#I am intimately familiar with how she feels
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wutheringheightsmp4 · 3 months ago
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what if I killed myself
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pseudowho · 4 months ago
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"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"
Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).
Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.
Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.
You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.
"There she is."
As if you were the Venus de Milo.
You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.
"How's my darling wife?"
Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.
Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.
"Kento. You're home."
"Mmmm."
Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.
And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.
You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.
You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.
"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"
"You're lovely--"
"--I absolutely am not--"
"--ravishing--"
"--you're ridiculous--"
"--gorgeous--"
"You're an idiot."
"I've missed you."
"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."
"I'm sure I do."
You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.
You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--
"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."
The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"
"And, I'll do it."
"No you won't, I--"
"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."
A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.
You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.
"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."
"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."
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theonottsbxtch · 28 days ago
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PRIVATE | LN4
an: requested by @bhuijnbhuijn-blog this was so fun to make! it feels to good to make a smau after a few days of straight writing
fc: random girls on pintrest and isabel larosa
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thank you london and thank you to my beloved
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appartment in monaco
You were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, barefoot, legs dangling as you watched Lando move around the open kitchen. The soft click of cabinet doors and the muted thud of a cereal box landing on the counter are the only sounds, apart from the faint music playing from your speaker. It was your calm playlist, just background noise, a playlist you curated 100% but one Lando pretended he created to wind you up. He didn’t mind—he hummed along sometimes, absentmindedly, just like now. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue over everything, making the moment feel even more private, more intimate.
Lando was shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It was a version of him few people ever get to see. No fireproof suit, no helmet. No world watching his every move. Here, in this quiet corner of your shared world, he was just... him. And you loved him like this, more than anything.
As he fumbled with the coffee machine, you leant back on your hands, your fingers curling against the cool granite of the counter. The smell of coffee mingled with the lazy warmth of the afternoon. You were both settled into this comfortable rhythm of being together, the kind of domesticity that felt almost foreign when you thought of your lives outside these walls—your career, his racing, the flashing lights and the fans.
But here, it was different.
You’d been thinking about it for a while now. The thought had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, and today felt like the right time to broach it. Or maybe it was just that the stillness of this moment made you feel brave. You took a breath, voice soft as you broke the quiet.
“I’ve been thinking…” Your words drift into the space between you, casual but with a certain weight that you know will catch his attention. Lando looked over at you, coffee cup in hand, waiting for you to continue. You smiled, trying to keep it light. “Maybe it’s time we go public… on Instagram.”
He froze for a beat, his eyes locking on yours as if he was trying to read your face, gauge how serious you were. Slowly, he set the cup down on the counter, his brow furrowing in that familiar way that meant he was already thinking too much.
“Public?” he repeated, like he was testing the word, feeling it out. His voice was calm, but you could sense the undertone of concern, the hesitation that came with anything that involves exposing more of your lives to the world outside. “You sure about that?”
You nodded, even though you knew he was not just asking for the sake of it. There was more behind his question than the words. It was not just a simple post to him—it was a line you were crossing, a step into a world he was all too familiar with, and not in a good way.
“I am,” you said softly. “We’ve been so careful, keeping things private, but… I don’t want to hide us anymore. I don’t want to pretend we’re not a part of each other’s lives.” You watched him as you spoke, searching his face for any sign of agreement, but he was still quiet, arms folded across his chest, his gaze drifting somewhere just past you.
Lando shifted his weight, leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming lightly against the granite, a telltale sign that his mind was working through what you’d just said. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his curls, the kind of movement that let you know he was trying to choose his words carefully.
“I get it,” he said finally, his voice softer now, but there was still a trace of reluctance. “But… it’s different for you. Your fans, they’re supportive. You’re already used to the attention. My world… it’s not like that. It can get ugly fast. And once we put it out there, it’s out there. We can’t take it back.”
You slid off the counter and moved toward him, your bare feet silent on the floor. Standing in front of him, you reached for his hands, threading your fingers through his. “I know, love. I know how hard it can be for you. But I’m not asking for some big, dramatic reveal. Just something simple. A photo. Something that feels like us, something quiet.”
