and back up to you. "Some nice jeans you've got here. Not quite on theme. Expensive?"
"No, I.. I'm not like rich.. Or anything..." You break the eye contact, looking to your side. "I know you probably think that's like.. Lame.. I mean you're having this cool party in this mansion and I'm just, here."
"Oh no, no darling. This isn't even my home. I'm not quite rich either."
A beat.
"Oh."
"Oh what?" He stands up in front of you, holding your chin up to look at him.
"I just.. I didn't- know..." You stutter out, feeling flustered from his bold advances.
He leans in closer to you, bending over to almost, barely, touch your lips to his. In less than a second, he's able to scoop you up, turn himself around, placing you on his lap as he takes your seat on the couch.
"You're quite handsome, you know that?" He states, trailing kisses down the side of your neck. Biting and nipping gently, sliding your white tank top down your shoulders as he gets to your collarbone area.
You're unsure how to react to this, but there is one thing you are sure of. You are enjoying this.
You open your mouth to speak but he quickly hushes you.
"Ah ah ah, let me adore you." He places an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. A hand begins traveling south, first visiting your thighs before reaching towards the zipper of your jeans.
"Oh- Uh- Ollie.. Stop.." You quickly spit out. He immediately moves his hand away from your zipper and rests it on your shoulder.
He kisses your neck and whispers into your ear. "What's wrong darling?"
"Nothing I just... I'm not.." You can't find the words to tell him who you are. A tranny, Annabel would probably say.
A man is showing interest in you for the first time since you've transitioned to male. He knows you as a man, and only a man. He doesn't know the 'girl' you used to be. Revealing this could ruin it all. You've never gotten the surgery, you never planned to, which you knew was okay. But would this boy still continue to pursue this experience with you if you had told him?
"If you're not ready, I understand dear. We don't have to." He turns your cheek towards him and gives it a peck. "I just thought you're quite cute." He taps on your left thigh.
"I- No I.. I want this I just.. I'm..." You let out a sigh before muttering your reason. "I'm not.. a real guy"
"What? Of course you are dear, how could you not be?" He plants a kiss along your shoulder line.
"No it's.. Oliver I'm.. Trans I..." He shushes you again.
"Do you really think that's something I'm concerned about?" He nibbles at your ear.
You hear your heartbeat in your ears. You've got no idea how to react to this.. Besides reaching for his hand and placing it back towards the zipper of your Goodwill jeans.
Undoing your zipper, he reaches down tugging at the elastic of your boxers. "Is this okay?" You nod in response, but he doesn't move.
"Yes." You confirm verbally, causing him to slide his hand down into your boxers, placing his fingers onto your wetness. You gasp out of shock.
He begins using the pad of his fingers to rub up and down your wet folds.
"What a good boy.. So wet f'me already, hm? I've barely touched you, slut." He whispers as he slips his middle finger into your entrance. Causing you to mewl in pleasure, adjusting your hips as he hooks his finger inside of you. "Aaah.. O-oliv..er..."
He plunges his ring finger inside of you without a warning, slowly sliding his digits in and out of you. He adds his thumb, rubbing soft circles on your clit. You grab for a pillow. You release a loud moan as he plunges his fingers inside of you, hooking against your walls, sending your hand straight to your mouth to muffle the sound. Oliver moves your hand away and holds it down.
"Bad bad boy. You need to let people know how much of a dirty fucking slut you are f'me. So let whoever passes by hear your beautiful moans. You're mine right now, alright?" He whispers against your skin, almost threateningly.
"Ha..aaa.. y-yes.. fuck-" You agree. You begin grinding yourself against his fingers, essentially riding his hand to increase the pleasure you're feeling. You can feel as Oliver grows beneath you.
"F-fuck.. Oh.. Who's a good boy? Hmm? Who's my good slut?" He mutters into your ear, your grinding against his fingers is also rubbing his hard-on he has. You whimper in response as he continues to fuck you with his fingers even harder.
"Speak up, I don't understand whimpers and grunts."
"Fuck- I... I am.."
"Good boy."
As you feel that familiar knot form in your stomach, you clench around his two fingers, riding the feeling even harder, causing him to pull out. You mewl in response, your body instinctively chasing for his fingers again. "O-oliver.."
He pats your thigh twice, signaling for you to stand up. You stand in front of him.
"Take them off." He leans forward and tugs at your waistband of the jeans. You push them down off your legs as quickly as you can, then following with your boxers, discarding them somewhere to the side.
You watch as he pulls down his white suit pants, which you've now noticed has golden embroidery, and boxers, his hard cock springing out against his stomach. Leaking with pre cum, he uses his hand to gesture you closer.
"Sit down baby."
You follow his orders. Climbing onto the couch with your knees, you line your wetness with his tip, before slowly plunging down. You hiss in pain as he guides your hips down.
"I know, I know, but I promise it'll feel good." He continues to lower you down before your cunt swallows his length.
"F-fuck... Yeah.. That's my boy." He allows you a moment to adjust to his size. "Go when you're ready."
