#Even though I 'ruined' HER ceremony

[thatuselesshuman]

Ik it's a well known fact that high school punishments are highly skewed but I'd like to provide a specific example that happened to me back in the ye olden days of high school

So one day I was being inducted into a club that shall not be named which believed in high achievement, aka high grades, service hours, etc. The ceremony was nothing special, basically just walking across the stage and a couple people giving a speech, so my friend gave me some money to fall and make it a bit entertaining. I accepted, falling as I walked onto the stage.

Now let me put the reactions into perspective, since it's important to the story. When I fell, a couple people gasped and my friends laughed, sure, but otherwise the ceremony went on as usual after that. The ceremony wasn't ruined or even really interrupted.

Now, considering that information, what do you think the punishment was when the principal found out? Maybe a stern talking to? Maybe detention? Or, let's go a little harsher, maybe probation in the club?

What if I told you that not only was I suspended for 3 days, I was also removed from the club along with the Journalism club, which I was also apart of? What if I told you I was then barred from joining either of those clubs again the next year?

Now, you may be thinking that my school was just harsh. Maybe this type of response was normal for all mistakes. What if I told you that the year previously I had reported someone for bullying me (with video evidence) and all they got was a day of detention, without even being removed from the football team or any extracurricular?

Personally, I'd think that'd sound like a load of (true) BULLSHIT

Their reasoning was that the ceremony had always been a solemn ceremony, one that was meant to show off the future leaders. They said my joke had interrupted the intended purpose.

Now if they had told me that previously, their reaction, though still an overreaction, would have made more sense. BUT THEY DIDN'T. THEY BARELY TOLD ME WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO IN THE CEREMONY, LET ALONE WHAT IT WAS ABOUT. I just thought it was a random club initiation, even though it seemed a little fancy. How was I supposed to know that I 'disgraced' the school through falling (only my friends, their parents, and the principal knew it wasn't an accident)?

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Full Circle

🔥Pairing(s)🔥→ Stepbrother Dean Winchester x Male reader ⚠CW⚠→ stepcest, gay, gay-sex, top Dean Winchester, bottom male reader, possessive Dean, obsessive Dean, choking, spanking, praise kink, rough sex, Dean stalks you, jealous Dean, sort of fluff then smut, anal, anal sex, anal fingering, masochist reader, and Dean is rough but loving. He sabotages your relationships.  🔥Rating🔥→ Explicit  🔥Requested🔥→ Yes

🔥Word Count🔥→: 3.3k

🔥Summary🔥→ Dean has been in love with you since you moved in. It was wrong but he couldn’t help himself. He intimidated all your pursers and made sure you were single. However, he stopped his ministrations when he saw he was ruining your love life. He watched with jealousy as you got into relationships. His moment came when you came crying to him. 

Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! 

This fic doesn’t follow the supernatural timeline!

It was wrong. Anyone who saw it will say it's wrong to love your stepbrother beyond a family bond. Dean didn’t see it like that, though. He defended himself by saying, “We’re given the title of brothers, but we’re not related in any way.” People will still say it's wrong, but at this point, Dean didn’t care. 

Dean still remembers the day you appeared in his life. 

Dean was eighteen when their father announced he was remarrying again and that they’d get a new brother. Dean wasn’t too happy about getting another sibling—he thought he and Sam were enough—but he stayed quiet and didn’t complain. John then gave another announcement that they’d be meeting their new mother and brother. 

The older Winchester was reluctant to meet the addition to the Winchester family. From the information he was given, you were a year younger than him. He was spacing out and blocking external interactions. ‘Why must father’s new wife come with an attachment? It would’ve been better if it was just her… not some “brother” that’s coming.’ Dean cursed as he bit his lip from annoyance even though they hadn’t arrived yet. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear his father calling out to him. “Dean! Change that attitude and meet your new brother.”

Dean groaned and sighed as he drank his soda before looking up to meet his new stepbrother. He choked as he made eye contact, hacking as the soda itched his throat the wrong way. His face was flustered from embarrassment as he tried to clean himself. ‘Shit! I wasn’t expecting him to be that…’

The Winchester who was usually confident, charming, and witty embarrassed himself. He was gobsmacked, he didn’t expect you to be cute, handsome, and attractive! Dean never found another man attractive but he was bi-curious; guess he’s bisexual. After his humiliation, Dean introduced himself, attempting to brush off the incident. 

“Well, I guess we’re gonna be stepbrothers! Nice to meet you..” 

XXX 

You were a plague on his mind. You filled his mind every waking day as he tried to push down those feelings for you. It only got worse after the wedding ceremony when you and his new mom moved in. The older Winchester unknowingly began watching your moves; how you acted, dressed, and talked. Every last piece of you made him want you more. 

He went as far as to steal your underwear, jerking his cock to your musky scent. His imagination went full drive, imagining you in various positions. Begging and whining for him while he fucks you to oblivion. Dean had the greatest orgasms in his life, painting himself with his load. 

“Dean! Where is my underwear?” You yelled as you searched your room. This was the fourth time this week that your underwear had gone missing! Other belongings had gone missing like some clothing, pillowcases, and even your toothbrush. 

At first, he was adamant about you, but now he was becoming obsessed with you. Whenever you two spoke together, he cherished those memories and every detail. He started stalking all your social media accounts, gathering every piece of information. His obsession reached the point where he could feel your presence in the room.

Obsession was blooming, but so was possessiveness. 

Dean masked his possessiveness by acting like a concerned older stepbrother, justifying his actions to be out of love and protection for you! He was protecting you from rotten men! So, he invaded every aspect of your life, asking who you’re texting, seeing, or even where you’re going. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you. I just wanna protect you.”

“Aww, you’re worried about me?” You teased. You always wondered what it would feel like to have another sibling, especially one that’s protective. So, you played off Dean’s protectiveness as just a sibling thing. However, Dean was serious, something you couldn’t comprehend. 

When you started attending his university, he began stalking your every move. Jealousy and fury surged through his body as he watched men and women alike talk with you. Your natural charisma and good looks caused more attention to come to you. 

Dean attempted to cease further advancements from other men by making– forcing you– you to be in his group of friends. Using his popularity and large stature, Dean intimidated any of your pursers, blackmailing them, or getting physical. Whenever anyone came close, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you possessively like you two were a couple. 

You were flattered by Dean's possessiveness, unaware of his obsession though. He just wanted to protect you! That’s what a good stepbrother does, but it's starting to get out of hand. Because of Dean’s ministrations, you were lacking any type of social interaction or relationships. All the guys you talked to distanced themselves or refused to speak to you again. 

Dean was too blind to see how you were feeling until he heard your cries coming from the dorm. Whenever he looks at you now, you just look depressed– saddened that nobody wants to be near you or be in a relationship. The older Winchester began questioning himself.

After days of contemplating and trying to justify his actions, Dean decided to back off. Even though the deepest parts of his mind were telling him that everything he did was for your safety. Despite his own unpopular opinion, Dean backs off and watches as you engage with other men. It took a lot of willpower to not stomp over there and snatch you from them. 

As a way to channel his jealousy and fury, Dean went to the gym every day as he continued to watch you. The constant routine caused him to become bulky. Many men and women threw themselves at him, and Dean indulged, trying to bury his affection and jealousy. However, none of it worked. Someday, Dean hopes your feelings will come around. 

That day finally came three years later. 

XX(three years later)XX

For three years, Dean watched in agony and jealousy as you got into an intimate relationship with someone who wasn't him. Dean, from day one, said he didn’t approve and made it abundantly clear. He watched like a cuck as the guy was lovey-dovey with you. Even worse, he could hear the sounds of moaning and bed squeaking at night. Admittedly, he did jerk off but only imagined himself being the one fucking you. 

Every day, Dean prayed to whatever God there was for misfortune to strike your relationship. It was an asshole move to pray on the downfall of his stepbrother's relationship, but Dean felt something was wrong with that man. He was later proven right.

“H-He cheated on me! That fucking asshole! I… I did everything…” you yelled as you took all your anger on some pillow before crying and burying your head. 

Dean watched, having the face of a concerned brother but inside, he was ecstatic. This was his chance! He could use this moment to slowly insert himself back into your life. Surely, helping you overcome this massive obstacle would make you fall in love with him! Dean will never cheat on you like that asshole did and could be a better boyfriend, maybe husband. 

Because nobody is gonna pay some guy or girl to come after him!

“Hey, Hey… it's okay. Come here, let me hug you.” Dean says tenderly as he pulls you into his embrace. Your cries muffled into his flannel jacket as the older Winchester soothed your cries. He could hear your rugged breathing calm down as you relaxed into your stepbrother's hold. 

Dean repeated this for the next few days which turned into weeks and months. He did everything to make you forget that man; taking you out to eat, movies, just sitting around and talking, or playing games together and just getting closer. Closer than what’s accepted between stepbrothers. He made sure you blocked the asshole's number and got rid of everything that reminded you of him. 

You were starting to feel something with Dean. You never looked at your stepbrother like that but now you were seeing him differently. His charming smile, funny personality, and bulky body from hours at the gym. You often caught yourself staring at Dean for long periods before turning away embarrassed. 

His biceps flexed, pulling his shirt slightly up to show his happy trail, walking around with no shirt on, or hugging you from behind. You blushed and smiled as Dean’s muscular body pressed against yours, and it was something you didn’t expect to need. These unexpected thoughts led to constant wet dreams– Dean pushing you into the bed, ramming his cock into your ass as he praises you for being a good boy. 

“So fucking good�� You’re amazing, baby boy.” Dean groans as he nibbles and kisses your neck as he fucks his cock into your tight ass. His large burly hands roam your body to soothe you from the pain. 

You woke with bad morning wood. 

Everything was going as planned, if anything, faster than Dean anticipated. He could feel you warming up to him and often begging for his attention. You two were hanging out in your room, doing nothing, and the older Winchester felt the time was right.

“Y/n… I feel like this is the right time to tell you. I’ve always loved you ever since we met.” Dean confessed as he got closer. His natural scent filled your nose as his large body was close to yours. The room was turning around, it felt like it was getting hotter as you processed what Dean said. 

You didn’t remember what you said, probably saying you loved him back, but it ended with you and Dean being in a heated kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth as he took the dominant role and pushed you into submission. Feeling your submission, he pulled you onto his lap. 

“D-dean…” You whine as you feel your stepbrother pulling your shirt off. His worn hands roam your body as he touches every crevice. His thick fingers tweaking your nipples, your moans muffled by the kiss. Suddenly, the rest of your clothing was torn off as Dean moved you from his lap to the comfortable bed. 

The cold air touches your cock causing you to moan softly. Looking up at Dean, you could see lust in his eyes and he hastily takes off his clothing, almost tripping. His whole body was only for you to see. He was muscular, with perfect abs and pectorals along with his biceps. Tone thighs as his long cock was erected, acting like a third leg. 

Dean looked down at you, seeing the eagerness in your eyes from seeing his cock. You're shifting comfortably, thrusting your hips upward to get stimulation and spreading your legs further to let Dean get more room. “Look at you… all needy and I barely did anything.” Dean groans as he wraps his hand around your aching cock, giving it slow strokes. Your breath was caught in your throat as you tried to chase the pleasure, thrusting into Dean’s hand for more. Suddenly, a loud slap rang; Dean’s hand leaving a significant handprint. 

Instead of feeling pain, you felt pleasure from being hit. This caused you to thrust more which resulted in Dean slapping your thighs. “Ah? My baby is a fucking masochist? Want me to continue?” Dean purrs as he hears you moaning like a bitch in heat. You nodded desperately, wanting more. He continued his ministration, slapping your thighs until they looked bruised– not that you minded. Your cock was throbbing painfully, coating the older Winchester’s hand with your precum. 

Dean was doing everything to prevent your orgasm: ruining it by pulling away when he feels you were close and squeezing or pinching your cockhead. While it may look painful to others, you were ascending to another reality. Your moans filled the room, and you started begging for more. “P-please… I-I need… god… more. Please! Touch me.” Your whines were music to Dean’s ear as he felt you were ready for the next stage. 

“Darling. Lick my fingers,” Dean says as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. Three thick digits filled your mouth as you lathered them with saliva, slobbering around the digits, tongue swirling. It felt like you were losing air when Dean pulled his fingers out– satisfied by how coated they were. “Good job, darling. Amazing.” the older Winchester says causing you to whine with happiness from his praise. 

Slowly, Dean pushes one finger inside, grinning as he sees you pushing yourself back onto his finger. Your breathing got heavier with only one finger filling you, and flashbacks of your boyfriend filled your vision, but Dean was much better. He was thicker and bigger, speaking about his fingers, you’re nervous about his cock. “Breath, darling. I know you’re eager, but you need to calm down so I stretch you.”  Dean says as he uses his other hand to soothe your thighs. 

Letting a soft “yes” you started relaxing. The tension leaves your body as you feel Dean pressing and pushing two more fingers inside. He was stretching you nicely, reveling in the way you were keen on fucking yourself on his fingers. Dean continued pumping his fingers, loud squelching mixing with your moans and whines. He sees your body squirming and wiggling, trying to get more. 

Dean groans with mild frustration as he tried to find the sweet spot. After wiggling and thrusting his fingers, feeling your hot ass clenching around his digits– “Dean! There! Right there!” 

Bingo

He began abusing your bundle of nerves. The tip of his fingers rammed into your sweet spot as he was milking that spot for your pleasure. Feeling the signals your body was giving, an orgasm, Dean pulled his fingers with a loud pop following. “W-why did you stop?” You whine before Dean gave your ass a harsh slap.

“I want you to cum with my dick inside you,” Dean says as he strokes his cock. Opening your drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. He put a generous amount on his hands before lathering his aching monster cock with the substance. “Please… fucking, please. Fuck me,” you whine as you gave Dean teary eyes. 

Who was Dean to deny his darling his pleasure? 

Dean grins, slowly thrusting his cock into your ass, pausing when he is fully inside. He wants you to adjust, your ex-boyfriend probably never filled you this much. He was right. Just from him entering, you were on cloud nine. You’ve never been filled or stretched this much. Your ass clenching around Dean’s large cock, trying to pull it deeper. “Fucking hell, darlin'. That pathetic man didn’t fill you this much?” Dean groans as he starts rocking his hips, thrusting in, pulling back, and then slamming into you. 

You were already cockdrunk. The perfect feeling of Dean’s large cock filling you up, cockhead ramming into your bundle of nerves. His rough thrusts caused the bed to squeak which mixed with your loud moans and groans, caused your cries for Dean to rougher. “Fucking slut, darlin’. You feel so fucking good. This ass was made for me.” 

His praises sent you to spiral more. You then feel Dean’s worn hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing it but not hard enough to close your airways. Eye contact was made as Dean looked down– you were fucked beyond your comprehension. Drool seeped through the corners of your mouth, and your eyes rolled back as you gripped the bed sheets. “Who owns you, darlin’?” Dean growls as he grips your hips. 

“Y-you! I’m all yours!” you cried as tears rolled down your face from the stimulation. You were desperately trying to keep up with Dean. With your prostate being consistently abused, you were on the verge of prostate orgasm. 

“Atta, boy. You fucking belong to me. No longer than the pathetic excuse of a man. Only me! That’s all you need! Me…Only I get to see you like this.” Dean growls as his thrust gets sloppier. His breathing was getting heavier, your ass was heaven and it was about to send him there too. “Keep speaking. I wanna hear your voice, keep telling me who you belong to.”

You began babbling that you belonged to him repeatedly. Your mind was completely fucked to the ground. The only thing was pleasure surging through your body, your aching cock throbbing and swinging. 

Dean was internally patting himself on the back. You were wrapped around his finger. His dreams throughout the years were finally coming true. He could have the future he had planned since he was eighteen.

With each bucking and rocking of his hips, you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Desperate for your orgasm, you began pushing back against him, attempting to match the rhythm of his thrusts. You were driving each other crazy, your bodies covered in sweat, mixing with the stench of sex filling the room. The sound of skin slapping, the symphony of your moans and his groans, and the bed squeaking; heavenly music that Dean could do every day if you were up for that. 

“So fucking good, darlin’. You’re perfect for me. I don’t care if we’re stepbrothers, you were always more than that since the day I met.” Dean moans as his breathing began to hitch, his large cock throbbing. He began praising you, making sure you would come undone. “I-I’m gonna cum… cum with me, darlin’,” Dean whines as he wraps his hand around your cock to ensure you both cum at the same time. 

Both of your breathings got rugged. Your ass trying to milk Dean’s cock off its thick creamy load, and Dean stroking your aching cock while he rams into your prostate. “I-I’m cumming!” Dean growls as he collapses onto your body, biting your shoulder harshly. Your cock exploded, its thick load coating Dean’s hand and your chest. 

Dean roars as he gives one final thrust, his cock throbbing, balls churning its load before his spend was flooding your velvety walls, painting your insides white. He groans as this is the best orgasm in his life. The ecstasy lasted for a few minutes, Dean licking the wound on your shoulder. The iron taste of blood touched his taste buds as he licked it clean. Now, people will know who you belong to. He was going to make sure of that to everyone. 

“I love you darlin’,” Dean says as he pulls his flaccid cock out, a loud squelch and pop echo as a wave of his thick cum gushes out. He bred you well. The older Winchester lay down and pulled you closer to him, wanting you to nuzzle into his body. 

The sounds of ragged breathing as you both calm down from the intense session. You cuddled into Dean’s larger body and you could feel his cum oozing out your abused hole. “I love you too.” You said as you slowly drifted off to sleep, Dean’s heartbeat comforting you. 

Dean was satisfied with how things turned out. He finally got everything he wanted. 

Your feelings and his went in opposite directions, but you both came back in a Full Circle.

THE END

A/N: Hello, my strawberries! Wow, this is the longest fic I made in a while. I do hope you’ll enjoy this. Very special thanks to my proofreader, @sagethegaywitch

TAGLIST: @spnfanboy777 @zamfam4272 @ghostking4m

[be-xkyy]

Yandere Childhood Friend

Warning: Manipulation, Blood, Self-harm, Delusional Behavior, Two-way kissing, Fluff, Soft Yandere, Disdainful attitude towards others.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

I apologize if this is too long and if he's not that yandere he's a little soft, tell me if you like it or prefer me to make the yanderes darker. 🖤

Yandere childhood best friend who moved into your neighborhood right next to your house with his parents and sister when you were kids.