He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the protective instinct he’d always had when it came to the life you’d built together versus the part of him that wanted to trust in your strength, in the fact that you could handle it.
“I don’t want them coming after you,” he said quietly, almost more to himself than to you. “I don’t want you to deal with the kind of hate I get.”
Lifting one hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently, your thumb grazed over his skin. “I’ve been in the public eye for years now. I’ve had my share of negativity, too. But we’ve got each other, right? We can handle it. I can handle it.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “And I’m tired of hiding something that makes me so happy.”
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to imagine what it would be like—the backlash, the media storm. But when he opened them again, there was something softer there, a quiet surrender. He still looked hesitant, but there was an acceptance in his expression now, like maybe, just maybe, he was willing to trust you on this.
“A photo,” he repeated, his voice almost resigned but not unkind. “Something simple.”
You nodded, your smile growing. “Just one.”
He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “You really want this, huh?” His voice was a little lighter now, though you could still feel the weight of the decision lingering between you.
“I do,” you murmured into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him—clean and warm, like home. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Just something that feels like us. Something honest.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your waist. “Alright,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “But if it all blows up in our faces, you’re the one dealing with the PR disaster.”
You laughed, the sound soft and full of relief. “Deal. I’ll take full responsibility.” You leant up and kissed him, your lips brushing his with a gentleness that said more than words ever could. “Promise.”
landonorris
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enjoyed the final show of the break, time for austin
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yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me
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appartment in monaco
It had been a few weeks since you had gone public, and the house felt the same. The kitchen still smelt like coffee in the afternoons, and Lando’s laughter still echoed through the rooms. But outside, in the world that wasn’t contained by these walls, things had shifted.
The first few days after you had posted that picture—a simple, candid shot of you two tangled on the couch, laughing at something neither of you can remember now—felt like a blur. Your Instagram blew up instantly, flooded with comments, some gushing, some not so kind. The had media picked it up, headlines spun their usual stories, and of course, his world—Formula 1, with its intense, relentless scrutiny—had its own opinions. Most of it was harmless, but some of it... wasn’t.
Lando was standing in front of the window, staring out at nothing in particular. You could tell from the way his shoulders were tense, from the way his hand kept moving to rub the back of his neck, that something had been weighing on him. He’d been quieter these last few days, not in the way that shut you out, but in the way that let you know he was overthinking, worrying about things he didn’t need to.
You were sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through Instagram, but your attention was on him. You watched as he checked his phone again, probably seeing another headline or some new wave of comments. His jaw tightened, and that was when you knew it’s time to say something.
“Lan,” you called out softly, trying to break the tension in the room. “Come over here.”
He hesitated for a second, like he was debating whether to pull you into his worry or let it be, but then he walked over, his feet dragging slightly on the wooden floor. He sank down beside you on the couch, letting out a long, tired breath. His arm came around your shoulders instinctively, pulling you closer, but his mind was clearly somewhere else.
“Talk to me,” you said gently, tilting your head to look up at him.
He didn’t meet your eyes at first, he just stared at the floor. “I’ve been seeing some of the comments,” Lando admitted, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep it casual but couldn’t quite manage it. “There’s a lot of hate. A lot of people saying… awful things. About you, about us.” He paused, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want this for you.”
You felt his arm tighten around you, like he was trying to protect you from something that was already out there, something he couldn’t control. It broke your heart a little, the way he carried that weight, like he was responsible for every cruel word thrown your way.
You shifted in his arms, turning to face him, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “I know,” you said softly. “But, darling, it’s not getting to me. Not even a little.” You smiled, trying to get him to see the truth in your eyes. “I’ve been in this business long enough to know that people are going to say whatever they want. But they don’t matter. You do.”
He finally looked up at you, his brow furrowed, still sceptical. “But some of it’s brutal,” he insisted, his voice tight. “They’re dragging you through the mud just because we went public. I didn’t want you to deal with this part of my life, the ugly part.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head, and the sound seemed to catch him off guard. “Honestly? I’ve dealt with worse. You should’ve seen the comments I got after that one music video,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease his worry. “But this? This is nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced, but you could see him trying to process what you were saying, like he wanted to believe you but couldn’t quite let go of his own guilt. So, you decided to prove it to him in a way you knew would get through that thick head of his.