After a few moments of you digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your head in the crook of his neck, you begin to push yourself back and forth. He holds you by your hips, guiding you and he throws his head back.
"Ahhh... Yeah.. Fuck... God, you're such a slut f'me. Just fucking yourself on me, hm?" He teases. He places his other hand on the back of your neck, almost to your head, and pulls you in for a kiss. It's intimate, passionate, hot, and every other possible word you could think of to describe a good kiss. The way he glides his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth before you part your lips. He plunges his tongue in, exploring your mouth and the tastes of you. He can taste the rum you had earlier.
Placing both hands on either hip, he rocks you on top of him even faster, causing him to groan out of pleasure. Which then, in response, causes you to mewl as his hard cock twitches inside you.
Like earlier, he picks you up swiftly, without breaking connection, he lays you on the couch, propping your ankles up above his head, as he continues fucking you. The new position allowing for more pleasure for the both of you, a new stimulus hitting your g-spot, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to release.
He picks up the pace, both of you moaning harmonically, to where it sounds almost scripted. Using a hand to hold your head up, he forces you to watch as he slams his dick in and out of you. Throwing his head back, he becomes a moaning mess, his cock throbbing and twitching inside of you, he feels his own release on it's way.
"Fuck... You wanna be a good slut for me? Hm?" He looks down at you predatorily, you nod and try to get out a yes, but it's interrupted by another slam inside of you, which you then moan out in response.
"I want you to come on my cock. Can you do that? Can my boy do that for me?"
"Y-yes O..Oliver..."
"Good."
He continues to slam himself in and out of you, the sound of his skin hitting your skin, your moans filling the room, you arch your back as you feel yourself finally release for him. Your legs twitching and your back arched, he fucks you slower, allowing you to ride out your high, before he pulls out, and comes onto your stomach.
"Fuck..."
Your breathing is heavy, you've only just noticed that.
He slides his finger up your stomach through his cum, and plunges the white substance into your mouth.
"Good boy. Cleaning up my mess f'me. Slut."
You nod as he continues feeding you the white ropes he let out onto your stomach. He stands up to leave for a second, before returning with a warm rag, rubbing your stomach, core, and thighs down.
"You did so good for me." He praises you as he continues cleaning you up. Using a dry towel to dry the sweat thats collected in areas of your body. He plants a kiss on your forehead before helping you into your boxers. He picks you up and leads you to a bedroom, tucking you into the bed, he climbs in next to you.
He cuddles up to you, and plays with your hair until you've fallen asleep. Planting gentle kisses onto you and whispering sweet nothings.
"Goodnight y/n," is the last thing you hear before you've fallen victim to a deep sleep. The only thought you had last was how he could've known your name? You don't recall sharing it.
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Text
So Much For Summer Love and Saying “Us”
I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You
Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader
1.5k words
Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, angst because this thing has been surprisingly angst-free so far
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Summer had come and gone too quickly. All the weeks of Roy and football and fun had blurred together and given way to the transition into autumn. Before long, it would be time for you to pack your suitcase and return to Southampton, a long train ride away from Roy and the things you had shared all summer.
You did your best not to dwell on that as the days dwindled by. Instead, you focused on your time with Roy, on his hands on your body and his lips on yours and his laughter in your heart. Of course, you did your best not to let that focus wander to the uncertainty that plagued you; what happened when you returned to school? Was this just… over? Would you become a phone call when you were in town? Would you have to watch in magazines as he went back to flittering from one model to another? You weren’t sure if your heart could handle it.
As the seasons began to change, you finally allowed yourself to admit what you’d known all along: you were absolutely, without a doubt, completely head over heels for Roy Kent. And you wanted to be his girl. His only girl.
And before your term began, you knew you needed to tell him.
You were firm in your decision as you trotted down the stairs, ready to join your dad for another day of training. He greeted you in the kitchen with a friendly nod over the top of his coffee cup. Ever since that night you went with Roy to the casino- where Roy had made sure you were back at the hotel before even your dad had returned- your dad seemed to have relaxed a bit. Maybe it was because he saw Roy keep his promise. Maybe it was because the two of you had been better at hiding your flirting around the club. Whatever it was, you were grateful to see your dad start to thaw.
“There’s some eggs on the table,” your mum called as a greeting as she poured her own mug.
You grabbed a plate and sat down, rehearsing in your mind the things you wanted to say to Roy when you met him that night. He’d asked if he could make you dinner again; it was the perfect opportunity for a more serious conversation, you decided. And maybe, if he reciprocated your feelings, a little bedroom action to cement things.
Doing your best not to giggle at the mere thought of Roy Kent’s bed, you grabbed the paper, flipping indifferently to the entertainment section. Maybe reading about whatever shenanigans Prince Harry or Paris Hilton had gotten into would be a decent distraction.
As you flipped the page, a familiar face caught your eye and stole your breath.