Yandere childhood best friend who first met you when you and your parents came over to his house to welcome them with homemade apple pie that smelled delicious.

Yandere childhood best friend who kept holding onto his mother's skirt throughout your visit while your parents drank tea and talked with his parents, you smiled at him (he thought you were really pretty... the prettiest girl he'd ever seen) every now and then while you played with his older sister.

Yandere childhood best friend who was dragged by his sister and forced to join in the game, he shyly sat next to you while you played with his sister's dolls, even though he was really shy you two became fast friends and he felt sad when your parents said it was late and you had to leave.

Yandere childhood best friend who you played with in his garden everyday after that first meeting, he was always so sweet and gave you the prettiest flowers from his garden (his mother almost had a heart attack when she saw his garden in a mess) pretty rocks he found and toy rings from his sister (you had to give them back to his sister when she realized they were hers)

Yandere childhood best friend who you had a fake wedding with in the garden with his sister as the officiant of the ceremony you both swore to get married when you're older while putting plastic rings (gift from his sister) on your little ring fingers he blushed a lot and his little heart was beating like crazy when you kissed his cheek.

Yandere childhood best friend who continued to be your friend until now that you both grew up, his sister moved away and you two entered college he's still the sweet and shy boy he always was, the one who in your eyes would never do anything wrong.

Yandere childhood best friend who makes no effort to make friends (he only needs you) and manipulates you when you want to go out on a Saturday night, his voice pathetically sad when he says "Oh.. I thought we were going to watch a movie together like always... but I don't want to ruin your plans, you deserve to go out with normal people and not stay here with a weirdo like me."

Yandere childhood best friend who can't help but feel happy inside when you decide to stay with him, unable to resist his puppy dog ​​eyes and pitiful tone, both of you watch a movie while eating ice cream together on the couch.

Yandere childhood best friend who almost has a panic attack when you tell him you have a boyfriend... he feels his head spinning and his heart aching... did you forget the promise you made when you were kids?... he comes back to himself when he hears your worried voice asking him what's wrong and forces a smile saying "I'm fine... you just took me a little by surprise... but I'm really happy for you"

Yandere childhood best friend who hates your boyfriend when you introduce him to him he thinks your boyfriend is a punk not worthy of you but he keeps his thoughts to himself and is kind... from that moment on you three are almost always together so he does whatever it takes to get your attention... like that time you were cooking at your house and you were really cuddly with your boyfriend he couldn't allow that so he cut his finger with the knife letting out a moan of pain as blood seeped from the wound and you stepped away from your boyfriend and ran to his side in a second.

Yandere childhood best friend who smiles inwardly now as he sits on the couch with his head resting on your stomach as you clean his wound and wrap his finger with gauze letting out mutters that he needs to be more careful when he cooks, he feels happy to see your boyfriend frowning standing in a corner.

Yandere childhood best friend who decides to make a master plan and get rid of your annoying boyfriend once and for all, he texts you to meet him at the cafeteria at lunch and when you agree he moves on to the next part of his plan to find your boyfriend and have him beat him up, he sees your boyfriend sitting at one of the empty tables in a corner and taking a breath he approaches.

Yandere childhood best friend who stands close to your boyfriend who looks at him sideways in distaste but he gets straight to the point and says in a disdainful voice "You're not good enough for her, you're a drug addict and you'll only lead her down the wrong path" or "He just wants to ruin her and make her become like your mother... you know I heard your mother is a drug addict, she's tru-"

Yandere childhood best friend who backs away a little when your boyfriend gets up annoyed and punches him hard in the jaw a crack fills the air and he falls to the ground, your boyfriend climbs on top of him punching him successively the curious ones approach quickly, the taste fills his mouth, his vision distorts and he feels relieved when he hears your worried cry as he approaches to get your boyfriend away from him.

Yandere childhood best friend who is stunned and stands up a little as he watches you yell at your boyfriend for hitting him while he responds agitatedly and tells you the things he said about his mother so he decides to mumble a pitiful "I didn't say anything..." and you believe him because when has he lied to you or done something wrong? You tell your boyfriend that you're sure your best friend wouldn't say such cruel words and when your boyfriend calls you a "stupid naive" you tell him that your relationship is over and your ex-boyfriend walks away upset, you approach him and help him up before taking him to the infirmary.

The university gave him a week to rest and recover, during that whole week you were taking care of him (both of you got pretty close) he was lying in his bed watching TV when you entered his room with a plate full of freshly made sandwiches you left it on his dresser and sat on the mattress next to him you reached out your hand and touched the green bruise on his bruised cheek and asked "How are you feeling Oliver? I hope it's better there's only one day left before we have to go back to school"

Oliver rests his cheek on your hand closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again his eyes meet yours and a smile forms on his cracked lips saying in a warm voice "I'm fine after all I have the best nurse with me... although I think there's something that would make this situation much better" now a smile slides over your lips and you ask in a playful voice "Oh..? And what would be so wonderful?"

"A kiss" Oliver says in a voice a cough and a blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, you let out a soft giggle before bringing your face closer to his, your noses brush and you press your lips with his your hands get into his hair and you pass your tongue over his lips a silent order that makes him part his lips, your tongue enters his wet cavern intertwining your tongue with his when you separate you are both agitated and you ask "Happy?"

"No." Oliver's voice is broken his eyes dilated with pleasure as he grabs you and pushes you onto the bed you gasp surprised by the sudden movement as his lips crash against yours again, Oliver is incredibly happy finally things are following the natural course as they should be, he can already see your life together, your wedding, your house, your babies (that he hopes will look like you) and he already has the wedding ring this time a real one.

[stevestevesstuff]

Drunken Confessions | Theodore Nott x reader

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Feelings are confessed after seeing you flirt with another man.

Warnings: Characters are 18+!, Alcohol and drinking

Word Count: 3k

Please just imagine that the Weasley twins are still in school xD

The party in the Slytherin common room has been planned for months now and there was always something that got in the way of executing it. One time it was a big upcoming test; the other was the detention of a student who took part in planning this event. But today was finally the day. You could feel everyone’s excitement radiating from them, the way they walked and talked was an obvious sign of how happy they were that this party finally took place. It all started in the morning during breakfast where the only topic the other students were talking about was said party. Conversations on what to wear or with who to go filled the Great Hall. As the day carried on, the people walking through the ancient halls of Hogwarts only got more hyped for the upcoming event. We’ve obviously waited long enough for it to happen.

I was no exception. The moment I got up in the morning, all I could think about was that party. With a big smile blasted on my face, I started my morning, and I was convinced that nothing could ruin my good mood. School has been pretty stressful lately so being able to unwind and let loose for an evening was strongly needed. For everyone.

While walking towards our dorm after class, me and my friend Lorelai were talking about what to wear. She was insisting on wearing her tight black mini dress with high heels, though I tried to talk her out of it. The party will take place in the Slytherin common room. In the dungeons. It would be too cold.

But I was unsuccessful with trying to change her mind. In the end she even convinced me to wear my sparkly dark green mini dress to match her “aesthetic”. Fortunately, this dress had sleeves so I wouldn’t totally freeze to death. Plus, there would be plenty of alcohol so after thinking about it I doubted that the cold could even be a problem.

The moment we arrived at our dorm, Lori stormed through the door and headed towards her closet to set out her outfit. I just chuckled and started doing my make-up.

“Soooo….” I looked up from my mirror when I heard Lori talking and gave her a questioning look.

“Mr. Nott did not ask you to go to the party with him, did he?”

Lorelei’s question made me freeze for a moment. She knew about the crush I had on my best friend Theodore Nott. How could she not? This poor girl had to listen to at least one hundred rants from my side on how perfect and nice and gentle and handsome he is.

I shook my head. “No. In fact, he didn’t even talk about the party until I mentioned it once while studying. At first, he didn’t seem really interested in going.”

“Okay, weird. Theodore Nott and not being hyped about a party? Is he okay? Does he need to go to Madam Pomfrey?” Lorelei’s joke made me giggle a bit.

She was right. Theo and his other friends were one of the few people you would always see whenever there was alcohol. So not mentioning such a big event was not like Theo at all.

“I don’t know. I guess he was just stressed out from all the tests and homework we had over the past couple weeks. But anyways, I convinced him to go with us. Or more specifically pick us up today and escort us to the party.”

Lori just looked at me. There must have been a quite obvious look of disappointment on my face as I explained the situation, because all I got as a response was her signature “I pity you” look. I rolled my eyes at her and continued to concentrate on my make up.

But she was right. I was disappointed. Very much that is.

Since I can remember I had a crush on Theo. The moment I first saw him in the Great Hall during the Sorting Ceremony I knew that I would like him. More than just as friends. And the more we did together, the closer we got, my feeling for him just grew. As he became my best friend, I tried to hide my feelings. Or more like lock them away and keep them suppressed as best as possible. Most of the time it worked, but in some unfortunate moments of weakness, my love for him just seemed to burst out of me.

Like that one evening we spent together on the astronomy tour. We were talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. Theo somehow noticed that I was cold and without hesitating, he gave me his sweater. In this moment, I couldn’t hide the blush that was creeping up my face and unfortunately, I also started to stutter. I couldn’t form any coherent sentences anymore and the worst part about this was that Theo noticed immediately and started teasing me, asking if I had a crush on him.

Just thinking about this evening was making me blush again. This stupid crush. I wish I could just get over it.

Time seemed to fly by and neither of us took notice, the only thing reminding us of how late it actually was, was a sudden knock on our door. Lorelei jumped up from the floor, on which she was doing her hair, to open.

“Babes! It’s your boyfriend!”

I rolled my eyes at her comment but smiled slightly. Oh, how I’d love to be able to call him that.

“I hope I do not intrude but it’s getting late ladies. The party is starting in 15 minutes” A small smirk crept on his lips as his eyes found mine.

Merlin, this smirk. It made me weak in the knees. Fortunately for me, I was still seated on the floor.

I took a moment to look at Theo properly. His hair was still slightly wet from an apparent shower he took before getting ready. Damp curls falling on his forehead, the rest of it looking kind of messy. But in a good way. He also chose to wear his black button-up with his sleeves rolled up. (Which made me go crazy but for obvious reasons can’t tell him) and black dress pants. Everything about this man was perfect and the fact that he somehow managed to look even more handsome this evening made my mind wander to places it definitely shouldn’t.

Before my brain got out of control, I nodded and got up from the floor to walk towards him.

“You know? Beauty takes time but I think we’re done here, right Lori?” I said as I gave Theo a small wink and Lorelei a confirming look. She just nodded, but then started running frantically through our dorm, searching for something.

Me and Theo just watched as she literally turned her whole closet upside down until she had found what she was looking for. Her matching black purse.

“Ready! Let’s go!”

A small chuckle escaped my lips as Lori pushed past me and Theo, running out into the hallway. I gave Theo a quick nudge to his side and off we were.

While walking towards the Slytherin common room, Lorelei walking in front of us, Theo leaned in towards me.

“You look breathtaking, Bella.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, his cologne seeping through my senses and I turned away, trying to hide the immense blush that started spreading on my face. The effect this man had on me was unbelievable.

Theo just chuckled lightly, seemingly proud about what he had achieved and continued to lead me and my friend towards the location of the party.

Even before arriving, loud music and laughter could be heard. The excitement was rushing through my body, and I couldn’t wait to dance, drink and just let loose.

The moment the three of us entered the Slytherin common room, Lori was pulled away by a group of Ravenclaws standing by the entrance, so me and Theo continued to head towards the main area.

The music got louder, and the air got thicker and hotter. Even though the party only started around 10 minutes ago, it was in full swing. Some people were standing near two tables which acted as a makeshift bar, others were dancing to the music and some students were just socializing with others from different houses. I took a deep breath in, smelling the alcohol and sweat lingering in the air. The fear of being too cold in my mini dress immediately left my mind as I felt the heat of at least 50 people ingulfing me.

I turned around to look at Theo, but he wasn’t there anymore. Somehow, this man always managed to disappear without a trace. A small frown spread across my face at the absence of my best friend. Was he serious right now? He just left me standing there? Alone? I shook my head, trying to get any negative thoughts out of my brain and made my way over to the bar, intending to get either some shots of fire whiskey or gin.

As I served myself one or two glasses of alcohol, I felt a presence behind me. Before I could turn around to acknowledge said person, I felt a hand on my shoulder. My hopes of it being Theo were immediately crushed as I turned around and was met with a big smile belonging to Fred Weasley.

“Hello gorgeous.” He gave me a smooth wink.

“All by yourself? While you look like that? I consider this a crime.” I chuckled at his playful and faked offended tone.

I chuckled awkwardly, not knowing how to respond. But then I thought to myself, why not? I’m allowed to have a little bit of fun. Fred is nice, he wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t want, so I decided to join in on the flirting.

“Well, hello to you too Weasley. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I jokingly flirted back, obviously checking him out while downing my first glass of fire whiskey.

“Are you ready for the best night of your life, darling?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Fred smirked at my answer, motioning me to drink my second glass of alcohol I held in my hand. I followed his command, grimacing while I felt the cool liquid burn down my throat, earning a laugh from the guy in front of me.

The night continued and I wandered through the common room, catching up with people I haven’t talked to in a while, though I always found myself back at Freds side as his company and lightheaded personality drew me in.

I wasn’t really interested in him, though I really enjoyed the playful flirting and the compliments we threw at each other throughout the night. It made me forget how Theo had just abandoned me without saying anything. The thought alone made my heart ache.

As I downed my eighth or ninth drink (I couldn’t really think straight anymore, let alone count), I found myself surrounded by a group of Gryffindors, including Harry, Hermoine, Ron, Neville and the Weasley twins. We laughed, told jokes and gossiped. I had the time of my life.

Suddenly, Fred took my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor.

“I love this song! Come. Dance with me gorgeous!”

I felt his hands holding my waist, swaying me to the sound of the music. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the melody and beat of the song, hoping I was looking at least a bit presentable while dancing. Fred leaned in closer, seemingly trying to get more physical contact with me.

But before I could reciprocate his actions, someone pulled me away from my dance partner. The alcohol in my system was numbing my senses so before I even realized that I was no longer dancing with Fred, I was being pulled away from the party. My head was spinning and for the first few seconds, I couldn’t even tell who was walking in front of me with my wrist in their hand. I just awkwardly stumbled after the guy who frantically shook his head and swore under his breath.

“Cazzo! What were you thinking?”

I’d recognize this voice anywhere and anytime. Theo.

I opened my mouth to say something, though no words came out. Finally, we stopped, and Theo turned around to look at me, his grip still firm on my wrist.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Weasley? Of all people? You decided to flirt and dance with a Weasley?” The words rolled off Theo’s tongue like venom. He was mad. No. Infuriated.

“I….”

“No! I don’t want any excuses. Of all the people present at this party you chose to not only flirt and dance with another boy, but also, this boy was a Weasley.”

I have never seen Theo this mad, and my mind couldn’t comprehend why.

“What’s the matter with you? Am I not allowed to have some fun? Plus, I’m very capable of deciding with whom I flirt with. That’s my decision to make. Not yours.”

Theo swallowed hard, probably trying to contain himself from shouting. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

He leaned in, coming dangerously close to my face, still holding my wrist.

“Bella don’t fight me on this. You know very well why I have a problem with this situation.”

He was so close; I could feel his breath on my face and smell his cologne. A blush crept onto my face at the closeness of his body. God. Why was he so hot?

I looked at him, trying to stand my ground.

“Unfortunately, no. I do not know why you have such a big problem with me flirting with Fred. Plus, what else was I supposed to do? Lori was having fun with her friends, and you were nowhere to be found. You left me standing there. Alone. So, I found myself someone to spend the evening with.”

Theo suddenly let go of my hand, putting some distance between us. He raised his hands, brushing them through his already messy hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“By Merlin….” The clear frustration in his voice made it obvious that he had enough of this conversation.

“Do you like him?” Theo suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Do you like him?” This time, his voice was firmer, demanding an answer.

I looked at him, my eyes meeting his and for a moment, I could see something behind his eyes that I had never seen before. Desperation, mixed with a little bit of hope.

“I…no. I don’t like him like that.”

“Then why would you spend the whole evening flirting with him?”

“Because I wanted to, okay? You are not my boyfriend, you can’t dec- “

Before I could even finish my sentence, Theo closed the distance between us, reaching up with his hands to cup my cheeks. This action lets a small yelp escape my lips.

“Wha- “

My head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or Theo’s closeness. I was sure that if his body wasn’t pressed so tightly to mine, I would have sunk to the ground with how weak my knees were at that moment. His hands gently caressed my cheeks, his right thumb slowly stroking it. The way he looked at me with desperation, hope and…longing was too much for me. I even stopped breathing for a second. I noticed Theo’s eyes wandering down towards my lips where they lingered for a second before they found my eyes again.

“What…what if I want to be just that?” Theo asked quietly while seemingly staring into my soul.

“What do you mean?”

“What if I want to be your boyfriend?”

The moment these words left Theos lips, my breath hitched, and my mind went blank. What did he just say? My head started spinning even more and I felt a blush rise on my face.

“I like you, cara mia. I’ve always liked you, but I was too much of a fool to tell you. I was scared of ruining our friendship but seeing you today, flirting with another man, that was too much for me. I couldn’t handle you being in the arms of anyone but me.” These words left his lips in a tone so gentle, I would have never believed they came from Theo if I wasn’t experiencing it first handed.

“I….”

“You don’t have to say anything. You probably won’t even remember what I’m telling you right now in the morning. I guess I won’t either. But I needed to get this out of me. I needed you to know how I felt about you.”

Suddenly, I felt a rush of confidence wandering through my body. I raised my hands to mirror Theos previous actions, cupped his cheeks and pulled his face towards mine. Our lips met and I felt like I could explode. The feeling of his lips was better than I could have ever imagined. They were soft and the slight taste of alcohol and cigarettes on them made this kiss so much more intoxicating.

His hands left my cheeks, wandering down my body until they settled on my waist, pulling me even closer into him. The kiss got more and more messy, teeth were clashing, and lips were bitten.

After what felt like an eternity, I had to catch my breath. As I pulled away, my hands still caressing his cheeks and his hands on my waist, a small smile spread across my lips as I tried to breath properly. As I looked up at Theo, the biggest smile I had ever seen on him was painted on his face.

“I love you, amore.” He said, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you too, darling.”