With a sly smile, you grabbed your phone and opened Twitter, your fingers moved quickly over the screen as you pulled up your account. He watched you, confused, until you glanced up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
You bit your lip, pretending to think about it, then you tilted the phone toward him so he could see the tweet you’d just typed out. In bold letters, it read:
"how i sleep knowing i get to sleep with this hunk of a man at night and you don’t "
Below the text was the picture you’d been sitting on for a while—one of him sleeping in the paddock last season.
His eyes widened as he read it, then flicked to the photo. “You’re not serious,” he said, though there’s a laugh hidden in his voice now.
“Oh, I am very serious,” you said, grinning at him as you hovered over the “Tweet” button. “If people want to hate, let them. But I’m going to remind them who I get to come home to every night.”
He stared at you for a second, then shook his head, a small, incredulous smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
You shrugged, your finger tapping the button before he could say another word. “It’s out there now,” you said, holding up the phone in triumph. “Let them come for me.”
He leant back against the couch, running his hands over his face, but you could see the way his shoulders had finally relaxed, the tension ebbing away. He laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and it warmed you from the inside out. “You’re actually insane,” he said, pulling you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
You looked up at him, beaming. “Sweetheart, they can say whatever they want. It doesn’t change anything. I’ve got you, and that’s all that matters.”
For the first time in days, the worry in his eyes faded completely. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly, his breath warm against your hair. “I love you,” he murmured, the words soft but full of meaning.
“I love you more.”
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haters gunna hate, anyway check out my new song x
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pucksandpower · 7 months ago
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Lullaby
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: in which Max is the only lullaby you’ll ever need
Warnings: 18+ content
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You stare up at the ceiling, wide awake. The numbers on the alarm clock seem to taunt you, the minutes ticking by as you struggle in vain to fall asleep.
It’s nearly 1 am and Max still isn’t home.
With a sigh, you roll over and bury your face in his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent.
It’s not the same.
Your body craves his warmth, the protective circle of his arms. Sleep just won’t come without him here.
You’ve always been this way, for as long as you can remember. A perpetual insomniac, tossing and turning through the lonely nights.
That is, until you met Max.
The first night you spent together, you were astonished to find yourself drifting off within minutes of being wrapped in his strong embrace. It was like magic. Now, months later, the spell hasn’t broken. Max has become a necessity, not just for your heart but also for your health.
The sound of the front door opening stirs you from your restless thoughts. Muted footsteps make their way to the bedroom and you feel the mattress dip down.
“Hey,” Max whispers, his hand grazing your shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late, the meeting ran long. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting up.”
You roll over to face him, drinking in the sight of his tousled hair and tired eyes. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”
He offers you a soft smile, the one he saves only for these quiet intimate moments, and your heart skips. No matter how many times you see it, that smile never fails to make you melt.
“Let me just wash up and I’ll be right there, okay?” He squeezes your hand gently before disappearing into the bathroom.
You listen to the familiar sounds of him getting ready for bed, a ritual you know by heart. The splash of water, the electric hum of his toothbrush, the soft thud of his clothes hitting the hamper.
When he emerges in just his boxers, you lift up the covers in silent invitation. He slides in behind you and tucks your body against his chest, legs tangled together.
You fit so perfectly, two puzzle pieces made for each other.
His arms wrap around you like bands of steel and you feel yourself begin to relax into him. Here, cradled against him with your legs interlocked, is the only place you’ve ever found true peace.
Max brushes his lips over your hair. “Did you miss me?” He murmurs.
You smile into the darkness. “You know I did.”
“I missed you too, schatje.” His voice is husky with fatigue. “I’m exhausted but I had to get back to take care of my girl.”
You snuggle deeper into his embrace. “My hero.”
He chuckles, low and warm like honey flowing over you.
You talk softly as you both unwind from the day, voices hushed in the intimacy of the night. He tells you about the team debrief that ran late and you fill him in on the book you started today, trading thoughts and details as the fuzziness of sleep starts to seep into the she of your consciousness.