There was Roy- your Roy- smiling next to some insanely gorgeous actress. You had seen her in some cheesy horror movie earlier in the summer; you’d recently read that she was in the running to be the next Bond girl. And she was standing far too comfortably with the man who’d been climbing out your window mere hours ago.
Your head was clouded with confusion and jealousy as your dad sat beside you, saying something you were far too distressed to hear. He repeated your name once, twice, until you finally realized he was talking to you.
“What, Dad?”
“The sports section,” he said- repeated, actually- as he stared at you. “Can you pass it to me?”
You absently handed him everything that wasn’t the entertainment section, unable to take your eyes off the photo. Below it, a small blurb speculated that this was the mystery woman Roy Kent had been seeing lately; surely he had to be seeing someone, since he hadn’t been seen out as much as usual. According to the tiny article, the two were spotted at a recent team celebration, one that you, of course, had not attended, and talked for quite a while before Roy left. Before Roy left and went straight to your bedroom window, actually.
Your dad could sense your distraction, but not your distress. “What’s so interesting?” he hummed vaguely. “The Beckhams pregnant again or something?” He shot you a toothy grin, knowing your investment in your favorite supercouple, but that grin faded when he saw the numb expression you wore. “Love?”
His eyes landed on the paper in front of you. For a moment, his face softened with pity when he saw the photo, realizing immediately what had you so distracted. But just as quickly, his face hardened as he drained his coffee mug.
“Well, that’s Kent for ya,” he mumbled. “It’s a good thing it never went beyond your little crush on him. Men like him are best left on the pitch, right darling?”
You looked down, blinking back the tears that had formed. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Best left on the pitch.”
Of course, when you walked into the changing room, Roy’s eyes were immediately on you. His normally sexy smirk instead felt mocking, as if you were nothing but a silly little fling that had boosted his ego. Not that it needed boosting; he’d always made it clear he knew how beautiful, how talented he was. And for weeks, you thought you were special, getting attention from such a beautiful talented man. Now you just felt stupid, thinking a few weeks of sneaking around together meant something more to him.
“Morning, princess,” he hummed, raising an eyebrow at you. “Got another book for you if you’re interested.”
Instead of returning his smile, instead of flirtatiously asking what book he was recommending, you simply turned your face away from his. “No thanks, Kent.”
His face looked something close to dumbfounded as you walked to your dad’s office. Even before your romance- or what you thought was a romance- had begun, you’d always had time for Roy. Always a joke, or playful eyeroll, or a lingering smile. He’d never left an interaction with you feeling anything but pleased. But now? Now you left him confused and wanting something more than the three little words you’d given him.
But that’s all you gave him all day. His smirks were met with silence. His winks had you turning away. Any effort to start a conversation was interrupted by the tasks that suddenly required your full attention. Your poor heart ached too much to act like the two of you were fine. All summer, you were able to fool yourself into thinking Roy was different than the rumors, his reputation, your dad’s expectations. Even though you had initially kept your guard up, he’d slowly torn it down, kiss by kiss. And now, you were reminded why you’d needed it in the first place.
Roy Kent was the kind of man who could truly break your heart.
Once the incredibly long day was over, you trudged outside after telling your dad you’d wait for him in the car. The lot was quiet, mostly empty, except for one other car, whose driver stood beside it.
“Oi.”
Roy’s gruff voice, which normally had you smiling and blushing, now had your heart sinking. His face was completely crumbled, those brown eyes positively pitiful. He approached you with slumped shoulders, looking nothing like the cocky football star you’d fallen for. If you weren’t so devastated, you’d probably try to smooth the crease between his thick eyebrows and invite yourself over for takeaway and a movie. Instead, you folded your arms and looked down at your shoes.
“You alright?”
What a stupid question. Of course you weren’t alright; you were spiraling, feeling like the biggest fool in the world. Roy, who had made you feel so special, had made you a fool. With all of his stupid flirtations and horribly lovely words, he’d built you up, just to drop you and let you break.
But at least you didn’t have to let him see you break.
“’m tired,” you managed to mumble as you stepped around him to try to get to your dad’s car before those tears you’d been holding all day finally fell. “Got to try to wrap shit up here and get ready to head back to school soon.”
Roy cleared his throat, clearly not leaving you alone. “Right, right. Your term’s starting soon.” He took a deep breath, letting it out heavily. “Well, maybe a nice dinner will help you relax.” He tried that sweet smile again. “I was thinking of trying a new recipe. You like paella?”
Some part of you wanted to give in. His earnest eyes and kissable mouth had your heart tugging towards him, willing to ignore whatever the newspaper said just to get a little bit more of Roy, a few more crumbs of affection to sustain you until your next great romance. But the sinking feeling in your stomach, the one that kept saying ‘Told you so’, had you shaking your head brusquely.
“I’m not coming over,” you murmured while unlocking your dad’s car. “Have a good night, Kent.” Without another glance at him, you climbed into the passenger seat, not looking up until you heard the sound of Roy’s car door slam shut and his vehicle driving away.
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