His hands left my waist, removing mine from his cheeks and gently intertwining our fingers. He gently pulled me behind me, walking in the direction of his dorm.

“So, I guess it’s official now, Bella. No more flirting with Weasley. Or any other man for that matter.” His joke only earned a small laugh from me, already imagining what might happen in his dorm.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Can we talk about a Pro-Hero Award ceremony / gala event and how it would be such a chaotic event, because it’s the only time of the year where all of the Pro-Heroes and their (un)willing darlings come out together in public. 

Bakugo is 100% sure to spend the entire evening with a locked face and strong arm around his darling’s waist, not letting her out of his sight for one moment, regardless of how bad it looks.

As soon as the ceremony is officially over, Bakugo is dragging his darling back home, one hand tightly gripping her wrist while his other hand is busy handling the two awards he managed to win. 

Shoto and his darling are wearing matching outfits and are probably one of the chillest couples in the event. They don’t argue or yell, and they spend most of the time intertwined in the dance floor as Shoto stares at her sweetly obsessed the whole time.

He also receives a very surprising congratulating cheek kiss when he wins an award, and his thank-you speech consists of 99% of him praising the support of his darling (she’s now warming up to him and he’s very happy with it). 

Deku is a whole other story. He’s so stressed about the ordeal that he also ends up stressing his darling (RIP her mental health, seriously). At one point, he’s completely hunched over his darling in a corner, attempting to feed her some cake even though she vehemently refuses and, but he keeps insisting and insisting and insisting.

He also won’t stop blabbering and info dumping every piece of use(less)ful information as if she actually cares about the Pro Heroes that are present at the gala. 

I also believe that - on a certain point - she snapped at Izuku, tired and exhausted from his annoying behavior, and some of the yandere's - Endeavour, Hawks, Bakugo - threw Izuku a condescending glare, cause none of them would ever allow their darling to direspect them like that, much less in public.

All Might and his darling are definitely one of the happiest couples in the room, seated at a table with other Pro-Heroes and he’s proudly boasting his darling and how sweet and amazing she is, while she shyly clings to his buffy bicep, hiding her face behind the strong muscle.

Sitting at a nearby table is Endeavour, upsettingly huffing and puffing because his darling isn’t yet at the right stage of obedience and submission that he had hoped to achieve and in result, he had no other option other than leaving her at home. The basement, to be specific. Not to mention that her rebellious attitude soured his mood earlier that day, which led to a nasty backhand he gave her before leaving the house in frustration.

And now the No.2 is pissed cause her deplorable behavior is ruining his meticulously built reputation and image. Endeavour is certainly going to take his frustration on her once he gets back home, that’s for sure. 

Seated next to him is Hawks, wearing a smug smirk that fuel’s up as Endeavour’s irritation grows throughout the night. Keigo is definitely the type to perform excessively sweet and annoying PDA: kissing her, hugging, holding hands, feeding his darling, fussing over little details about her hair and make-up.

He’s so overwhelmingly affectionate (and loud) that his darling has to hide in the ladies room every 15 minutes, otherwise it gets too unbearable for her mentally sanity. But needless to say that there’s always a discreet red feather following her all the time. 

Obviously, Eraserhead didn't bother putting on an appearance. 

Whose darling do you think have the potential to cause some drama?

[helaintoloki]

the other Hargreeves siblings being absolutely teary-eyed on the day of y/n and Five’s wedding. they like to think of her as an adopted member of the family, because she’s gone through so much with them, gotten so close to death in multiple occasions while trying to save them. after everything, they never thought to see her live out the happy life she deserve, much less getting married to Five.

a/n: i am a sucker for found family tropes and wedding pieces so this was fun for me to write

warnings: none i think ? mostly fluff

Your stomach feels as if it’s tied into a million knots, and you can’t bring yourself to even touch the plate of fruit Klaus had fetched for you to nibble on as you got ready for the big day. Allison works diligently to perfect your look despite her insistence that you should have just let her hire a professional to get the job done, but you were adamant about keeping everything as simple as possible. Neither you nor Five wanted some big extravagant mess when it came to your ceremony, and if it had been up to you both you would have just settled for a courthouse marriage, but his family wouldn’t have it. You were finally becoming an official Hargreeves, and they deemed it necessary to celebrate with a proper wedding and reception despite the fact that there really would only be about ten guests at most.

You met Five in the apocalyptic ruins of the world while scavenging for food. Despite everyone you knew and cared about perishing in the gale of fire that blanketed the earth, you had miraculously survived. Call it pure luck for being at the right place at the right time, but you had been searching for a flashlight in your underground basement when the moon had been struck, and the reinforced steel structure of the room had kept you from suffering the same fate as everyone around you.

Neither of you trusted each other in the beginning, but you both were smart enough to realize that sticking together was necessary for your survival, and so you put aside your differences to travel the apocalyptic wasteland together. That’s not to say there weren’t times when you got on each others nerves or wanted to strangle him with your bare hands, but with time your partnership evolved into an actual friendship, and perhaps it could have evolved into more if not for the constant distractions that arose during your fight for survival.

Allison accidentally poking your eye with a mascara wand interrupts your moment of reminiscing, and she merely gives you an apologetic smile when you shoot her a look of annoyance in return.

“I told you we should have hired a professional,” she reminds you matter of factly only for you to lightly swat her hand away.

“And I told you I wanted to go down to the courthouse and pick up a sheet cake at the grocery store,” you counter with a raised brow. Sensing defeat, Allison relents with a small sigh and takes a step back to look at her masterpiece.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just our family doesn’t get to do these sorts of things very often, and it’s not every day I get a new sister.”

Your shoulders slump guilty at her admission, and you find yourself now feeling less combative against her than you initially were. Though you mentally are in your 50’s and no longer see a need to have a big wedding to marry a man you’ve known for basically your whole life, you still physically look like a young bride, so it’s only natural for Allison and the rest of Five’s siblings to want to treat you as such. From what Five has told you along with the stories that have been recounted in your presence, their lives have always been less than normal. You of all people can relate to that- growing up in an apocalypse, becoming a glorified secretary for a time-ordinance bureau while your only friend is out on assignments, risking your life to save the world, ending multiple apocalypses. The list could go on forever. They’re only trying to experience normal family milestones, so who are you to get in the way of that.

“No, I’m sorry,” you relent with a remorseful sigh. “I know you’re just trying to be nice, and I’m grateful for how quickly you and your siblings have welcomed me into the family despite how unconventional this all is. I really appreciate it.”

“Good, I’m glad you see it my way,” Allison teases playfully before finishing up the final touches on her masterpiece.

“Knock, knock,” Klaus singsongs from outside your dressing room before letting himself in. Proudly holding up the plastic wrap bag from its hanger, he announces, “Here I am with the dress, and as promised, nothing happened to it under my watch.”

“Thank you, Klaus,” you smile gratefully only for him to return the gesture with an affectionate pinch of your cheek.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m just so excited to finally have a little sister!”

“You know I’m technically older than you right?” You retort with a raised brow only for him to press a finger to your lips.

“Shh, don’t ruin this for me,” he gently corrects you before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You don’t miss the way his eyes begin to water at the sight of you with your hair and makeup done, but you’re kind enough not to point it out. Klaus had been the easiest of Five’s siblings to warm up to, always treating you like one of his own and roping you into his mischief despite your fiancé’s protests. The Seance couldn’t even count on one hand how many times you had been there to lend a shoulder for him to cry on when his addiction became too much or offer a supportive hand when his siblings had been less than eager to do so. He adored you, and he could nearly burst with pride at finally being able to call himself your brother.

“Alright, we have thirty minutes left to get you into that dress and down that isle,” Allison announces with a determined clap of her hands before snatching the dress from Klaus. “Are you ready to officially become Mrs. Hargreeves?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you announce with a resigned sigh before immediately being pulled every which way by the two siblings to finish your ensamble.