Eventually conversation tapers off, words replaced by contented silence. Max’s breathing deepens and you know he’s nearing slumber. But your mind still buzzes, body fighting against its own weariness.
You shift restlessly and Max instantly tightens his hold. “Shh I’ve got you,” he soothes. “Just try to relax.”
One large hand begins massaging gentle circles on your back and you focus on its hypnotic motion, on the sensation of his calloused fingers tracing delicate shapes.
He starts humming softly, a nameless tune that fills you with wistful melancholy. You’ve never asked where he learned it. It belongs to these fragile midnight moments, when he coaxes you to stillness with his voice and touch.
Between the comfort of his embrace and the lullaby reverberations rumbling through his chest, you finally feel sleep approaching. Your thoughts drift away until only the present remains — Max surrounding you, his warmth, his scent, the combined rhythm of your heartbeats.
Just as your heavy eyelids begin to close, Max shifts suddenly and cages you beneath him. You gasp as he presses urgent kisses under your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin.
“Max!” You squirm half-heartedly. “I was almost asleep.”
“Not quite yet, schatje. We’re not done.” His voice is gravelly with arousal that makes your belly swoop. “I need you.”
He kisses you deeply until you’re clinging to him, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his back. This man unravels you with barely a touch, your body open and pliant to him like a flower turns to the sun.
When he enters you it feels like coming home. You let out a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the perfection of his body joining yours. This connection, this wholeness, is all you’ve ever wanted.
Max sets a slow, deep rhythm. His eyes blaze into you, grey flickering with lust and love and possession. “You’re mine,” he rasps, thrusting harder. “This is right where you belong. Under me, surrounding me, taking all of me.”
“Yes, yes I’m yours,” you gasp. The slide and drag of your bodies is maddening, tension coiling at the base of your spine.
Max grips your thigh, hooking it over his hip to drive himself deeper. “No one else gets to have you like this. You only come apart for me. I’m the only one who gets to feel you shatter.”
You cry out as he hits that perfect spot inside, stars bursting behind your eyelids. “Max, please …”
He crushes you closer, thin control fraying. “Please what? Tell me. I’ll give you anything you need.”
A particularly deep thrust wrings a wanton moan from you. You’re so close now, balanced on a knife’s edge of bliss. “Just you,” you manage to say. “I just need you.”
Max smiles, satisfied. “That’s my girl.” Then his lips slant over yours, swallowing your sobs of pleasure as his hips piston faster. The tension crests, higher and higher, until finally it breaks and you’re swept away on waves of dizzying ecstasy.
Max tenses and follows you over with a rough groan, your name a prayer on his lips. He collapses heavily against you, breath coming in harsh pants.
For long moments you just cling together, fingerprints bruising, heartbeats thundering through one another.
Eventually Max stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. But he doesn’t separate your bodies. He knows you’ll rest easier staying connected, so he simply shifts just enough to take some of his weight off you.
You let out a small sigh of contentment, his warmth seeping into every inch of you like a blanket. Utterly spent and sated, you quickly begin drifting off. But before sleep claims you, Max’s quiet voice cuts through the haze.
“I’ll always come back to you. Every night, just like this. You’re my home.”
His words wrap around your heart, a vow and a lullaby in one. You manage to murmur a quiet “love you” before finally succumbing to sleep, safe in the harbor of his arms.
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lqvesoph · 7 months ago
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She’s WHOSE daughter?? || LN4
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lando norris x webber!reader
summary: After finding out who your father is, Lando needs some time for himself to think about everything. Oscar is more than willing to help make things right between you.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 4
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
You: What do you mean?
dad: Your Instagram
dad: And I saw you in the paddock together
dad: That hug looked a little too intimate for friends
You swallowed hard before turning your phone off, chosing to ignore the messages and focus on Lando who just walked back into the garage, the debrief was done.
"We gotta talk", he stated, pushing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
You nodded, wanting to follow him back up to his driver’s room when suddenly an all too familiar voice called your name.
"Y/n, don’t you think you should introduce us?", your father asked, sitting at one of the tables with Oscar’s parents. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your father’s teasing. Lando and him knew each other, obviously they’ve seen each other quite a few times in the paddock, especially because he was Oscar’s manager.
"Y/n, sweetheart, how are you doing?", Oscar’s mum asked with a genuine smile, making a small smile appear on your face as well as you replied.
"I’m good, thank you."
Lando eyed you from the side as you stepped closer to your father.
"Dad, Lando. Lando, my dad", you dryly spoke. Lando’s eyes went from you to your dad, giving him a small smile and a nod before looking back at you. "If you excuse us but we have to go", you said, waving at Oscar’s parents and turning your back to the table.
You waited on the couch while Lando closed the door to his driver room.
"Why didn’t you tell me?", he immediately questioned, leaning against the locked door. "I never tell people about my father because it happened too often that they weren’t there for me but for him", you started, fiddling with your hands.
"Not me and I thought you would have figured that. I knew your father, I’ve met him a few times", Lando argued. "What was I supposed to say, Lando?", you raised your voice a little. "We met in Bahrain but didn’t have much contact after that until this week, I couldn’t just go like 'Oh and by the way Mark Webber is my dad'!"
"You could’ve told me", he muttered quietly. "You could’ve told me in Bahrain when I asked about how you know Daniel or at the beach when I asked about your dad’s work."
"It just never felt right", you tried to defend yourself. "Bahrain was just too early and at the beach I sort of panicked, I don’t know", you muttered, realizing you really didn’t know why you haven’t told him until now.
"I need some time", Lando said after a few moments. You nodded and watched as he unlocked the door, leaving the room and probably the track for the day.
*~**~*
"So, what made Lando storm out of here like that?", your dad asked when you gathered yourself and finally made your way downstairs.
"I don’t wanna walk about it", you grumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Just then Oscar walked down the stairs, his eyes widened when he spotted you. "Princess, I’m sorry! I really am!", he immediately said, walking closer to you.
"I didn’t know that he didn’t know but I should have known and I’m sorry", your best friend apologized and wrapped you in a hug. "Don’t be, Oscar. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve told him. I don’t know why I didn’t", you muttered, your voice sounding muffled from being pressed into Oscar’s shoulder.
"Still. I feel bad", he huffed, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "Where is he?"
You shrugged and looked away from Oscar. "I don’t know, probably went back to the hotel", you replied. "Mark how long do you plan on staying because I could take Y/n back to her hotel", he then turned to your father.
"Oh, I was actually just waiting for her", your dad replied, standing up from the table. "You ready?"
You nodded and turned around to Oscar’s parents, saying goodbye and telling them to meet again tomorrow at the race.
Oscar gave you another tight hug before waving at your dad and letting the two of you go.
"You ready to go as well?", Lily asked, grabbing his hand. Oscar nodded. "Yeah but I need to make a quick stop somewhere before we go home."
*~**~*
Just thirty minutes later, Oscar knocked on the door of one of Hilton’s hotel rooms.
"What on earth are you doing here? I thought you sleep at home", Lando muttered when he opened the door and saw his teammate standing there.
"Let me in?", Oscar just asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lando nodded silently and took a step to the side to let Oscar enter the room.
"She’s really sorry", he spoke as soon as the door had closed. Lando shut his eyes and crossed his arms. "Please, Oscar-"
"She knows she screwed up and said herself she doesn’t actually know or have reasons why she didn’t tell you", Oscar ignored his teammates protest. "She’s never been good with trusting people, so many having screwed her over just to get a chance to meet her dad-" "But I know her dad-" "And that left scars", Oscar continued. "She went into panic mode when you asked about her dad. She never likes being associated with him. She loves him to death but hates it when someone brings him up when talking about her achievements, or in general, when talking about her. She doesn’t just want to be Mark Webber’s daughter but her own person and she really really likes you!"
Lando stayed silent for a moment.
"Talk to her, please?", Oscar then quietly asked, searching for anything in Lando’s eyes that would give him some sort of confirmation.
The British driver blinked a few times, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sigh. "I will, tomorrow", he muttered, bringing a smile to Oscar’s face.