You can’t wait to get this over with.

~~~

“You nervous?” Viktor whispers with a gentle nudge to Five’s side. Quiet chatter drifts through the air as the handful of guests that are present make conversation to pass the time before the ceremony begins. Neither of you exactly have big families; Five has only ever had his siblings, and your family isn’t exactly supportive of your choice of groom. It’s an intimate affair, but you both prefer it that way.

“Hardly,” he scoffs indignantly, though his need to readjust his tie for the millionth time says otherwise. Five knows that this probably should have happened sooner and promoting you from his partner to his wife has been long overdue. He was honestly surprised you had said yes when he’d finally bit the bullet and asked the question. He loved you, cared for you in a way he never thought possible and in a way that honestly wasn’t quite like him. But you were different, and he hadn’t risked it all trying to end multiple apocalypses just to not marry you once the world was finally safe.

“I’m glad you’re happy, we all are,” his brother notes with a kind smile. “She’s good for you, and she’ll be a good addition to the family.”

Five can’t argue with that. It honestly pains him to think about just how many times you’ve thrown your own life on the line for not just him but his siblings as well. You’ve been there for them even when it wasn’t your responsibility, when they technically weren’t your family yet, even when Five himself wasn’t the best brother to them all. While Five could at times be brash or crude, you were patient and understanding, and this balance helped make their team stronger. You’d make a fine Hargreeves; he wouldn’t be standing here today if that weren’t the case.

Behind the wooden double doors you nervously readjust your veil as you wait for your cue to enter the room. Diego holds your bouquet patiently on your left while Luther fluffs out the skirt of your dress for you on your right. Having no real family present for your big day, you were left without anyone to give you away to your new husband. Diego and Luther had both been eager to throw themselves at the chance to be at your side down the aisle, constantly at each other’s necks arguing over who deserved the right more. Of course, as the bride it was you who got the final say, and the choice couldn’t have been more obvious. You picked them both.

Both men had been put through a lot by your fiancé, from having to carry his drunken form out of a library to dealing with his fits of rage at their inability to meet his deadlines for important tasks, but they had always been kind to you despite the unorthodox nature of your relationship with their brother. Luther had taken several bullets for you before, and Diego hadn’t shied away from being a supportive shoulder to cry on whenever you and Five couldn’t see eye-to-eye. It would feel wrong not to have them both by your side, and they were honored.

“You scared?” Diego questions after noticing your tight grip on his bicep when the music begins. He has to hold back a wince from the way your manicured nails dig into his arm and distracts himself by handing you your bouquet.

“A little,” you answer honestly, harshly swallowing down your nerves when Luther opens the doors for you to walk through.

“You’ve got this,” Diego encourages after pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “If anyone is brave enough to marry my brother, it’s you.”

“Brave or maybe a little insane,” Luther adds under his breath.

You can’t help the small huff of air that pushes past your lips in response to his quip, but you’re given no time to respond as your soon-to-be brother-in-laws escort you to your awaiting husband.

No one can deny how absolutely breath taking you look in your elegantly simple wedding gown, your smile nervous as you make your way towards Five who looks so handsome in his perfectly tailored suit. All day you’ve wanted nothing more than to see him, but now that you’re here you find yourself full of nerves and anxiety.

Luther and Diego give you away at the end of the isle (not without sternly warning Five to take good care of their new sister), and you finally find yourself face-to-face with the man you’ve loved for years.

“You ready for this?” He whispers under his breath as Viktor begins his officiant speech, subtly reaching for your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“This won’t be the worst thing we’ve done together,” you note cheekily with a shrug as you hide your smile behind your bouquet, and Five can’t argue with that.

Though his siblings have been better at showing their excitement for this day than you or Five combined, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy to finally be marrying the boy who had been by your side through thick and thin, good and bad, and life and death. Perhaps your love story was a bit unconventional, but unconventionality is a Hargreeves speciality.

You’re going to fit right in.

[greengoblinswifey]

Nanny Knows Best II

pairing— Nicholas Chavez x bimbo!nanny!reader

summary— Your ‘relationship’ with your boss has progressed, leading to jealousy from his wife and him inviting you to an award ceremony. After the ceremony, you celebrate in the best way possible with the dam finally breaking after close calls and stolen moments,

warnings— age gap(reader is 19, nicholas is aged up to be 40), infidelity, virgin!reader, lots of flirting, ass grabbing and groping, fluff, slight angst, jealousy, praise kink, fingering, finger sucking, cunnilingus, oral(m), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, L bomb.

a/n— Last part(?) but requests for bimbo!nanny!reader x nicholas are open <3 Please note, this is just fanfiction and I don’t condone cheating of any kind irl. w.c— 7.4k

Part I

Nicholas had kept his word—he didn’t act weird like he did after the kiss. He was as composed as ever, stealing long kisses when no one was looking, his hands sometimes wandering to your ass and boobs, groping you like he couldn’t get enough, leaving breathless before pulling away like nothing happened. But he hadn’t gone further than that, and you knew why.

Victoria had been pissed lately. At first, it was the time he spent with you, but even when he tried to fuck her—unfortunately or even spend time with her, she accused him of thinking about you. She wasn’t wrong, though.

You weren’t mad that you hadn’t gone all the way yet. If anything, you enjoyed dragging things out, watching Nicholas struggle to keep his composure. You teased him relentlessly, brushing up against him when you passed, wearing skirts that made his gaze linger too long on your ass, pressing a finger to his lips when he looked like he might lose control.

You had him wrapped around your finger, and you both knew it.

One afternoon, you were in the kitchen making a bottle for Madison and grabbing juice for Alexander. You hummed to yourself, swaying slightly as you reached for the top shelf. You didn’t hear Nicholas step in until his hands were on your waist, pulling you back against him.

“You like torturing me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured against your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

You let out a breathy laugh, arching to feel how hard he was behind you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said sweetly, though the way you pushed against him said otherwise.

Nicholas exhaled sharply, his grip tightening, his lips dragging down your neck. “You drive me insane,” he muttered.

Before you could answer, small footsteps echoed down the hall. You barely had time to push him away before Alexander ran into the kitchen, his little hands reaching for his juice. Nicholas took a step back, adjusting his shirt as if nothing had happened, while you handed Alexander his drink with an innocent smile.

Close call. Again. Kids always talked and you didn’t need to scar him or have him blabber to his mother about what he saw.

Later that evening, when Victoria was out for one of her shoots—or whatever she did when she wasn’t home, you and Nicholas found yourselves alone in the living room. The kids were distracted in their playroom, giving you a rare moment of privacy. You stretched lazily on the couch, your skirt slipping up just enough to show the soft curve of your thigh and peeking to show your thong barely covering your pussy. Nicholas sat across from you, gripping the armrest so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Something wrong?” you asked, your voice filled with false innocence.

Nicholas exhaled, shaking his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Do I?” you giggled.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was one second away from crossing the room and ruining you. But before he could even try, Madison’s cries echoed from upstairs.

You smirked, slipping off the couch and brushing past him on your way to the playroom. As you passed, you leaned in just enough to whisper, “Better luck next time, Mr. Chavez.”

You didn’t have to turn around to know he was watching you walk away, frustration rolling off him.

God, you loved this game.

The house was quieter than usual today, with Nicholas and the kids out. You had a moment to relax when you heard the sound of Victoria’s heels clicking against the floor. You didn’t even need to turn around to know she was heading your way. When she spoke, her voice was laced with irritation.

“You think you can keep up this little act?” she said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes narrowed in your direction. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

You took a breath, turning around slowly with a small, innocent smile. “What do you mean?” you asked, genuinely curious but with a subtle hint of challenge in your tone.

Her gaze flickered over you, clearly looking for any sign of weakness. “Don’t think I don’t see what’s going on between you and Nicholas. The way you act, the way you look at him, its obvious you want my husband.”

You laughed lightly, a little too sweetly for her liking. “Look, Victoria, I’m just here to do my job. If you’ve got a problem with it, I suggest we talk to Nicholas about it. I’m sure he doesn’t mind the extra help.”

She scoffed, clearly not buying it. “You think he doesn’t notice? I know you’ve got some kind of charm working on him. But don’t think you can fool me. I see right through you.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer. “Oh, I don’t need to fool anyone. And I’m not dumb, just because I like to have—fun.” You let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, “I graduated university early with a degree that you don’t have, not that it’s any of your business. And with honors, might I add.”

Victoria’s lips pressed together as she looked at you, clearly stunned. For a moment, she was silent, her eyes searching yours, but you were already a step ahead.

“You may think you know everything, but I’ve got a lot more going on than you realize,” you said with a sly grin. “I’m not just the dumb, pretty face you think you can dismiss.”

Before she could say anything else, you turned away, walking past her and leaving the tension hanging in the air. You weren’t about to waste any more of your time on her. What you would use your time to do though, was fuck her husband and get a one up over her. She’d see who really ran things.

As you moved to the kitchen, you thought about how she was probably stewing over the conversation but there wasn’t anything she could do. Nicholas was your boss, she couldn’t fire you. But then, just as you grabbed a glass of water, you heard the door open, and Nicholas stepped in, looking a little worn out from the time with the kids.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. You returned the smile, and for a moment, the air felt electric between you two.

He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on your ass as he passed you. You caught a hint of his aftershave, the familiar scent that always seemed to draw you in. Your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your ear. “You look gorgeous today,” he murmured, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure, but the closeness was intoxicating. You could feel the heat between you two intensifying. “You're just saying that to distract me,” you teased softly.

Nicholas chuckled, and for a brief moment, his hands lingered at your ass, his hands caressing the plump flesh. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt of warmth straight to your core. “Maybe I am,” he said his eyes locking onto yours. “But does it work?”

Just as you were about to speak, you heard the sound of footsteps, and in that instant, you both quickly pulled apart, trying to act casual as the kids walked into the room. But the energy between you and Nicholas hadn't dissipated, it lingered in the air and all you wanted to do was pounce on him.

Later, with the kids busy playing, you found yourself alone with him again. You could feel him near, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and it was hard not to let your guard slip. You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “We’ll have to be more careful next time,” you whispered, knowing the game was far from over.

Nicholas seemed to hesitate for a second, his breath hitching slightly as he met your gaze. “I can't promise I'll be able to stay away,” he murmured. “I need you so fucking bad, sweetheart.”

Just as you both leaned in, about to lose yourselves in another heated kiss, the sound of a door opening caused you to pull away quickly, your heart racing as Victoria’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“The kids are looking for their snacks,” she said, her tone laced with something that you couldn’t quite place—annoyance? Maybe. She glanced over at you and Nicholas, her eyes narrowing.

You smiled sweetly, trying to act innocent. “I’ll be right there,” you said, offering her a wave as you stood up. You glanced back at Nicholas one more time before heading towards the kitchen, your mind already thinking about the next close call. But that next close call thought was shattered.

Something was off, and Nicholas could feel it. It wasn’t anything obvious—just small shifts in your usual demeanor. No lingering glances, no soft smiles, no lighthearted giggles whenever he teased you. You were polite but distant, your usual bubbly energy dulled to something restrained.

And it had everything to do with this morning.

Victoria had always been affectionate with him in front of you—little touches here and there, arms wrapped around his waist, fingers tracing over his jaw, but today had been different. This time, she had kissed him, pressing her lips to his with a kind of ease that came with being his wife. She had pushed herself against him, fingers lacing in his hair, and she had looked right at you as she did it.

Like she was reminding you exactly where you stood.

It shouldn’t have bothered you. Nicholas wasn’t yours. No matter how much he said he wanted you, no matter how many times he found an excuse to keep you close, he still went into bed with her at the end of the day.

But it stung.

And now, hours later, you were still in your own head about it, stirring the sauce on the stove without really paying attention. You didn’t even hear Nicholas come in until you felt his presence behind you, his hand going over your hip before stopping himself.

“Are you mad at me, sweetheart?” His voice was low.

You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the pot. “No.”

He sighed, stepping closer. “You’ve been acting weird all day. Did I do something?”

“No,” you repeated, softer this time.

He didn’t buy it. You felt him reach for you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. And then, before you could step away, he leaned in, lips parting, about to kiss you. But you turned your head at the last second, letting his lips land against your cheek instead.

He froze. You felt the way his breath hitched, the way his hand lingered against your jaw like he was trying to figure out what just happened. Slowly, he pulled back, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Okay, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice more urgent now.

“It’s nothing, really. I should finish dinner before the kids get home,” you said as you exhaled sharply.

“No,” he said immediately, stepping in front of you. “Talk to me, honey.”

You hesitated. It wasn’t like you to tell him how you felt, not when you assumed this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. But the way he was looking at you now, searching your face like he genuinely cared, made it impossible to brush him off.

You sighed. “This morning. With her.”

His expression flickered, realization dawning. He pressed his lips together, nodding like he understood exactly what you meant. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “I should’ve—” He exhaled. “I didn’t think. I didn’t want to make you feel like, like you don’t matter to me.”

Your chest tightened. “I know I don’t have a right to be upset. She’s your wife.”

“But you mean something to me, too,” he said quickly, reaching for you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. “You mean so much to me.”

Your resolve cracked. The way he was looking at you, the warmth in his touch, the sincerity in his voice, it was too much.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You melted against him, letting him wrap his arms around you, inhaling the familiar scent of him.

“How?” you mumbled against his chest, your voice small.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This weekend.”

“What?”

“Victoria’s flying out with the kids for that wedding,” he reminded you. “You’re supposed to go, but she made it very clear she’d rather struggle alone than have you there.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh at that. “She really hates me.”

“She’s jealous,” he corrected, smirking. “Not that I blame her.”

Your cheeks warmed, but before you could respond, he continued.

“I have the Golden Globes Friday, but tomorrow, I’m taking you shopping,” he said, smoothing his hands down your hips. “Whatever you want. All weekend, you’re mine.”

“Really?” you asked, a slow, giddy smile spread across your face.

He nodded. “Really.”

You bit your lip, your usual bubbly energy returning as you swayed on your heels. “I do love shopping.”

“I know you do.”

And just like that, the jealousy and frustration from earlier faded into something warm and sweet. Because maybe, for just a little while, you could pretend that you were his. And maybe, for just a little while, he could pretend too.

The next morning, Nicholas kept his promise. You had expected something simple, maybe a quick stop at a store before he had to rush off to film. But no, he was serious about spoiling you. He had a car pick you up, a sleek black one with tinted windows, and when you slid inside, he was already waiting, his arm stretched across the back of the seat like he had all the time in the world for you.

“You ready?” he asked, smirking as his eyes dragged over your outfit. “You look pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach fluttered at the compliment. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nice,” he said simply, nodding to the driver.

You tried not to overthink what somewhere nice meant. You tried not to wonder if he had done this before, taken Victoria shopping, picked out things for her, spoiled her the way he was about to spoil you.

But as soon as you arrived, stepping into the first high end designer store where the sales associates practically tripped over themselves to greet Nicholas, all those thoughts faded.

Because this? This was for you.

And he made that clear.

“What about this?” you asked, holding up a red dress, expecting the usual nod of approval.

But Nicholas shook his head. “Not you.”

You blinked. “Not me?”

He took the dress from your hands, replacing it with another—softer, sexier, something that hugged you in all the right places.

“This,” he murmured, running his thumb over the fabric. “This is you.”

Your breath caught.

And it continued like that—him choosing things for you, watching you try them on, leaning back in his seat as he took you in. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel.

But it was dangerous too.

Because at the end of the day, he still wasn’t yours.

And as much as he wanted you to feel special, this wasn’t real.

Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

Nicholas had certainly followed through on every word, after, he made sure to take you from one designer store to another, never once flinching at the price tags. Gucci, Chanel, Cartier—if you wanted it, it was yours. He helped you pick out the perfect dress for the ceremony, something elegant but undeniably you, pairing it with Louboutin heels that made your legs look even longer. You had even restocked your makeup with Charlotte Tilbury, layering yourself in luxury.

But the best part? He let you indulge in your favorites. Juicy Couture, where you picked out sets in every color. Victoria’s Secret, where you didn’t hold back, tossing lace and silk into your shopping bags without a second thought.

Nicholas didn’t complain once. He only watched, entertained and amused, as you treated yourself like the princess he claimed you were. It wasn’t until you were in the dressing room, slipping into a plush pink robe, that things took a turn.

You were adjusting the belt in front of the mirror when the lock clicked behind you.

Your breath caught.

Nicholas.

He had slipped inside, shutting the door behind him, his presence instantly making the small space feel even smaller. His gaze dragged over you like he had all the time in the world to admire you.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured.

“Mr. Chavez, you’re not supposed to be in here.”

His lips twitched. “You’re right.” He stepped closer, pressing a hand to the curve of your waist, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Because, being in here makes me wanna fuck you right here, right now.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face him, eyes wide. “Mr. Cha—”

“I know,” he cut in, his fingers tracing the belt of your robe, his voice soft but insistent. “I can’t. But I can do something else.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he dropped to his knees. Your stomach flipped. “Nicholas—”

“Shh,” he murmured, smoothing his hands over your thighs. His eyes lifted to yours, dark. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your breath hitched.

Outside, the store was filled with people—other shoppers, sales associates, people who had no idea what was happening behind the locked door.

You shouldn’t. But when Nicholas pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, looking up at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, your resolve crumbled.

And as his hands slowly spread your pussy open, as he whispered soft praises against you, you realized something dangerous.

For the first time all day, it wasn’t the diamonds or designer labels that made you feel spoiled.

It was him.

You pressed a hand to the wall, the other gripping the belt of your robe like an anchor, your knees threatening to give out as Nicholas ravished your pussy with his mouth.

He had always been good with words, but now? Now he spoke in a way that made your head spin—soft groans and whispered praises against your core, each one sinking into you.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured. “So perfect, baby.”

You whimpered, biting down on your lip to stay quiet, but the pleasure was overwhelming. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as you trembled against him, your body betraying you, giving in to everything he was pulling from you.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair. “We—we can’t—”

His lips curved against you, amusement in his next words. “Then be quiet.”

But how could you? How could you when he was so relentless, when every stroke of his tongue made your breath hitch, made heat coil in your stomach until you were seconds away from breaking apart?

And then—a knock.

Your heart jumped into your throat. “Everything okay in there?” A voice—feminine and concerned. An employee.

Nicholas didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down, dragging his hands up your legs, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth like he wanted to see you panic, like he loved the idea of you barely holding it together.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle a whimper as you forced out a breathy, “Y-yeah! Everything’s totally fine!”

The pause outside the door felt endless.

Then, finally—“Alright, just let me know if you need anything.”

Footsteps faded, and you sighed in relief, only to gasp as Nicholas gave you one last, devastating pass of his tongue.

That was it. That was all it took.

Your whole body tensed, shaking as the pleasure crashed over you, silent but all consuming. Nicholas held you through it, his hands steady, his mouth working you through the aftershocks until you were barely standing.

Only then did he finally pull away, his breath heavy, his lips slick and shining as he looked up at you with that signature smirk. His chin was soaked. And the worst part? He knew exactly what he had done to you.

“You should see yourself right now,” he murmured, dragging his thumb over his lips. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your legs still felt weak, your head foggy, but couldn’t speak.

Nicholas carried your bags, all of them like it was nothing, his arms stacked high with luxury shopping bags as you both stepped outside. The flash of cameras caught your attention, a few paparazzi managing to snap some photos before security ushered them back.

You didn’t think much of it. You were too dazed, still floating from earlier, your legs still wobbly in your heels.

Nicholas opened the black car door for you, helping you in before tossing the bags into the trunk. Once he slid in beside you, he didn’t stop looking at you.

That smug, self satisfied look. “Stop it,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“Stop what?” he smirked.

“Staring at me like that,” you pouted, crossing your arms. “It’s weird.”

His grin widened. “But I made you cum, didn’t I?”

Your whole body burned. “Mr. Chavez!” You smacked his arm before burying your face in his chest, muffling your groan of embarrassment.

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “You’re too cute.”

You huffed, refusing to look at him. But the way he was holding you, stroking circles against your hip, made it impossible to be truly mad.