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slut4nicholas · 1 month ago
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𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙉 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕
a/n: if you are not comfortable reading about things like this i highly recommend you to find another fic, remember this is all just fanfiction!! im not trying to make nicholas seem like a bad person at all! enjoy.
warnings: infidelity, alcohol, degrading, mentions of sex.
summary: in a whirlwind of passion and betrayal, nicholas finds himself entangled in a thrilling affair with his assistant, sparking an irresistible magnetism that pulls them together despite his commitment to another.
✮⋆˙
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗖𝗥𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣 | as i settled into the comfort of my couch to watch the dazzling red carpet event from home since i couldn’t make it, but nothing could dull the ache in my chest. my heart twisted painfully as i watched him, arm casually draped around her waist, throwing his head back in laughter, seemingly oblivious to the tempest of emotions churning within me. each smile he flashed felt like a cruel dagger, piercing deeper with every carefree moment shared between them. It was as if the universe relished in my pain, turning what should have been a relaxing evening into a bittersweet reminder of everything i wished i could have.
nick and i started dating four months ago, but i had been his assistant for a year before that. it began with him driving me home, flirtatious banter, and sweet compliments. then, one day, he asked me out to dinner i said yes, heart racing but cautious—i didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship or my job. but as always, my feelings muddled things. now, here I am, torn between love and the fear of losing what we had.
with every passing moment, i sat there, my eyes glued to the screen, unable to look away from the intimate glances between him and her. a storm of emotions surged within me—guilt gnawed at my insides, pain clawed at my heart, jealousy turned my thoughts into a tempest, and anger simmered just below the surface. i loved him fiercely, yet a bitter truth settled like a stone in my chest: he loved her in a way that seemed to eclipse the affection he had for me. no I told myself desperately, he must love me too!
but deep down, i understood; he cherished the way i surrendered to him, how i let him seize control, how my body yielded to his desires—making his fantasies come alive in every forbidden moment. yet, as i clung to these fractured memories, i couldn’t shake the feeling that in his heart, i was simply a fleeting thrill, while she was the one who captivated his soul.
as he walked up to receive the award for his latest film, the glimmer of the trophy seemed overshadowed by the unquenchable ache in my heart. she enveloped him in a vibrant embrace, her lips brushing against his with the kind of familiarity that gnawed at my insides, a cruel reminder that i was merely a spectator in a story where i had once imagined myself the lead.
yes, she was stunning, and jealousy twisted like a knife in my gut, but i knew deep down that no one could love him the way i did, kiss him with the same fervor, or understand his soul as intimately as i had. the urge to reach for my phone, to shatter the moment and reclaim the love i felt slipping away, loomed large, yet i fought it back with all my strength. i couldn’t bear the thought of ruining his triumph; the very thought of his disappointment was a weight too heavy to carry.
i respected him far too much to make that call, even if it meant watching the life we could have had slip further from my grasp, knowing he might never forgive me for the chaos my heart yearned to unleash.
with a sigh, i switched off the tv, realizing i couldn’t bear another second of them on my screen—it was slowly driving me mad. this was my day off, after all, a time meant for relaxation! i settled onto the couch, letting the tranquility wash over me, and before i knew it, i drifted off into a peaceful slumber, leaving the world of noise behind.
i was jolted awake by my phone buzzing like a swarm of bees—call after call, text after text. even before glancing at the screen, i knew it was him. a part of me was tempted to answer, to invite him over and dive into whatever chaos awaited us. but instead, i let it ring, savoring the sweetness of my decision to resist the pull of his familiar storm.
just a couple of minutes ticked by when suddenly, a thunderous knock echoed through my stillness, jolting me from my thoughts. my heart raced—why would he be pounding on my door at 3 a.m.? with a heavy sigh, i knew i had to let him in; letting him linger out there was not an option. as i shuffled toward the door, his voice cut through the silence, demanding my attention like a child throwing a tantrum. seriously, he could be so infuriating at times!
as i approached the door to my apartment, nicholas strolled in without so much as a greeting, acting as if he owned the place.
“you don’t see me calling you?”
“no” i lied
“you know you are not a very good liar” he softly scoffed obviously annoyed at me.
i roll my eyes, shutting the door with a sigh as i head back to the couch where I'd been languishing earlier. but before i can even sink into the cushions, nicholas suddenly grabs my wrist, spinning me around to face him with an intensity that catches me off guard.
“what’s wrong with you?” he questioned.
"nothing, nicholas," I reply, crossing my arms defiantly. my body language betrays my words—it's clear that something is bothering me tonight.
"go ahead and keep lying, but i know there's something off about you," he said, stepping closer, his breath reeking of nothing but liquor. in that moment, it became clear to me why he was here.
“nick, i can't believe how far we’ve taken this—did you really think i wasn’t watching i watched you two, locked in your little world, and it felt like you were flaunting it, trying to make me jealous or something. do you get some twisted thrill from taunting me like this? seriously, is this your idea of fun? because it's not just hurtful; it's downright cruel.”
“let’s not start this, i missed you and i just want to spend some time with you”
he took a step closer causing me to push him back a little further.
"absolutely not! i can't keep living like this—i didn't even know she existed until just last month! this whole situation is beyond insane. and remember, you promised me you would leave her! can’t you see how this is tearing me apart?"
with a thunderous sigh, he threw his head back, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
“y/n, I’ve told you a million times—i can’t just abandon her!” his voice echoed, laced with frustration that made my blood boil. “i don’t know what to do, but you know damn well im not trying to hurt you! i have real feelings for you. remember last week when you couldn't even walk straight”
his piercing gaze cut through me. “what’s different now?” my heart raced, a mix of fury and betrayal boiling within me. how could he be so selfish, so blind to my pain? each word was a dagger, and i wasn’t sure how much longer i could endure his twisted logic before i shattered entirely.
i couldn't help but scoff at his ignorant remarks, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "you're so stupid," i shot back, the words laced with a seething anger i could no longer hide. "i hate you," i added, feeling my heart pound with a mix of frustration and hurt, as every syllable dripped with the weight of my unspoken pain.
with a slurred chuckle, he pushed himself off the couch, swaying slightly as he steadied himself. “you know,” he began, his voice thick with the weight of whiskey-soaked truths, “girls only say they hate you to the guy they really love.” the words hung in the air, punctuated by the flickering of a dim lamp, as if each syllable carried the weight of unspoken confessions and heart-wrenching longing, inviting her to dive deeper into the tangled mess of emotions swirling between them.
my heart swelled as i walked toward him, my face softening with every step, and when he opened his arms, a flood of warmth washed over me. nicholas enveloped me in a tight embrace, his chin resting gently on the crown of my head, and in that moment, all the pain and love i felt for him crashed together.
i was undeniably in love, every flaw etched into my heart, even when he treated me poorly; he was still the one i yearned for. tears brimmed in my eyes, an unstoppable tide of emotion that revealed my heart’s true ache, and he sensed it instantly.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against my turmoil. “everything will be okay.”
was everything really going to be okay?
✮⋆˙
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milky-aeons · 8 months ago
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— 'TIL DEATH DO US PART
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ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.
warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k
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ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔
: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.
Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"
: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.
: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.
: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;
"You — are absolutely breath-taking."
: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.
"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."
: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.
𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .
"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"
Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.
"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.
And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.
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ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎
: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.
: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!
: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.
: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.
"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."
: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.
: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.
"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."
: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .
"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.
Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.
But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;
"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"
Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.
"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.
He grunted. "Same... thing."
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ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀
: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.
: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!
Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?
: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.
: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.
: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.
𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .
"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.
"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"
"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.
And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.
"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."
Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."
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ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.
: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.
: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.
: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;
"There you are, my wife."
: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.
: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.
: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .
"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."
"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."
Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.
He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.
"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."
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ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘
: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.
: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.
"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.
: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;
"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."
: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.
: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .
"Fyodor?"
"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.
"Why did you ask to marry me?"
Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.
Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."