By the time you reached the mansion, you had regained some of your composure. Nicholas let you breathe, retreating to his own space while you packed away your new things.

You still couldn’t believe it. A rich, married man. Your rich, married man. It was wrong. And yet, here you were.

You were admiring a new diamond bracelet in the mirror when he appeared in your doorway, leaning against the frame with that same smirk.

“Pretty,” he murmured. “But not as pretty as you.”

“You’re such a flirt,” you said as you turned, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.

He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist. “Only for you, baby.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, tilting your chin up before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow and deep, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into it, hands sliding up his muscular chest, fingers curling into his shirt. He kissed you harder, guiding you back toward the bed, his hands slipping under your crop top, pushing it aside. You gasped as his lips trailed down your neck, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter by the second.

Clothes came off, piece by piece, heat building until you were naked beneath him, your body arching against his. And then—he stopped.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “Nicholas?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Not like this,” he murmured.

You pouted. “But—”

He kissed you again, soft but firm. “I want your first time to be special,” he said, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Not rushed.”

Your heart was aching at how genuine he sounded. “But,” he smirked, “I can still make you feel good.”

Before you could respond, his hand slipped between your thighs, drawing out a gasp as he touched your pussy that was already dripping wet for him.

He took his time, watching every reaction, whispering sweet praises, coaxing you to the edge.

His finger thrusted inside your pussy, curling and finding your g spot as you moaned freely beneath him. Finally you didn’t have to worry about being caught.

He look at you, his eyes moving from your lips to your pussy gushing for him. “Those sweet moans. God, I can’t get enough of you.”

You pressed your forehead against his, grinding against his hand so his palm calm in contact with your clit.

“Good girl, now it’s time to cum for me,” he said, voice low and rough.

Your pussy clenched around him and you cried out, a release so intense it made you squirt all over his fingers. He held you close as you trembled, pressing kisses to your forehead.

By the time you came down, trembling and breathless, he was holding you close, stroking your back.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed, melting into him, eyes fluttering shut as you fell into slumber.

The next morning came quicker than expected. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow across the room. You stirred slightly, still tangled in the sheets with the events of the previous night in your mind. Nicholas had slept in your bed and it was a wonder how he managed to keep his dick in his pants.

The Golden Globes was that night, and he was up early, making sure everything was in place. You, however, took your time getting ready, ensuring every detail of how you looked was perfect.

Just as you were slipping into your dress, a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Are you ready?” Nicholas called.

You took one last glance in the mirror before stepping forward and opening the door. Nicholas stopped breathing.

His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch, the dress hugging your figure perfectly, the way your makeup highlighted your best features, your hair perfectly curled, the effortless way you carried yourself.

“Sweetheart,” he exhaled. “You look—” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

You gave him a twirl, the fabric of your dress catching the light just right. “You like it?”

“Like it?” He scoffed, stepping closer, his hand grazing your waist before he caught himself. “Sweetheart, I love it. You look absolutely breathtaking.”

His words made your body warm, but before you could reply, he held out his arm. “Shall we?”

With a small smile, you looped your arm through his, and together, you stepped out, ready for the night.

The moment you arrived at the Golden Globes, all eyes were on you. The flashes of cameras were overwhelming and reporters and photographers called out Nicholas’ name. But then, to your surprise, they started calling you too.

You instinctively held onto Nicholas’ arm, nerves creeping in. He felt it immediately, his hand covering yours, reassuringly.

“You’re doing great,” he murmured. “Just give them that beautiful smile.”

You did.

Together, you posed for pictures, his hand resting securely at your waist. But then, a few photographers started asking for solo shots. You hesitated, glancing at Nicholas.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged softly.

Taking a breath, you stepped forward. The photographers gushed over you, snapping pictures from every angle. Compliments came from all angles, how elegant you looked, how cute you and Nicholas were together. It was overwhelming, but Nicholas never took his eyes off you, standing just a step away.

Meanwhile, he was pulled into an interview, and of course, the questions about you came. “And who is this stunning young woman with you tonight?"

He laughed, his gaze flickering to you as you clutched his arm, still smiling.

“A very special woman,” he said vaguely. “She’s been my biggest supporter.”

Before they could press further, the ceremony began.

The night went on but nothing compared to the moment Nicholas’ name was announced as the winner for Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama.

The second it echoed through the hall, you both shot to your feet. His first instinct was to turn to you, his hands finding your waist, his face so close, his lips brushed yours before he remembered. His wife was watching.

He stopped himself just in time, but you didn’t care. You threw your arms around him instead, jumping up and down, screaming in excitement.

“You did it!” you squealed. “Mr. Chavez, you won!”

He hugged you tightly, holding onto you for a minute longer before he finally made his way to the stage. The applause was loud as he accepted his Golden Globe, his expression a mix of awe and gratitude.

“Wow,” he exhaled into the mic. “This—this means everything.”

He thanked his team, the cast, his family, his kids. And then—

“I want to thank a special woman,” he said, his voice steady. His eyes flickered to you.

You stilled.

“Yeah, you know who you are,” he continued, lips twitching into the smallest smile. “You were the one who pushed me to audition for this film. You told me the role was mine before I even believed it myself. Without you, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. You’re my biggest supporter.”

Your heart clenched.

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you held them back, shaking your head in disbelief, hands clasped over your mouth.

The moment he stepped off stage, you were in his arms again, holding on tight.

As the ceremony wrapped up, you leaned into Nicholas, your hand slipping into his. “We should totally celebrate,” you whispered.

He smirked, holding up his award. “The best celebration?” he murmured, leaning closer, “would be with you in my arms.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

The car ride home was quiet and very intimate. Nicholas held his award in one hand, his other resting over yours. At one point, he lifted the Golden Globe, pressing a kiss to it before turning to you, brushing his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss, reaching to straddle him, fingers threading through his hair, but the car stopped. You had arrived home.

He exhaled a laugh, his hands slipping to your waist as you both pulled away, breathless. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Hand in hand, you stepped into the mansion like you were his wife. He had been gushing over you all night, and now was no different. He stopped you in the grand hallway, taking a moment just to admire you. “You have no idea how perfect you are, how perfect you look,” he murmured.

Then, he smirked. “I have a surprise for you.”

Curious, you followed him up the stairs, only to freeze at the sight. The entire staircase was lined with rose petals and pink flowers, leading up to his bedroom.

“Nicholas,” you gasped.

He pushed the door open, revealing the room filled with candlelight. Roses were scattered everywhere, the soft scent filling the air.

You turned to him, stunned. “Is this for me?”

His expression softened. “Of course, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hands finding your waist. “You deserve it.”

Before you could say another word, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bed.

“You’re unreal,” he whispered against your skin. “So beautiful. Flawless.”

His lips brushed your forehead, your cheek, your jaw and then finally, your lips.

And in that moment, you knew—he was in love.

Nicholas backed you toward the bed, his gaze dark. His hands were gentle as they trailed down your arms, fingertips going over your skin as if you were something precious.

“You have me at your mercy,” he murmured, voice low.

Your breath hitched as the backs of your knees met the edge of the mattress, and before you could fully process it, he was kneeling before you, his large hands smoothing over your thighs. His touch was savoring every inch of you, his lips pressing kisses along the path his fingers traced.

His hands found the hem of your dress, gathering it slowly, sliding it up your legs as his lips followed. A kiss at your knee, another at the inside of your thigh, each one sending a shiver through you. He held you firmly, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “You’re perfect. So beautiful, so sweet, my perfect girl.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a desperate attempt to hold onto something as his lips and touch gave you overwhelming pleasure. He hummed in approval, his hands spreading your legs, squeezing gently, savoring the feeling of you beneath him. His kisses against your pussy turned hungrier, his voice a quiet worship between them.

“So goddamn wet for me, you taste so good.”

You arched under his devotion as his tongue explored you and he took his time, as if memorizing you, drawing out every moan with precision that came with being with an older man. Every brush of his lips, every press of his thumb against your clit built, heightening the pleasure until you were trembling, breathless, gasping his name.

He didn’t stop. He soothed you through it, whispering how good you were, how proud he was, how no one else could ever make him feel the way you did. His hands caressed you, his touch never leaving you, even as you came down from the high he had so effortlessly brought you to.

When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were soaked with your juices. He tilted his head up, watching you with satisfaction, his lips ghosting over your inner thigh before pressing a lingering kiss to your clit. Then, rising slowly, he brushed his lips against your temple, then your cheek, before finally pressing a deep, slow kiss to your lips.

“Did that feel good, sweetheart?” he murmured against your mouth.

You could only nod, still lost in his touch.

He smiled, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Good. Because I’d do it again and again if it meant seeing you like this.”

Nicholas held your gaze, his fingers replacing his mouth in your pussy, working slow thrusts as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“Have to get this tight pussy ready for me, sweetheart,” he murmured.

His free hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking gently as his lips trailed over your chest. His finger curled inside your wetness as his thumb rubbed rough, but gentle circles on your throbbing clit, “You’re so good for me,” he praised, watching every reaction, every tremble. “My pretty girl.”

Your fingers dug into his arms, breath hitching as warmth built deep inside you. “Nicholas—” you whimpered, your body arching into his touch.

“That’s it, my love,” he coaxed, kissing you deeply, his hand never faltering. “Cum for me, I’ve got you.”

You could barely hold back, gripping his shoulders as your body responded to the deep strokes of his fingers, finally reaching an orgasm that had you gasping as you squirted all over his fingers. He knew exactly how to make you feel good.

“Taste yourself,” he murmured. You held on to his hand, sucking your juices off his fingers before you took them in deeper.

“So obedient,” he praising, rubbing his thumb on your lip. “What a fucking mouth.”

“And I know how to use it,” you said, finally speaking.

“Are you sure you want to, sweetheart? Tonight’s about you,” he retorted.

“Tonight’s about you too, we’re also celebrating, remember,” you pouted and that did it for him.

His gaze was fixed on you, as he shrugged his pants and the rest of his suit off. Your fingers brushed over him in all his glory, and his breath caught when you made contact. He was hard, long and full of girth, feeling weighty in your hand. The tip was pretty, pink and leaking, pre cum oozing and slowly dripping down his shaft. As you looked up at him through your lashes, you could tell by the look in his eyes how badly he wanted this, and that only made you want him more.

God, you were almost jealous. Victoria used to get that dick every night. But then your jealousy turned into pride—it was yours now. She was stupid to be neglecting him.

His hands wrapped in your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

As you took him into your mouth, each motion drew out quiet sounds from him. You took him deeper and deeper, swirling your tongue as you did and using your hands to rub his bare thighs then to caress his balls.

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured. “Everything about you is perfect.”

His praises made your pussy throb and you started deep throating him, using as much tongue as you could to make it sloppy just the way you knew older men liked it.

“Sweetheart, if you keep taking me like that—fuck, I’m gonna cum, you’re so good at this.”

You moaned around his cock, then took it out of your mouth to spit on it. Sticking your tongue out, you looked up at him as you slapped his cock against it and he moaned in response, his head tipping back.

He gently placed a hand on your cheek, caressing as your movements caused salvia and his pre cum to drip down your chin. You were a sight for sore eyes and he was ready to see you swallow his cum.

“H-holy fucking shit baby, I’m gonna cum down that throat,” he moaned, his voice breaking.

You took him as deep as you could, then gliding your mouth and your tongue across his shaft as you felt his warm cum shoot down your throat. You swallowed every drop and smiled up at him.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pulling you up to him, “I’m so proud of you.”

Nicholas stood in front of you, his hands gentle but firm as he carefully took off your dress, his gaze never straying from you. His eyes were filled with admiration, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t want to take off the beautiful dress you’d been wearing all night but you somehow looked even more beautiful underneath.

“You're absolutely stunning,” he whispered, his voice low and sincere. “I can’t even begin to explain how gorgeous you are.”

You felt your cheeks heat at his words, but his tone was so comforting and warm that any nervousness quickly faded. His hands were tender as they glided over your skin, slowly removing your undergarments from your body, piece by piece.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment, checking if you were still comfortable.

You nodded, feeling a sense of trust as he continued. “Yes, I'm okay.”

Nicholas took a deep breath, visibly trying to steady himself. He reached out and held your hand, squeezing it gently as he spoke again.

“I want you to know that this is all about you,” he said softly. “And I’m here with you every step of the way, okay? If you need a moment, we can stop. Just tell me.”

You nodded again, your heart fluttering, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort with his reassurances.

“This might be a bit uncomfortable at first and once again, if you want me to stop, let me know.”

He lined his raw, hard cock with your entrance, his movements slow and thoughtful, making sure everything was gentle. He kept his promise, holding your hand tightly and keeping his focus entirely on you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. “You feel like Heaven.”

His thrusts stilled when he felt your barrier, and he slowly leaned down, your hand remaining in his as he kissed you softly. He pushed against the barrier and you bit down on your lip, the discomfort unmistakable but soon fading into immense pleasure. Your hot married boss was taking your virginity.

He rubbed your clit as he moved inside you, his thick cock only managing to go half way in, yet it felt so good. His muscles flexed as he was above you, his abs glistening under the candlelight.

He continued to check in with you, asking if you were okay, his affection unwavering. You felt safe, cherished, and respected as he made sure to only move forward when you gave him the go ahead each time he checked if you were fine.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You're taking me so well,” he murmured. “I knew you would.” His words and steady thrusts built you up and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. Your pussy clenched around his cock even tighter, your moans growing louder.

“I know baby, I know. Cum for me, cum on my cock,” he encouraged.

He pressed his forehead against yours, and your fingers dug deep into his back, leaving a trail of fire as an intense orgasm washed over you. Your legs shook and you cried out as you came, his touch comforting and grounding you through it all.

He caressed your cheek, moaning as a rush of liquid soaked his cock. “That’s it. Good girl.”

When your breathing slowed, he gently flipped you onto your stomach, his touch delicate as he continued thrusting slowly, tracing kisses along your shoulders and down your back. “You’re so beautiful, from this angle.”

His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements on his cock as the sensitivity made you feel the tension build again, his whispered words filling you with warmth and reassurance.

“Rub your clit for me, sweetheart” he panted, cock pulsing inside you.

Doing as you were told, you rubbed your clit, jolts of pleasure shooting through you. His thrusts increased but still gentle and each time he pulled out leaving only the tip in, his cock was covered in your cream and juices.

“Cum again for me, baby. Cum with me while I cum inside this perfect pussy,” he breathed. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

With one final thrust, he groaned, a low and guttural sound—almost primal spilling inside you as you clenched down on his cock and squirted. You milked him of all he had, ropes of his hot cum lodged deep inside you. He stilled, tracing his fingers along your spine. “You have the most perfect ass,” he teased, making you smile as you both caught your breath.

The warmth of Nicholas’ embrace putting you on your back made reality slowly settle around. He held you close, his lips pressing against your forehead. His breath was still a little uneven, but his focus was entirely on you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, tilting your chin so he could meet your gaze. His eyes were full of concern. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No,” you whispered. “That was amazing.”

Something in his expression softened even more and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb on your cheek. “You were perfect,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m honored you trusted me with this.”

The exhaustion was beginning to settle deep in your bones and Nicholas noticed immediately, shifting to sit up, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You’re tired, I’ll take care of you.”

Before you could protest, he had already lifted you into his arms, carrying you through the candlelit room and into the bathroom. The scent of roses was still in the air, mixing with the faint cherry aroma of the bath bomb he poured into the warm water. Steam came around you both as he stepped into the tub, settling in first before guiding you between his legs, your back resting against his chest.

His arms circled around your waist, holding you securely as the warmth of the water enveloped you. His lips brushed against your shoulder, trailing soft kisses up to your neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. “And you did so good for me. I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

A deep warmth spread through your chest and you leaned into him, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as he ran a washcloth over your skin with delicate care.

By the time he had you wrapped in a plush towel and carried you back to bed, sleep was already pulling at you. He slipped in beside you, tucking the covers over both of you before pulling you into his arms once more. His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek, his fingers tracing light patterns along your spine.

“You mean the world to me,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your hair.

As sleep began to take you under, you barely registered his next words, soft, almost like a breath against your skin.

“I love you.”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @emluvsuxo @hopefully-saturn @iamsebastiansstan @chavezhoe @jennieonline @girldisrupted @nicholaschavezslut69

[violet-eng]

Neuvillette and his arranged marriage with fem!reader - NSFW

Summary: so... Furina is such a gossipy and she's kinda boring so she wants Neuvillette to marry to some random girl that can be a challenge for him... would he like this traveler?

TW: smut. Has a plot. Kinda angst? p i v. Breeding kink, praising. Unprotected sex with this daddy judge. I think that's all... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE JUST KEEP SCROLLING.

🎨: @zlidbhypy/@zljdbhypy

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

The judge had lived long enough to be carried away by appearances, his image in society was expected of a man with his profession, with his knowledge and his stature. However, in the eyes of Lady Furina, as much a lover of spectacle and scandal as possible, the great judge needed a slightly more modern image to present to the citizens of Fontaine-and perhaps to bring a little gossip as well.

The idea had consumed her so much that at the moment she met you she could think of nothing else but arranging an engagement with Monsieur Neuvillette. You were the living image of what she was looking for: a young woman of society, a foreigner with a wide knowledge of the vast continent and above all, ambitious. 

There was a flash that Lady Furina highlighted in you, a furious soul difficult to tame, a challenge for the great judge. How fun it would be to see that: the distinguished gentleman try to control the disdain of his future wife, lover of saucers with spicy mixes, so friendly to those with vision Pyro... almost as contrary to him.

You met Neuvillette a day before the wedding, when Lady Furina had given him the wonderful news that he would marry you. He could not refuse, not the Archon, and she was aware of that-that made the matter more fun.

Neuvillette looked serene during the announcement, did not give the Archon the joy of a grimace of disgust... of course not, he was not like that...

On the wedding day rain fell so much as to drown the neighboring nations, tormenting those present of the ceremony. Monsieur Neuvillette was outside the compound, admiring the horizon, yearning for the freedom he possessed years before. To this had its existence been reduced? To be a puppet for the entertainment of the Archon? To tie himself for life to a woman he didn’t even know? If only he could return to his old form... spread his wings and get out of that place...

"The rain is wonderful," you exclaimed beside him, tearing from his chest an impression he managed to hide. "I hope the tears of the Hydro dragon are of happiness for the wedding and not of misery".

"They’re just legends, stories for children," he said, though an inch of him, deep down, was delighted by the idea that unlike the rest of Fontaine’s inhabitants, you didn’t dislike the rain... the one he was provoking...

"All legends have some truth in them," you whispered, giving him a sincere smile.

The ceremony had been short because of the rain, yet your happiness was overflowing. Your dress was drenched, your hair was alike... Everything was ruined, Lady Furina kept saying it, and yet you seemed to be living the best day of your life. Neuvillette could not look away from you at any moment, you had bewitched him, a single phrase had sufficed to achieve that...

The room was spacious, exquisitely decorated, illuminated to depth, the details and finishes seemed measured with hard effort... very much like the great judge. You had been unwise to ask if you had separate rooms, that had upset him for a moment... You certainly didn’t seem to have the same scruples as him.

You opened the window of the room, resting your elbows on the frame and sucking the dew that the rain brought with it. Neuvillette stood still in his place, looking at your figure, analyzing every detail of your silhouette, trying to perceive your essence, your energy... There was definitely something special about you.

"Can I come out?" you asked, were you asking permission?

"You must not ask for my consent to be free in the place" actually, he did not think it proper from you to ask permission for something… he perceived you from the first instant as a free being in tune with nature.

"It’s my way of asking you to go out with me to enjoy the rain," you said, approaching him and extending your hand. 

The thick drops of water hit the roofs, the fountain of the courtyard was about to overflow with water, the surface covered of the leaves that the wind had brought with it. You got rid of your coat and your shoes, went into the fountain and sat in the middle, above the water level, your legs dipping, you picked up the dress on your knees. The fabric was thin, almost transparent now that you were soaked and uncovered. Neuvillette scanned the surroundings, hoping no one would look at you, you were his wife... was he jealous? No, it was a simple sense of duty now that he was a married man...

"Come closer" you said from your position, pointing your finger at the place in front of you. Neuvillette, almost hypnotized by your loud attitude, dragged his feet towards your spot, sitting across from you, likewise, his legs underwater. The familiarity of the rain on the current that had formed under his feet was pleasant, almost satisfactory, so much so that it incited him to move his hands on the surface of the water, forming figures that allowed his hydro vision. You smiled at the small spectacle he displayed for you, admiring the sublime movement of his hands, the way his fingers flexed on the leaves and the drops of water ran down his hands.

You leaned toward him, taking him by surprise, joining your lips with his. He did not turn away, but, on the contrary, he dropped his hand against your neck, drawing you closer to him, tasting the nectar of your lips and your tongue.

"I want something to be clear" you dictated separating yourself from him, "we’ll have children... not because the charlatan Archon wants it for her entertainment, no... we will have children because we both want it, it was clear?".

For all the Archons... those words coming out of your mouth, pure poison, so hostile to the Archon, calling her in a way that he could never, with your face framed by your soaked locks and your lips swollen by the kiss... There was nothing he could want but a woman like you. 

The matter of your affinity for the falling flood, added to your folly of calling the archon such a derogatory name... you were an interesting, exceptional creature whose behavior went beyond his control and knowledge. You were a challenge... his challenge... and his enthusiasm grew in his chest as well as in his pants.

You had both returned to the room in sultry form, between kisses and gasps, getting rid of your clothes on the way. He cornered you on the wall of the entrance, his hand in fist resting above your head, his forehead against yours, the other hand holding your chin, joining his eyes. Neuvillette’s chest rose strongly, seeking air, bewildered by the growing ecstasy, the desire among you that was born. 

Taking you by the waist, he turned you against the wall, your face crashing against the cold marble and your palms resting at your sides. You felt his breathing on your neck, his chest against your back, his hands sliding over your curves, right to your hips, over your panties. You let out a soft moan as you felt the fabric slip under your legs and fall to your ankles.

"Monsieur..." you whispered trembling as the cold pouring through the room brushed your thighs and bare ass. 

"You don’t look as bold as you did a few minutes ago," he whispered... low, almost growling, you swore he was smiling, you sensed it in his voice.

"It’s... just... ah~" you cut the phrase in half when you felt him slip into you, separating your folds, forcing you to suck it. Your hands in fist, your hips rising, trying to avoid its passage inside you, your shoulders gathering at the sensation that flooded your center, your sex. 

"Monsieur~" you moaned, your forehead wet against the marble, your hands scratching the wall looking for something to soothe the burning between your legs, the feeling of its length between your damp walls.

You didn’t think the judge would be so vocal. When he slipped into you, he grunted, so pleasantly your legs seemed to melt. You felt the breath of his groan in your ear, your name coming from his lips.

"So soft" he whispered, resting his hands on yours, his forehead on your shoulder, "so tight..." continued advancing, rising to the bottom, "so mine"...

Neuvillette fucked you against that wall as if he was in heat-and perhaps he was-as if you were going to escape at any time from his grip, though you couldn’t. 

The moans and gasps were embarrassing, thanks to the rain they did not cross the walls, the sound of wet skin crashing during each penetration was burning, lustful. The words that came out of the judge’s mouth every time you girded your limb were a sea of incongruities, just as the phrases that your mouth dropped when he caressed your clitoris, that little lump had become his favorite toy.

The onslaught was strong, your breasts pounding against the wall every time he burst into you, rubbing against your delicate interior, which seemed made for him.

"You take me so well," he groaned, as he continued his beat against you, your breasts rising and falling down the wall. You were trapped between the wall and the monster of pleasure the judge had become.

"I will fill you with my seed, I swear..." he gasped again, his voice raspy, with flashes of hunger and lust.

"Neuvillette~" you let out a high-pitched moan, had touched your point, that felt so fucking good, the way he arched to hit that gummy dot on your cervix. He kept going, and kept going, you didn’t want him to stop. Fuck, he was so good at it, who’d say a gentleman of his countenance could be taking you like an animal in heat.

He kept hitting that delicious spot inside you, stroking your sensitive organ, one, two... three times, you suddenly felt a knot forming in your belly.

"Oh my~... don’t stop Neuvillette~..." you begged, eyes closed, lips separated by groans. The sound of his gasps flooding your eardrum... you both were close…

His onslaught lost rhythm, the intensity was almost unbearable, he came out one last time to get into you, fucking you so hard that you felt your orgasm burst and you let out a scream. He would not take long to reach his climax similarly, unloading all his seed inside you

The bed was warm, you needed it after what happened... Neuvillette lay beside you, caressing your cheek, watching the way you fell asleep. 

He looked out the window, the rain had stopped. He was completely happy... so long ago that he did not feel the fullness he had at the time... 

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, curling your head in his chest, feeling the warmth of your gentle breathing. He closed his eyes, falling asleep beside you, yearning to tell you one day about his identity... someday…

[distant--shadow]

The stairs at the end of the path are steep, and though Imogen assumes they were laid a lot more recently than the ruins she is making her way to, they are still exposed to the harsher weathers of the coast; edges eroded and some steps fully missing, carried out of place by localised miniature landslides.

She makes her best effort to avoid a broken ankle - whilst her mind is admittedly distracted by thoughts of Ms Laudna lifting her skirts to traverse the incline. Maybe she had come here with the Lord? Maybe he was able to carry her on his back with ease and she would strike him like a horse and they would laugh and the people of the village would think of how queer they were as wealthy people to even care of ruins –

maybe they’d worry that they were making plans for a new mansion.

She can hear the waves hitting the side of the cliff, the stone exposed to the waters not covered in grass and gorse like the land’s approach, and she hopes that the stairs do not wrap around to greet the elements - though she does not believe this would be the method Ms Laudna would chose to dispose of her -

she receives too much enjoyment from working with her own hands.

Saddles and reins.

Familiarity in feedback.

She is only slightly winded when she crests the top of the cliff; the breeze noticeably closer to a wind at such a height, the heavy seeded heads of the tall grasses bowing away from the blue horizon in regimented movements as though a marching ceremonial guard or dancers at a grand ballet.

The ruins are a bit more intact than she had anticipated. Ruined, for sure, between the collapsed walls and missing roofs, window panes long gone if there were ever to have been any glass to begin with, there is no evidence left of lead lining to suggest it.

But there is enough there to imagine what was; blueprints of sandstone bordering off rooms and buttressing supporting structure for most of which’s weight it has long been relieved.

Its floorplan lies in line with the coast; Imogen can just about picture the approach from inland, the grand driveway where carriages and small armies approached, the high turrets marking either end overlooking the village and much further into the horizons,

the view from the sleeping quarters, unobstructed and blue and infinite,

looking up from the gardens to the Lady at her bedroom window.

The scale is massive, each stone far larger on approach than she had expected. She can imagine the impressive and imposing silhouette it would have once lorded over the outlook of the cliff, literally elevated above all who approach and live in its shadow.

~

drew a self indulgent imogen caus i felt like it

[dyns33]

Family's dog

The Solomons family is composed of three members and it was time to focus on the tiniest.

A dog's life wasn't an easy life.

Born on the street, hungry, sleeping in the cold, he had been happy the first time he had a master.

Some might say he wasn't a good master. He sometimes forgot to feed him, he didn't let him inside when it rained, considering that the kennel he shared with the others was enough and he forced him to fight when he didn't want to.

But as a dog, he was grateful.

Still, it was a shock to be adopted by his new master.

"Hello, love." the man had said when he saw him, putting his cane behind him and leaning down with difficulty to pat his head. "No, it's not a toy, and it's not a weapon either. I don't want to hit you, you don't hit nice boys. Don't you, Mr. Collins, nice boys like this don't deserve to be hit ?"

"Yes, Mr. Solomons, certainly."

"Certainly, innit ? Then why does he have marks all over him ?"

"The other dogs, sir. For the fights."

"Ah, yes, those barbaric spectacles. In our fair country, what a disgrace. Poor boy, is this where you sleep ? Mr. Collins, it takes no heart to make such a brave dog sleep in such a place."

"I can bring him inside if you…"

"Nah. He's coming with me, on top of what you owe me."

Mr. Solomons gave him a new home. A real home you could say, where he could walk everywhere, with food and water every day, gentle pats on the head, a basket for him, the right to climb on the sofa and the bed, and a name. Cyril.

Well, as for the bed, Cyril wasn't sure he understood. His master growled as soon as he jumped up near him, mumbling 'no', a word he knew well, but then he put his arm around him and fell asleep without trying to get him down or punish him.

Everything was wonderful with Mr. Alfie Solomons.

He also took him outside with him. At first, Cyril was afraid that it would make him fight or abandon him somewhere, but no. Holding him with a leash and swearing obscenities while asking him to slow down because of his back, they only went around the neighborhood or on the beach before going back.

There was the car too.

"Yes, stick your head out, it'll be better for you and me."

"Woof !"

"Isn't that right, love ?"

There were times when his master would have clearly wanted Cyril to be more aggressive. He would sometimes growl when strangers approached in a threatening manner, which was often enough to scare them off.

But most of the time, he would sit next to him, salivating, simply happy to be with his master.

"Cyril, I'm going to ask you to be a perfect gentleman, okay ? A perfect gentleman, even nicer than usual. If there's a bite, a bark, anything that ruins it, I should get angry, and I don't want to get angry."

The request was strange. Tilting his head to the side, Cyril watched as Mister Solomons got ready for an important meeting, as he often did. Except he looked nervous.

Not nervous like he could be, mumbling nonsense or complaining about his back, really nervous. His master didn't seem to be afraid of anything though.

For the first time since he had arrived in his new home, his master brought someone home in the evening.

Y/N Shelby, he introduced her with great ceremony. They obviously knew each other well, because the young woman ignored Alfie's long, wacky tirades to crouch down in front of Cyril with a huge smile, offering her hand for him to sniff.

A lot of humans didn't do that. They touched him without permission or kept their distance.

This pleased Cyril very much, who thanked her by licking her fingers, which made her laugh. A very pretty sound, which enchanted him as it seemed to enchant Mr. Solomons.

Faced with his acceptance, Y/N began by scratching his head, ears, neck, and he ended up on his back, in complete ecstasy, while she took care of his belly.

"You were right, a real menace. A terror. Alfie, I'm so scared of your dog." she joked at the sight.

"I must say he seems to adore you, treacle. It's a good thing, I wasn't joking when I said he was difficult, he only listens to me."

Mr. Solomons called him 'traitor' while continuing to treat him kindly. Strange, because Cyril did exactly what he asked, obeying his new mistress perfectly, probably even better than him. But Mr. Solomons often said strange things without thinking them.

It was the first time that there was a woman in Cyril's life, and in addition to seeming important to Alfie, she treated him with great affection and respect. She also took very good care of the one she called 'her husband'.

So it was very quickly obvious that she was the most important person, the leader of the pack. The one who had to be made proud and protected first.

"He only listens to you, huh ?"

"What can I say, damn woman ? Lovely witch. You seduced my dog, just like you seduced me. There's no other explanation, otherwise why would we both be staring sadly at the door until you come home, then following you everywhere ? One day, we'll fight for your attention, and you know what's worse ? He'll win. He's already stealing my place in the bed and you're not saying anything."

"I don't see you punishing him much either."

"I'm a criminal, love, not a monster."

It wasn't even true that he was stealing Mr. Solomons' place. Cyril couldn't sleep until both his masters were present, curled up against each other with him at the foot of the bed. He only stayed close to Y/N to keep her company until Alfie arrived.

If he didn't mean it when he called him a 'traitor' because he was nice to his wife, Cyril heard real indignation in his voice when he accompanied them to see Y/N's family.

Lots of children, and many men he didn't know, who seemed quite hostile to Alfie while welcoming him with smiles and gifts. How could you not love them ?

"Your dog is much better educated than you, Mr. Solomons."

"Ah yes, dear Thomas, they say that dogs are a reflection of the life their masters could have had, which explains why this one is so pampered."

"Say right away that I mistreat you."

"Absolutely, treacle. Every day. You check that I have done my work, that I eat, that I have my back cushion, it is real daily torture. Hoy ! Cyril, no !"

"He's playing with the kids, everything's fine."

"That little fool doesn't know his strength, Thomas. Don't come blaming me when he makes your boy fall."

Cyril didn't make the boy fall, nor any of the toddlers who were running with him, making all the Shelbys present laugh, while his master was still mumbling under his breath.

He didn't seem interested in being congratulated for having trained his dog so well.

With her sweet smile, Y/N whistled for him to come to her, which he immediately did while wagging his tail.

"Good boy. It's time to go home now. Alfie, stop sulking, come on."

"I'm not sulking, treacle. I whistled for him three times without him listening to me, everything is perfectly normal."

"You love it when he obeys me so well, like you love it when I give you orders."

"In your dreams, crazy woman."

"Alfie, in the car."

"… I'm not going to walk home from Birmingham, that doesn't mean I obey you !"

Cyril barked happily to support his mistress, because he saw Mr. Solomons obeying his wife perfectly all the time, pretending to be offended while staring at her with sad puppy eyes waiting for a caress in return.

Not a reflection of the life he could have had, but of the life he had, Cyril thanked his master for picking him up at the corner of the road when everything was going badly, walking a bit together before having the chance to be both cuddled by Y/N.

"Anyway, I know you prefer him to me." Alfie grumbled, lying on his back, while his wife scratched the dog's head, settled between them.

"He doesn't complain all the time."

"I don't complain all the time, love. If I did complain all the time, you would have smothered me in my sleep a long time ago."

"Hmm. Never mind. I taught him a new trick."

"Let me guess. Steal the cane ? Hide the rum ?"

"Cyril. Please, living room."

Reluctant but not wanting to disappoint his mistress, Cyril jumped out of bed to wait on the couch, as his mistress had taught him, until she called him again so he could come back.

According to her, it would be a nice gift rather than forcing his 'daddy' to get up all the time to let him out and then open the door for him when he wanted a special cuddle.

"A special cuddle. Treacle, he's a dog, very intelligent no doubt, but he's not like kids with their sensitive ears, you can say fuc…"

"Alfie. I can tell him to come back if you want, and send you to the sofa instead of him."

"No, I want my special cuddle. I almost didn't tease Arthur during the party, I deserve it."

It wasn't the mating season, so Cyril didn't understand why his masters and especially Alfie were active so often in the year, but they were happy, and as promised they always called him when they were done so that he could join them, so they forgave their oddities.

It really wasn't easy being a dog, but Cyril Solomons didn't complain.

[sloanesallow]

tell me

Sebastian doesn't want to be married, but he's always been known to make the best of a difficult situation. (A little different than what I usually write, as this is technically an unnamed MC...though it's still very Sloane coded.) Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Unnamed) Tags: MDNI, NSFW! Sexual content, arranged marriage trope, first time, stupid sexy Sebastian. 2.7k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

There was only one semi-formal introduction between Sebastian and his betrothed after the engagement was announced, awkward glances exchanged as their families bartered over the marriage contract and dowry. She is a stranger to him, and will likely remain one—it’s rare for these types of arrangements to blossom into anything meaningful. As much as he wants to resist and run, Sebastian honors his familial duty and begrudgingly agrees, observing the way his wife-to-be holds back tears.

Poor girl.

The wedding ceremony isn’t any better.

Sebastian spends the night before in a haze of firewhiskey and denial, blacking out with the hope he’ll wake up and it’ll be a bad dream. Instead, he wakes up with a splitting migraine that worsens his already sour expression. The only reason he decides not to drink more is because of her, the anxiety and fear radiating off his bride as they exchange meaningless vows in front of a handful of guests. They are in this charade together, for better or worse—best not to alienate his only potential ally by making a drunken fool of himself.

He sits through the reception with disinterest, worried more about her fiddling with the golden ring on her finger, and how she hasn’t touched her food or wine. Sebastian isn’t stupid—he knows she is terrified of the inevitable when they retire to the wedding suite with the expectation of consummation. There’s very little he can do to calm her nerves, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try.

As soon as the door to their bedroom closes, he sighs, tugging loose his collar before crossing over to the decanter on the nearby table. He glances at her—his wife—watching as she stands in the middle of the room, fidgeting like a trapped animal. Sebastian fills a shallow glass with whiskey, the amber liquid sloshing as he brings the offering to her. She flinches, even as she shakily takes the drink without meeting his gaze.

“You’re trembling,” he states the obvious, studying the curve of her lips as she takes a small sip. “No need to be so damn frightened. I’m not going to devour you.”

She gasps, snapping a hand to her mouth as the whiskey nearly sputters from her lips. Sebastian would find her reaction humorous if the circumstances were different. He removes the glass from her grasp, setting it down before looking at her again. She’s a delicate thing, petite and fair, in stark contrast to his looming presence.

“Husbands take what they want,” she whispers as if it is fact.

Sebastian frowns, wondering what other falsehoods she’s been brainwashed into believing.

“Look at me,” he says, gently lifting her chin with the softest touch. Her eyes are wide and glossy and beautiful. “I’m not a monster. I would never take what isn’t offered.”

She sucks in a breath, gaze darting across his face as if she is seeing him for the first time. He’s being honest—if she were to refuse him, he wouldn’t force her—but they both know failing to consummate the marriage will lead to ruin.

“We’re strangers,” she says in the same quiet voice as before.

“Strangers,” Sebastian repeats, pulling his hand away but remaining close as if to test if she will dart away at the first chance. For a moment, he weighs his options. “It doesn’t have to stay that way.”

Her expression shifts, ever so subtly into curiosity as he takes a step back. He keeps his movements slow, not wanting to startle her as he starts to undress, unclasping the heavy belt around his waist. It falls away, along with the heavy fabric of his wedding kilt, a pile on the floor that he soon adds his boots and socks to. Sebastian smirks when he notices his blushing bride’s eyes scanning his physique, fixating on the hem of his linen shirt that rests against his thigh.

“Trust takes time to build, darling,” he croons, watching the quickening rise and fall of her chest. He gestures to her wedding dress. “Let me help you.”

She hesitates before turning around, a visible shiver running through her when he brushes his fingers against the nape of her neck. He toys with the ringlets that have escaped her elaborate updo, plucking free iron pins without a care for where they land in the room. Only when her hair cascades across her shoulders does he continue, tracing the path of her spine down to the fastenings that bind her. He deftly loosens them, listening to her soft exhale when the fabric slips away from her form. Beneath is a simple chemise that does little to hide her femininity.

“T—thank you,” she whispers and Sebastian is struck with the wicked thought of what she’d sound like moaning his name.

He lets out a quiet, mirthless chuckle. “Don’t thank me yet.”

Her skin prickles with goosebumps beneath his touch as he caresses her shoulders. The softness of her is distracting, causing a stirring inside that he did not entirely anticipate. He would be an idiot to not find her attractive, but this is not a fling or passing fancy he can easily bed without thought—this pretty little creature is his wife.

Sebastian continues his gentle massage, thumbs working free a knot of tension between her shoulder blades. It’s a simple but intimate gesture, one that he hopes settles her nerves. He leans in, catching the way her eyes flutter closed and her lips part with a soft sigh. “How does that feel?” he asks, breath fanning across her neck. “Better?”

She barely nods, still trembling as he slides his hands down her arms before resting them on her waist. He feels the curve of her body beneath the chemise, fingers flexing against the cotton before loosening his grip. The heat in his gut grows. Sebastian is well aware of the complexity of the situation and knows perfectly well that this night—their first as husband and wife—will set the tone for the rest of their marriage.

“Tell me what you want,” he encourages, daring to ghost his lips across her skin.

“I—” she falters, breath hitching. “I don’t want…” she trails, and he listens carefully to her tone. She isn’t refusing him. “I don’t know,” she clarifies, turning her head to look at him. “I’ve never—”

Sebastian arches his brow at her confession, though he isn’t shocked by her virginity. Most brides of her upbringing are. What surprises him is the idea that she’s never explored her own body, provoking a devilish curiosity.

“Never?” he repeats in a husky drawl. His fingers twitch at her sides, teasing at what he could teach her. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, darling.”

“And there’s no need to rush,” he murmurs, this time pressing a soft kiss beneath her ear. She shivers and he grins. “We have all night…and every night after that to…explore.”

Sebastian is fully aware of the effect he’s having on her, feeling the way she tenses and yet leans into him, caught between societal expectations and the natural yearnings of her body. But he doesn’t want her to feel obligated—no—he wants her to want him. He makes his offer, “I can show you, if you’d like. Help you discover all the things that bring you pleasure.”

He moves one hand up to cradle her chin again, deciphering the shimmer of her eyes. She lets out a shaky breath. “Y—yes. Please.”

Please.

The corner of his mouth twitches up at her tentative consent.

“Good girl.”

He spins her around to face him, drinking in her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes darken at his words. It’s thrilling, but as hungry as Sebastian is for her, he reminds himself to savor the moment, if only for her sake. He cups her cheek, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Breathe, love,” he instructs in a whisper before kissing her. It’s soft—she’s soft—and he tugs her closer, hands tightening around her waist just enough to elicit a gasp. He takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth, swallowing the tiny, surprised sound she makes. Her hands find his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away, she melts, head lulling to the side when he breaks away from her lips to kiss down her jawline to her neck.

Sebastian spends some time there, alternating between little nibbles and soft, open-mouth kisses across her clavicle. He pulls the sleeves of her chemise down to expose more of her beautiful skin, capturing her lips again as he slowly lowers the hem some more until the cotton slides off her body completely. His eyes scan over bared flesh, an appreciative groan echoing in his throat as he gently cups her breasts.

“Are you sensitive here?” he asks, thumbs teasing her nipples that pebble beneath his touch. Her only answer is a sharp inhale and a brilliant blush. Sebastian lowers his head to wrap his lips around a taut peak, humming at the taste of her and how she arches, pressing closer. He lavishes her chest with attention, alternating from one breast to the other until her breathing is labored and she lets out a tiny mewl that makes his cock throb.

“I bet,” he muses against her skin, trailing his kisses as he lowers himself to the ground to kneel before her like the goddess she is. He lingers near her hip, one hand sliding from her waist to her thigh. “You’re sensitive here, too.”

Sebastian glances up at his wife through thick lashes, gauging her readiness before he dares to touch her. All he sees is desire, all her attention focused on his next move. He advances, watching as her eyes flutter closed and the most sinful sigh escapes her parted lips. His fingers trace through her sex, opening her to his exploration.

“Do you want me to kiss you here, darling?”

This time, she moans, and Sebastian takes that as a yes. He pulls away, softly chuckling at her little whine as he coaxes her to lie down on the bed. Starting at her ankles, his hands glide up her calves, over her knees, and across the smooth expanse of her inner thighs as he parts her legs, settling himself between them. His lips follow, and he looks up at her again as she trembles in anticipation.

“Tell me,” he breathes, right where she needs him most. “Tell me what you want, Mrs. Sallow.”

She whimpers, and it’s like he’s activated some secret part of her that’s lain dormant until now. Her pupils dilate and she eagerly nods. “Y—your mouth,” she answers, desperate as she furrows her brows in frustration. “Please…”

“Well,” he cheekily replies, suddenly realizing how much fun he will have corrupting her with lessons in carnality. “Since you asked so nicely.”

His mouth finally meets her warmth and the sensation is electrifying. Sebastian savors the taste of her, swirling his tongue against her entrance before focusing on the tiny pearl of nerves that make her cry out in pleasure. She grips the sheets tight as her hips buck up, and he grins at the reaction, one hand steadying her as the other moves to join his feverous ministrations.

“Do you like that?” he asks between laps of his tongue, gradually pushing one finger into her heat. She’s tight, and her body clenches even more at the intrusion, but she’s so wet and so ready for him that the digit slides in with little resistance. Sebastian groans, suckling on her clit as he withdraws before pushing in again, each time a little deeper until she is moaning with every labored breath. He adds a second finger, curling them until he finds the sweet spot that makes her back arch and thighs quiver.

“Yes,” she moans, and it’s so enthusiastic that Sebastian grinds his hips against the mattress to provide himself some temporary relief. He’s hard, straining almost painfully as he imagines himself sheathed inside her, how she’ll look with her legs wrapped around his waist, neck tossed back in ecstasy.

He steadily increases the pressure, finding a rhythm that has her writhing and keening for release. And then she tenses, her core clamping and fluttering around his fingers as her body trembles. Sebastian’s chest swells with pride, that dark, possessive thrill coursing through him again as she spirals.

“There you go, love.” His voice is ragged as he eases her through her first climax.

It won’t be her last.

Sebastian slowly leans back on his heels to take in the sight of her, flushed and wild-eyed, struggling to catch her breath as her eyes fixate on him. He peels off his linen shirt, allowing her a moment to ogle his naked body, smirking when her gaze continues to linger on his cock.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes,” she answers before he can compel her to.

Sebastian nods, settling back between her thighs, his hands sliding up to grip the back of her knees as he spreads her a little wider, exposing her slick center to his gaze. He’s momentarily transfixed, fighting back the urge to plunge forth and ravage her like a man starved. With one hand guiding his length, he positions himself at her entrance, both sucking in a breath as he slowly, slowly pushes in.

“Fuck,” he breathes, repeating the curse over and over as he watches her body swallow him, the tight, velvet heat of her threatening to unravel him before he can even start. “Just relax,” he manages to say, half for himself as he clenches his jaw. “Breathe for me, love.”

He gives her time to adjust to the fullness, even as his resolve wavers at the heavenly sensation. Only when he sees her expression soften does he move, shallow thrusts that gradually deepen, hands bracing her thighs as he watches his cock disappear inside her over and over. Her tiny whimpers morph into heady moans, and he switches his focus to her face.

“You take me so well, darling,” he praises, near-delirious with the pleasure coursing through his veins. “I knew you’d be perfect.”

Sebastian barely manages not to lose himself, rolling his hips in a steady cadence that promises them both an exquisite end. He wants—needs—to feel her come around him, come with him. The sounds she makes tell him she’s climbing that precipice once more, on the verge of another shattering orgasm.

“That’s it,” he moans, leaning over her as he braces his weight on one arm, his other hand sliding beneath her to tilt her hips. The new angle produces a new kind of friction that he chases, his body colliding with hers in urgent, needy thrusts. “I’ve got you, just—fuck—come with me.”

And she does, brilliantly so, a broken cry that he swallows with a devouring kiss. Sebastian follows her over the edge, snapping his hips forward one last time as he spills himself deep, a shudder running through his entire body. The tremors take a long time to subside, but he eventually slumps, barely managing to keep his body from crushing hers as he collapses against the mattress. In the post-coital haze, he glances over to find his wife with a similar, blissed-out expression.

“Are we still strangers?” he jokes, rolling to encircle his arms around her limp form. He smiles, heartbeat fluttering as she softly giggles. Sebastian thinks he likes that sound the most.

“No,” she replies, though it’s obvious that she’s still bashful despite—or because of—their newfound intimacy. “Acquaintances, perhaps.”

Sebastian laughs, and the dangerous thought that he could fall in love with this woman crosses his mind. Instead of allowing the idea to take root, he closes the distance between them to kiss her, languid and unhurried.

“In that case,” he starts. “I should tell you about all the wicked things I want to do to you,” he murmurs against her lips, grinning when she moans. “Tell me, wife,” he says. “Do you want me to worship your body?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, please.”

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Exhibitionism with Aegon

Part of Kinktober 2024

Aegon knows that you're nervous about the bedding ceremony. Perhaps that's why he's doing this. Or maybe it's to make those watching you - several of his family members included - uncomfortable enough that they regret enforcing a public bedding. Though most likely, he's just doing this because it's Aegon.

Whatever the reason, when he proudly strides into your new marital chamber, he is already entirely naked and more than ready to bed you. Not only that, he has oiled his entire body.

Several of the observers groan and look away as Aegon approaches you, his arms stretched wide as he moves to embrace you, ruining your nightgown with oil stains. He doesn't wait long until his mouth is upon yours, kissing you thoroughly and sloppily.

You can't help but wonder if this was how he kissed the many other women you know he's lain with. The thought pulls you away from the kiss.

"Don't be scared," Aegon whispers against your lips. "I'm going to make you feel so good that they won't matter. Right?" He doesn't look away until you smile and nod. "Good girl, go sit on the bed."

When you pull back the sheer curtains surrounding the bed, you find it covered in rose petals of every color, and you can't hold back your laughter. Only Aegon could make you laugh in these circumstances.

But then, he begins to tear the curtains off the bed, tearing away the one protection you had against the prying eyes of the Small Council and Aegon's family.

"What is the meaning of this, Aegon?" Otto Hightower asks. He has the courtesy to not leer at you in your thin nightgown, unlike the Lords Strong and Wylde.

"Well, you wanted to watch, did you not? I'm simply giving you a better view." He smirks as he turns back to the bed, and you swear he's clenching to make his buttocks seem firmer.

His brother, Aemond, walks out without a word.

Aegon leaps on the bed, sending half the rose petals to the floor. before wrapping his hands around your waist and nosing at your neck. "You don't have to take off your nightgown if you do not want to, sweet girl," he whispers. "But I want them to see my arse." When you ask why, he meets your gaze, and his irreverence fades for just a moment. "They wanted a show, so I'm giving them one. Besides, I'm positive one or two of them have always wanted a look at my cock."

You don't ask him which ones. That is a mystery you are more than happy to never solve.

"Are you ready?" he asks. You aren't entirely sure you are, but you nod anyway. Immediately, Aegon raises himself onto his knees, angling to ensure that the assembled audience has a clear view on his front as he begins to stroke his cock, throwing back his head in exaggerated pleasure as he moans loudly and whorishly.

His mother leaves the room, her hand held to her face to block her view of her shameless son.

"Fuck," Aegon groans. "I can't wait any longer." He skillfully re-angles both himself and you so that the observers now have a perfect view of his arse as he lifts you nightgown just enough for him to duck inside and lavish your core with his lips and tongue.

Someone in the crowd grumbles, but you don't care, not when Aegon is making you feel so good. For a moment, you are glad of his history in brothels, if it is why he has such skill at this. He easily brings you to release twice before he extracts himself from beneath your gown.

He is desperate enough to forget any other schemes to irritate your observers before sliding his cock inside you, and you aren't certain that the moan you let out is wholly genuine or if Aegon has somehow looped you in to his showmanship.

It is likely the latter, for as he moves within you faster and faster, you both grow in volume, until you are sure that even the guards at the Gate of the Gods can hear you as you peak once more.

And when Aegon releases inside you, you are sure he could be heard across the Narrow Sea as he shouted, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Then, you fall silent save for your panting breaths. "Are you well?" Aegon asks. All you can do is nod. "Good, I'll be right back, my girl."

He climbs off of you, standing from the bed and approaching the remaining audience. "Well, gentlemen, I think you'll find all the evidence you require right here!" He gestures dramatically to his cock, wet with both your releases and your maiden's blood.

"... Thank you, my prince," Grand Maester Orwyle stutters. "Please, accept my congratulations on your marriage." He hurries out of the room with a haste you've never seen from any Maester.

Aegon turns to Otto Hightower. "Well, are you satisfied?"

The Hand does not answer, he simply looks at those remaining and gestures to the door. "Let us leave the new couple to each other."

With a smirk, Aegon adds, "Quickly please, you were only promised the first fuck of the night, and I have plans for many more.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Serendipity*

Summary-Harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. It all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. As panic sets in, Harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. From that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both.

Words: 5k

Warnings: LOVE! SO MUCH LOVE AND SWEETNESS AND SOFTNESS IN THIS ONE! BUT ALSO-kissing, bathing together, p in v sex, a bit of cursing, loads of fluff.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

You stood in the bridal suite, your best friend Amelia bustling around in her stunning wedding gown. The room was a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, joy, and a hint of nervousness. It was her big day, and you couldn't have been happier for her.

Months of planning had led to this moment, and you had been Ame’s right-hand woman every step of the way. The dress, the flowers, the decorations—you had been there for it all. Today was the culmination of her dreams, and you were thrilled to witness her marry the love of her life.

As the time for the ceremony approached, you could feel your heart beating faster. You had the honor of being her maid of honor, and you couldn't wait to stand by her side as she walked down the aisle. But there was one small hiccup—the absence of your escort.

Panic set in as you looked around the room, realizing that you were missing the crucial piece of the bridal party puzzle. "Where's my escort?" you asked, your voice betraying the tension building inside you.

Ames looked at you with concern. "What do you mean? Did something happen to your partner? He was supposed to be here long ago–"

Your mind raced, trying to figure out a solution. The best man was missing. Great. Now, you were left without a partner, the groom was left without the best man, and the thought of walking down the aisle alone made your stomach churn.

You fiddled with your fingers, heart throbbing in your chest as your mind reeled. This was a disaster. So many people couldn’t make it–most of them were supposed to be there for backup if anything bad happened and now, along with them,–your escort was missing too. You were beginning to think if you were the bad luck here.

“I’ll see if someone else is willing, the guests are already out there and I’ll look like a moron but I will–” you rambled, sweat forming on your forehead. This was a bad habit of yours. Panicking so much that you wore yourself down, and if you didn’t breathe and relax, your makeup and hair would be ruined and–

Just as you were about to leave the room in a haste, the door knocked. You all looked at each other with curious gazes, oblivious to who it was.

“Who is that? All of us are here and maybe it’s your dad–” 

You stood by the door, taking a deep breath, preparing yourself to explain it all in case they ask what is taking so long.

But, as you opened the door, you opened it slightly, just in case it was the groom, Eddie.

To your surprise, it was someone else–someone you haven't met before. He was sharply dressed, suit and all, piercing green eyes looking straight into yours.

“I’m sorry-I don’t know you” you asked, and he smiled.

“I’m Harry. I’m a friend of Amelia’s brother. Your escort wasn’t here and Eddie was freaking out, so he sent me here”

You searched his eyes, and they were so calm, so soft. Your heartbeat began to steady, and you walked out of the door, closing it shut, even though it was time.

“You’re sure you won’t mind? Or you're not taken by someone else?”

He chuckled, a sound that you know you will be longing to hear once again. 

“No-I’m not taken by someone else. That’s why I came here. To help you in case you need it. What’s your good name?”

You were lost in the way his lips moved as he talked, completely phasing out and not listening to a word he said. God, he was so pretty.

“Hello?” he asked once again, completely aware of how your gaze was fixated on him. He couldn’t lie, he knew he looked irresistible. But the way you were ogling him in the time of crisis–it was something he hadn’t seen before.

“Hello” he said again, waving his hand over your face to obstruct your view, and that’s what broke your gaze. You blinked rapidly, mumbling “Sorry” before asking him what he said.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n. But–what about the best man?”

“I am the best man. It was supposed to be Archie, I know. But this wedding was a last minute plan and he’s drunk as hell right now in Vegas.”

“Oh God. I told them not to get married one week after the proposal. But who would listen to me? I’m just the maid of honor after all. I swear if anything, anything happens, I will–” You were stopped by him, as he said,  “Y/n. The wedding”

“Yeah. sorry”

You pulled the door back open, Ames coming out, and Harry fawned over how perfect she looked. He was like a brother to her, and you never met this gorgeous, gorgeous man till now. How?

Her father came soon, ready to walk her down the aisle.

You look at her one last time, her face glowing and so, so pretty. Her hair, the dress, the veil–it’s all so perfect.

“Let’s walk you down the aisle.”

>>>

As you made your way down the aisle, all eyes were on you and Harry. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but Harry's hand on your arm gave you the confidence to keep walking with your head held high.

You could see Amelia and her soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle, both looking nervous and excited. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them, knowing how much they loved each other. The priest stood behind them , ready to commence the wedding.

As you reached the altar, Harry stepped aside and you took your place next to Amelia. The ceremony began and you couldn't help but feel emotional as you watched your best friend exchange vows with the love of her life. The rings were exchanged, and kisses and promises were made. It was the perfect wedding that she had planned, and you were so glad you would make it happen for her in such short notice.

During the reception, Harry proved to be the perfect replacement for the missing best man. He made everyone laugh with his witty jokes and kept the party going with his dance moves. After the dance of the bride and groom, everyone was slow dancing–even your father and mother, and they looked so cute together.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping water and looking at them all.

Harry appeared beside you, letting you finish up your water, before looking down at you, offering you his hand, “Can I have a dance?” he asked.

You smiled, wiping some of the drops from your lips carefully, and nodding happily.

“I would love to dance with you, Harry”

You held his hand and got up, letting him lead you to the dance floor. Once you stood in front of each other, you instinctively placed your arm on his shoulder, his coming to rest on your waist. You both held each other’s hands then–intertwining your fingers, and they fit so perfectly.

As the music started to play, you could feel Harry’s body moving in sync with yours. He led you gracefully around the dance floor, his steps confident and smooth. 

You couldn’t help but admire his movements, the way he effortlessly glided across the floor.

“You’re a fantastic dancer, Y/N” Harry whispered in your ear, making you blush at the praise.

 “Thank you, but I think you’re the one making me look good,” you replied, teasingly. He chuckled, spinning you around before pulling you back into his arms. Your chests collided, and you looked up at him, getting lost in his piercing green eyes. 

“You know, I could get used to dancing with you like this” Harry said, his voice low and husky, his words meant for your ears only. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your body closer to his, feeling the heat radiating between the two of you. 

“I could too” you breathed out, feeling your heart flutter at the intense gaze he was giving you. The two of you continued to dance, your bodies moving fluidly together as if you were one. You could feel the music pulsing through your veins, heightening every touch and every movement. 

As the song came to an end, Harry pulled you into a gentle embrace, his hand caressing your back soothingly. 

“That was amazing, Y/N” he said, his voice full of admiration. 

“I couldn’t agree more, '' you replied, a smile spreading across your face, and a blush spread across your cheeks. 

As the night went on, you and Harry found ourselves lost in each other's company. You talked about everything and anything, laughing and sharing stories. You found yourself enjoying his company more and more as the night went on. He was charming, funny, and easy to talk to. You couldn't believe you had just met him today.

But as the night came to an end, it was time for the bride and groom to leave. You both rushed back to the reception, saying your goodbyes to them before they left.

But before, it was time for her to toss the bouquet.

Everyone cheered as she came into view, holding the bouquet as all the single girls gathered behind her, ready to catch it and be the next to marry. You didn’t have a boyfriend, but you wanted to be there for her.

"Alright, here goes nothing!" Amelia exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

As the bouquet soared through the air, you watched in amazement, hardly daring to believe her luck. In a surreal moment, the bouquet seemed to be heading directly towards you, almost as if guided by fate itself. Without even consciously trying, your hands instinctively reached out, and to your astonishment, you felt the soft petals and stems of the bouquet in your grasp.

Gasps of surprise echoed around the room as you stood there, stunned, clutching the bouquet tightly to your chest. You quickly glanced around, wide-eyed, as the other girls congratulated you with genuine smiles, though perhaps tinged with a hint of envy.

Amelia, the radiant bride, beamed at you, her eyes shining with joy. "Looks like someone's next in line for love!" she teased, her voice filled with excitement.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of happiness and disbelief wash over you. "I-I can't believe it! And I don’t even have a boyfriend" you stammered, voice shaky and still in shock from the unexpected turn of events.

Soon, it was time for them to leave, and as Ames and Eddie said their goodbyes, kissing and laughing as they sat in the car, ready to leave.

You hugged her for one last time, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Pulling back, he pulled her back, and they both got in the car, driving away.

It was all like a dream. A perfect dream that had come true.

You were happy, smiling as you watched their car disappear into the darkness, and it was after a while that you realized you had lost harry.

Panic started to set in as you searched every corner of the reception hall, but Harry was nowhere to be found. You asked around, but no one had seen him. Just as you were about to give up and accept that you had lost him, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw Harry standing there with a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, I got lost in the crowd, and then some girl came to talk to me, and I think she was trying to get my number, but I shrugged her off. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you,” he said, his eyes full of sincerity.

Relief flooded through you as he pulled you into a tight hug. “I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you either,” you replied, hugging him back just as tightly. It was instinct, and none of you cared that you had hugged.

Pulling back, you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment too long. You wanted to say something, wanted to ask him if he was taken, but you were scared.

He definitely was taken. A charming British man who looked so good, made you laugh and was so perfect.

So, you decided to shrug it off, the feeling of wanting to hold him once again, pulling at the strings of your heart. He was perfect, so perfect. And so dreamy.

“So–you shrugged off a girl?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood, and to dissipate the thick tension in the air between you two.

“Oh–yeah” he chuckled, one which you were maybe hearing for the last time.

“Yeah, so was being a bit touchy, and I was uncomfortable, so I told her. And–then she asked for my number, so-”

“So?”

“I said no”

“Because–you’re seeing someone? Because if you’re not, that was kinda stupid–I think. Weddings are real meet-cutes.” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

“No–uh, um, I’m not seeing someone, it’s just–I didn’t want her number. I–I wanted yours.”

The words hit you like a brick wall. You were not expecting him to say that. The girl who approached him was probably pretty, and definitely prettier than you. Then why did he say no to her, and yes to you?

“Me–cool cool cool cool cool” you stammered, and looked down, blushing and having no idea what to say next.

He sensed your dilemma, and held your hand in his.

“Y/n–please, look at me”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to. He was so pretty and so perfect and here he was, standing in front of you, asking for your number after rejecting someone else.

And you knew, if you looked up, you would definitely fall in love with him.

Harry waited for you to look up at him, and when you didn’t, he lifted his right hand, holding your chin softly and lifting your face up, making you look into his eyes.

And it was over for you. You fell for him.

“Y/n–I really like you. And what we shared today–the dance, the talks, the laughs–it was so perfect. You’re so perfect. And I didn’t talk to that girl or dance or laugh with her. I did all that with you. And–I think I’ve fallen for you”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you choked out a laugh. It was so unexpected, but it felt like it was meant to be. His hand was in yours, and he was holding it with so much promise. And on your other hand, was the bouquet. A promise. 

“Y/n–will you go on a date with me?” he asked, and you nodded immediately, wiping a stray tear that had fallen on your cheeks. You immediately pulled him in for a hug, holding him close tightly, never wanting to let go.

>>>

Your first date was a week later.

Harry called you to his house, and he had texted you his address. He didn’t say what he had planned for tonight. He wanted it to be a surprise, and you knew it would be beautiful.

As you arrived at Harry's house, your heart fluttered with anticipation. You had no idea what he had planned for tonight, but you knew it would be something special, just like him. Stepping out of your car, you made your way to his front door, excitement bubbling inside you.

Harry greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he led you inside. "I'm so glad you're here," he said, taking your hand in his. "I've got something amazing planned for us tonight."

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. "I can't wait to see what you've come up with," you replied, your heart pounding with anticipation.

After a quick drive, you arrived at a secluded spot far from the city lights, where the stars shone brightly overhead. The air was crisp and cool, and the sound of laughter and music filled the night.

"What is this place?" you asked, gazing around in wonder at the vibrant scene before you.

Harry grinned, his eyes dancing with excitement. "It's a lantern festival," he explained, looking so happy. "I thought it would be the perfect setting for our first date."

You felt a surge of delight at the sight of the colorful lanterns lighting up the night sky. "It's incredible," you exclaimed, taking in the festive atmosphere around you.

As you wandered through the festival, hand in hand with Harry, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. Everywhere you looked, couples and families were gathered together, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

"We should release a lantern," Harry suggested, his eyes shining with excitement. "But what should we write on it?"

You paused for a moment, pondering the question. And then, a smile spreads across your face as an idea forms in your mind. "How about our initials?" you suggested, squeezing Harry's hand gently.

He smiled back at you, his eyes soft with affection. "I love that idea," he replied, pulling you close for a hug.

Together, you made your way to the lantern station, where a kind elderly man handed you a lantern and a marker. 

“This is so beautiful, Harry. Thank you for this” you thanked him, as he, with trembling hands, wrote your initials on the surface of the lantern. He smiled at you, finishing it up, and taking your hand once again, ready to light it up and set it afloat.

You reached the top of the hill, heart pounding in your chest as you stopped. He held the lantern, and you carefully lit the matchstick, lighting the tiny wick under it on fire.

With Harry by your side, you watched as the lantern soared gracefully into the air, its soft glow illuminating the darkness around you.

After that, there was a second date. And then a third, after which, you both started dating.

It was at dinner at a restaurant, and he had specifically naked you to dress up for it. You knew he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. But that didn’t help calm your nerves.

You had worn a red dress, one that you had bought a long time ago. It still fits you well, and you couldn’t wait for Harry to see you in this. 

As you stepped into the restaurant, your heart raced with anticipation. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the elegant dining room, casting a warm and intimate atmosphere.

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw you, dressed in the red dress you had carefully chosen for this occasion. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze lingering on you, for a moment too long. That was exactly what you had wished when you put it on.

 "You look absolutely stunning." he complimented, finally lifting his gaze from the dress and bringing it to your face.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you took in his handsome appearance as well, dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his strong features. "Thank you," you replied, smiling shyly. "You don't look too bad yourself."

As you settled into your seats, the air crackled with anticipation. Harry reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I wanted tonight to be special," he began, his voice soft and earnest. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, sensing the gravity of his words. "What is it?" you asked, barely able to contain your excitement.

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes shining with emotion. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together, and ‘m really happy when I’m with you," he confessed. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, Harry, yes!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight embrace.

He pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss that sent sparks flying. The world fell away as you melted into each other, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

After dinner, you made your way back to Harry's place, the anticipation building with each step. As you entered his apartment, the air hummed with electricity, charged with the promise of what was to come.

You kissed each other, hands pulling at each other’s clothes and pulling them off. You reached the bedroom, laughing and giggling,and locking the door.

You stood in front of Harry, your hands running down his chest, you couldn't help but admire the muscles that rippled beneath his skin. His hands traced the curves of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a shy smile forming on your lips. “And you're so handsome,” you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, moving in perfect sync as your tongues danced together. You could feel the heat building between your bodies, the need for each other growing with each passing moment.

As you broke apart, gasping for air, Harry's hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him. “I want you,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your own need for him evident in the way your body pressed against his. He led you to the bedroom, your hands never leaving each other's bodies. As you entered the room, the soft glow of candles greeted you, casting a warm light on the bed.

Harry gently pushed you down onto the soft sheets, his lips trailing down your neck as he peppered kisses along your skin. “You're so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his hands caressing every inch of your body.

You moaned at his touch, the sensations overwhelming you. His lips moved down to your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you let out a soft moan.

He moved lower, his lips leaving a trail of fire down your stomach. Your breath hitched as he reached your core, his tongue tracing circles around your clit. You let out a low moan, your hips moving in rhythm with his mouth.

“Harry,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets as he continued to pleasure you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he added a finger inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. His finger was moving so well, hitting all the right spots. 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with need. “I'm going to come,” you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair.

As you reached your peak, Harry's lips never leaving your body, you let out a cry of pleasure, your body shaking with ecstasy. He crawled back up to you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss, his hand moving to pleasure you once again.

As he entered you, your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the pleasure coursing through every inch of your being. Your moans filled the room, mixing with Harry's as your bodies moved as one.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his own climax.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion as you reached your peak together, your bodies trembling with pleasure.

You lay in each other’s arms, breathing ragged, but bodies satisfied and contented. He pulled you close, kissing your forehead and cheeks, making you feel so pretty.

“We should clean up. Have a bath with me?” he asked after a moment or so, and you nodded. He pulled you close, but your legs were like jello, so he lifted you up like a koala, and carried you to the bathroom, making you sit on the toilet seat in case you wanted to pee, and went to get the shower ready.

You both cleaned each other. Blowing bubbles and suds, throwing water at each other, gigging, and so happy. 

You threw some water at him, and a bit of soap got in his eyes. You panicked, immediately running the tap again and helping him wash it.

“Oh fuck—I’m sorry, Harry–I dodn’t mean to, I was just playing, are you alright?”

He started giggling, throwing his arms at his chest and laughing at you like you were a clown.

“Ahhh” you yelled, throwing water at him again, and yelling at him for making you scared. He pulled you close once again, kissing your mouth as you lay in there for what felt like hours.

>>>

The next few months of your relationship were a blur, each moment with Harry feeling like a dream come true. You both were incredibly compatible, sharing laughter, adventures, and countless memories together. But just as your love was blossoming, a job opportunity arose for Harry – one that would take him to another state for a year.

At first, the news felt like a punch to the gut. The thought of being apart from Harry filled you with an overwhelming sense of sadness and uncertainty. But as you talked it over with him, you realized that this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. It was a chance for him to advance in his career, to chase his dreams, and you couldn't be prouder of him.

So, you made a promise to each other – to make the most of the time you had left together, to cherish every moment, and to stay connected no matter the distance. As the days passed, you cherished each date, each kiss, and each shared laugh as if it were your last.

And when the day finally came for Harry to leave, it was bittersweet. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held him tight, unwilling to let go. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but love and determination.

"I'll be back before you know it," he promised, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I'll call you every chance I get, I promise."

With a heavy heart, you watched him drive away, the distance between you growing with each passing mile. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you stayed connected through phone calls, texts, and video chats.

And despite the distance, your love only grew stronger. You supported each other through the challenges, celebrated each other's successes, and counted down the days until you could be together again.

>>>

The days apart seemed to stretch on endlessly, each one filled with a longing that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of your being. You counted down the hours, the minutes, the seconds until you would once again be reunited with Harry, your heart aching with the absence of his presence.

But even in the midst of the pain, you held onto the memories of your time together, each one a beacon of light in the darkness of your separation. You replayed the moments you had shared in your mind, savoring the warmth of his touch, the sound of his laughter, the depth of his love.

And then, at long last, the day arrived. You stood at the airport, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the crowd for any sign of Harry. And then, there he was, striding towards you with that familiar smile that melted your heart.

You ran into his arms, tears of joy streaming down your face as you held him close, unable to believe that he was finally here, with you, where he belonged.

And then, in a moment that felt like something out of a fairytale, Harry got down on one knee, his eyes shining with love as he held out a small velvet box.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never want to spend another day apart from you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Your heart swelled with love as you nodded, tears of happiness blurring your vision. Harry slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit, just like the two of you.

And as you embraced, you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. This was the moment that made all the distance and all the struggles worth it. You were here, in each other's arms, and nothing else mattered.

"I promise to always love you," Harry whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "To support you, to stand by your side no matter what."

"I promise to make every day with you an adventure," he continued, his eyes locked on yours. "To cherish and adore you for all eternity."

And as he leaned in to kiss you, you knew that this was just the beginning of your magical love story. A story that had been tested by distance and time, but had only grown stronger because of it.

And as you held each other close, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that you had found your serendipity – a love that was unexpected, yet destined, a love that would guide you through every twist and turn of life's journey, forever and always. You never knew that you had found the love of your life at that wedding, the person who was your last-minute escort would be the one you would marry one day, and love and cherish forever.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

i love you all 💌tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[daisybianca]

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x femalereader

summary: Lewis proposes in a special ceremony—and it’s dirty

warnings: mentions of sexual activities, slight jealousy

(a/n): this is written from Lewis’ pov cuz I love my man obsessed

I MIGHT BE the filthiest person in her life right now. The dirtiest one, with the most disgusting thoughts about her. Do I care, though?

Absolutely not.

Will I let another man touch her?

Hah. Funny enough.

Because when this night is over, a ring will be circled around the fair flesh of her finger. And my initial will be curved into it. I’m sure of it.

My fiancé soon-to-be has chosen a red, long dress that hugs her curved body for tonight’s ceremony. I can see my parents eye her across the ballroom.

Our names are written on tonight’s sky. Mine and hers. The night is ours. And it’ll not be over until we say so.

Y/N appears at the very top of the stairs and her father rushes by her side, helping her to walk towards me. Reaching for her hand as soon as she reached the last step, the crowd ceases clapping.

I take her hand in mine. It fits perfectly, as always. She fits perfectly. Her body against mine. Her smart brain along with mine. Her eyes on mine.

Everything is perfect because she is a part of it.

“Lewis…” She approaches me and I can detect a particular glimpse of something in her beautiful eyes.

I curl my lips in a smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.” I say. I’m positive that everyone’s eyes and ears are focused on this moment. On us. “Probably in the entire world.”

She manages a smile, even though I can tell she’s nervous. About a hundred or so people have been gathered by me and her father to celebrate this day.

Three years ago, when the date was the same as it is this day, I met her.

Three years later, I’m marking her as mine. Officially, at least. Because I made sure she knew—and everyone else around us—she’s mind since the very first moment.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” I push her towards me gently and cup her reddened cheeks with my hands.

Across my thumb, her initial is written on the surface with bold ink.

My hands are hers to use. Hers to lick. Hers to fuck. I wanted her to know that.

I turn around and smile at the guests. Toto gives me a reassuring father as he drinks a sip from his wine next to my father.

“Let’s dance,” I brush my lips across her ear, starting to make our way to the centre of the room.

“Lewis, you know I can’t dance in these shoes.” She lifts her right leg just a few inches and waves her dress so I can take a glimpse of her white heels.

I make sure to keep my tone quiet. “Y/N, I’ve seen you pole-dancing in stripper-heels.”

Her face turns into a darker shade of red. Her hands feels cold. Sweaty.

I don’t want her to fucking feel like that on a day as special as this one.

She has to calm down. And I’m the one obligated to make her do it.

I brush her long hair and press pecks on her temple, cheeks, lips… I stop on the neck because it’s a soft spot for me. Can’t let myself lose control in front of all my relatives, friends and coworkers. It’d be such a pity to grab her and take her to the closest room and ruin such an event.

I being a glass of red whine for her knowing how much she adores it. My hand never leaves her and I can tell that as the minutes pass, her breathing feels steadier.

One hour goes by.

Two.

It’s ten past something and about time I…

“Ladies and gentlemen.” I let y/n’s hand and climb on the stage, rolling the sleeves of my white shirt as I do so. “Thank you for attending tonight’s ceremony, to begin with. It is a special day for us and we are very pleased to share such a great moment with the people we love.”

The crowd above the stage claps, I can even take a glimpse of my dog, Roscoe, swirling around in Ricciardo’s embrace… everyone is overwhelmed and that brings a smile to my lips. But nothing compares to the burning sensation in my chest.

I don’t know what it is. But I know it’s a good feeling. I also got it the first time I met y/n. Or when I asked her out. Or when we first kissed or made love.

“I would like to invite my beautiful woman, y/n…” I control myself not to exclaim “fiancé” or “wife” instead of “woman”. I’m not hesitant to go on. “…on this stage with me.”

The people go thunderous and I help y/n to walk the few steps on the stage.

We arrive at the centre of the stage and the music stops.

All the lights on us. Everyone’s eyes.

It feels magical.

I look up and find the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen already fixed on me. She’s smiling. It’s contagious so I grin as well. “Y/n…” I start but a voice interrupts my words.

“Go on one knee!” I identify Toyo’s voice in the first row as I reach for the velvet box in my pocket.

“On one knee!” Yells my father and then the guests go crazy.

I turn to my woman and smile. “Don’t ask me to go on one knee.” I say.

“As long as you don’t ask me to get on two knees.” She replies in a dirty voice, leaning towards me.”

“Baby, I want you in all for.”

She smiles again but no one hears our conversation. They still yell for me to propose on one knee.

Fuck. I’ll have to do this.

I grab the box tightly in my hand and do as asked. I get on my knees.

In front of my woman. The woman of my dreams.

I’ve been on my knees in front of y/n countless times before, but for educational purposes only. Nothing like this.

I raise my eyes. She’s crying.

I hold onto her hand. “Y/n…” I start. “Please make me the happiest man in the entire universe and accept this proposal.” I think my heart is going to explode. “Will you please marry me?”

The crowd erupts in a chaos of applause and I find myself trapped in her eyes. I expect her to say the word first, but she doesn’t.

She melts into my hands and buries her small face in my neck.

This has to be the most beautiful moment of my entire existence.

She’s crying and I think I am too honestly. “Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes, Lewis!” She almost creams and between tears, I grab her face and unite our temples. I apply a kiss on her mouth. It’s gently at first but then I can see her craving for more.

When I let her lips to catch my breath (I actually remembered that we are not alone, but in a room with our closest people and if she went on I would without hesitation forget their existence) I look into her eyes. I grab her delicate hand and take the ring out of the box.

It fits perfectly on her finger.

I look at her again and murmur, “Perfectly fitted. Just for you, baby. Just for my wife.”

••••••••••

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

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[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part nine//t.c.

Warnings: cursing, beginnings of smut

The Golden Globe Awards ceremony was rather uneventful for you. You hadn’t seen any of the other films nominated, the food was good, but nothing spectacular, and it was difficult to get anything to drink that wasn’t alcohol.

You spent some time on your phone. Photos of Kylie kissing Timmy were everywhere on social media. It did hurt your heart to see her cupping his face, pulling him into a kiss. "Don't worry about her." Timothee had said. You did your best to pay it no mind.

You didn't really know anyone at your table. It was a bunch of other assistants and crew members. You weren't much of a social butterfly, so you mostly just kept to yourself. After all, you came for one reason: Timothée, your boss. Was he also your lover now? Well, maybe not officially. Yet.

At the end of the event, everyone just kind of piled out like they were leaving a high school dance. It was awkward and oddly paced walking toward the exit.

You met up with Timmy eventually and his almost sullen looking face lit up when he saw you. He gave you a small wave and smile. His other hand was occupied by Kylie Jenner. He was leading her out by the hand. You couldn’t tell if their fingers were interlocked or not.

Kylie saw you, gave you a really blank sort of stare. You tried to smile politely at her, feeling strange yourself, you mouthed a ‘hi’ to her, since it was quite loud with people talking in all directions. She didn’t respond to you at all, it felt like she was looking straight through you, so coldly.

She wasn’t more than a half a pace behind him as she tried to keep up with his long strides. You could understand her desperation, as Timmy always covered a lot of ground quickly, though right now he seemed to be moving even faster than normal.

You stayed behind a few feet to give him and Kylie space as people were still taking photos and recording them. You didn’t want to draw attention to yourself.

…….

Once outside, you looked on as Timmy walked her to her car that was waiting in the back where there were no paps. There wasn’t an exchange between them. He had dropped her hand once out of view of the cameras. She got into the back seat of the car without even looking back at him.

You waited until her car left and Timmy was walking away. You walked towards him, saw that he had his phone in hand. You were approaching him as he looked up and smiled at you. "Hey, I was about to text you."

"No need to now." you smiled back. “So where are your guy friends? Seems like they always accompany you everywhere."

"Yeah, I told them to just hang back. That I'd just be going home solo. Let's get out of here."

You walked together to find Timmy's car and driver and there were some fans on the street, so naturally, he had to stop.

You stood off to the side, waiting patiently and not wanting to ruin any of the young ladies' time meeting him. There were more little handmade bracelets, and one woman gave him a rose quartz crystal. They were so sweet to him and you loved that he matched their energy right back.

Once back in the car, he leaned on your shoulder almost immediately, letting out a sharp breath of exhaustion.

"Are you okay?" you asked him.

"Yeah." he sat up straight, looking at you, still touching his leg to yours, "I am now."

Taking the initiative for the first time, you leaned in and kiss his lips. You didn’t even care that they had been touched by another. It didn’t matter to you.

Timmy had brought his hand up to your face while you kissed, and when your lips parted, he spoke, “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s nothing bad.” you giggled. His face was barely an inch away from yours as he held your cheek.

“I want to make love to you tonight.” he stated.

You weren’t surprised, but it was still sweet to hear him say it, “Oh, Timothée Chalamet. You always seem to know what a girl wants to hear.” you grinned.

“I only care about my girl.” he declared, pulling you into a deeper kiss, one of hunger and passion. Your bodies became sinfully close in the back seat of the SUV. Your hands roamed over his shoulders as he held your waist.

..........

It was a rush to get inside his house. Once the front door was closed, you were attached to each other. Your lips were unable to leave each other, his tongue wandered eagerly into your mouth. You moved through the kitchen together, with you running your hands through his fluffy hair and him feeling your breasts through your dress.

"Hm, eager are we, Chalamet?" you joked, cheekily.

He smirked as he held you tightly, "Fuck yeah I am." He resumed kissing you that instant.

You moaned in his mouth, loving the feeling of his hands on your body, squeezing your boobs, kneading your hips, then cupping your ass.

Without any warning, his fingers found the zipper at the back of your dress and he dragged it down with haste.

"Oh my gosh, you're trying to get me naked in your kitchen!" you exclaimed.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" he joked, sliding your dress down your body.

You were left in your lingerie, but you did not take the time to feel nervous or insecure about your body or the way he would perceive you. You wanted this. You both did. And you knew that Timmy cared about you a lot. So, he would never judge your body. You knew it wasn't anywhere close to the perfection that Kylie had. But maybe he would like that about you.

Timmy let out a a breath, shaking his head once as he looked down your body, then back up into your eyes. “Jesus Christ. You,” he put his hands on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, “are,” he pecked your left cheek, “amazing.” He kissed you on the right cheek.

Your face was warm and your chest heaved slowly in anticipation. When he captured your lips once more, you tugged on his Tom Ford jacket.

He followed suit, quickly whisking the jacket off and tossing it into one of the island chairs.

You threw his blue tie off of him without a care, then unbuttoned his shirt in what must have been record time.

Timmy made out with you as he hurriedly unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. "mm," he backed away from your lips just barely, "do you know how much I've wanted you, right here?"

"Here?" you placed your hand on the counter, teasing, "Really?"

"Yes, y/n, you have to know that I've wanted you ever since the first day I met you. You were so nervous, but you were so fucking cute."

"You thought I was cute?" you egged him on, though the information was new to you.

He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, smashing his lips onto the tender spot there. "Yes, baby." he whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

Your hands clapped onto his back. His beautiful, bare back that you had only seen a few times, but each time you had wanted so badly to grab him, to scratch your nails down that back. Now, you could.

January 30, 2025

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