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requested by the lovely [ @cocodrilofeliz! ]
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xoluvx · 2 months ago
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Can u write a fluff one where Billie and reader are best friends but Billie has a huge crush on reader. And one day Billie is hanging out at readers and they r lying in bed but reader accidentally falls asleep cuddling into Billie and Billie gets really flustered. When she eventually calms down she does an insta live or something and the fans r like “that’s not your house” “wait where are you” and Billie accidentally tells the public that she has a crush on reader.
enjoyyyy ily <3
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her heart was racing. your head nuzzled into the nook of her neck, arm draped around her body like it was the most natural thing in the world. like you were always meant to lay like this.
billie watched you. her heart was beating rapidly and she wondered if you could hear it even while slumbering. she watched the way your lids fluttered. brows furrowing as if you were having a nightmare and she just wished she could make it go away.
with a shaky hand, she caressed your eyebrows as they detangled from their furrowed state. the action only made you snuggle into her further. soft noises escaping your body. her own body tensed and her cheeks turned bright pink when you squeezed her. her heart was in her throat, pulsing. prying. trying to jump out. trying to jump out and hold you. love you.
then your soft breathing filled the room and the little noises calmed her nerves and she felt peaceful. so warm and calm.
until she remembered she was suppose to do a live tonight. she'd promised it and you were suppose to be the one who reminded her. yet somehow you ended up in her arms fast asleep and she didn't feel the need to wake you.
she pulled her phone out of her pocket. finger taping careful not to wake you. careful not to move too much. her body was half raised on the headboard. she figured she'd angle the camera so you wouldn't be seen.
the comments started flooding in as she watched the screen. eyes big and twinkling with the reflection of the fluorescent screen. she felt you stir, looked down, but you were fast asleep.
she cleared her throat before speaking.
"hi," she whispered.
comments about not being in her familiar space crowded the chat. comments wondering where she was flooded the screen.
"we have to be quiet tonight," she whispered leaning closer to the screen, eyes looking down to scan the chat. she smiled cheekily at the double meaning already seeing fans who were eating it up.
"you can stop asking where i am, i'm not home" she scolded like her fans were children, but playfully of course. she felt you stir again and looked down.
"so cute," she whispered mainly to herself watching the way you pouted your lips. it was clear you were starting to wake. the bright light and talking certainly didn't help.
when she looked up at the screen everyone was wondering what she was looking at. who the hell was she calling cute? then her hand slipped and her camera caught a glimpse of you and you stirred and whined letting go of her body, stretching and covering you face.
billie cursed and grabbed the phone.
"wait, i'll be back" she whispered and set her phone down. the screen going black.
"what's happening?" you ask, voice groggy still laced with sleep.
"the live," she leaned into you raising her brows.
"oh my god, i forgot. shit, billie i'm so sorry. how long was i sleeping for?" you were rambling oblivious to the fact that her phone was still very much live.
"it's okay. you looked so cute sleeping, i couldn't wake you up."
she'd forgotten she was on live too. the moment so intimate as you whispered and exchanged words. she was so soft with you. so reassuring, hand on your cheek as you melted into her. the moment taking an unexpected turn. you swallowed feeling yourself grow flushed.
"so the live?" you ask with a small laugh. billie nods pulling her hand away. then she picks up her phone. confusion and chaos in the chat. then you're leaning into her as she holds her phone up and the pieces to the puzzle are coming together and hearts are decorating the screen and billie's face is so obviously obviously flushed.
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sinful-lanterns · 3 months ago
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GOING LIVE!
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synopsis: (camgirl AU) collaborating with various ptn women for your streams.
featuring: eleven, deren, bianca, shawn, angell
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom characters, adult se.x work, camming, fing.ering, strap ons, exhibition, voyeur.ism, deren grows a di.ck, oral, toys, mast.urbation, doggy style, riding, lap se.x, pet names, praise, masked se.x, belly bulge, may be ooc.
art credits: my drunken boss
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ELEVEN
With your back pressed against Eleven and her fingers working like magic on your clit, your breathless whimpers were picked up by the microphone in front of you and left hundreds of viewers waiting on bated breath. The audio quality was astounding thanks to the help of Eleven’s professional equipment, but you couldn’t really fawn over it yet because of how good Eleven’s fingers felt plunging into your hot, slimy folds… 
“Welcome back to our Saturday Night special on Call at 3 AM…” Eleven didn’t even seem fazed by the speechless silence coming from you as she was too busy making sure the stream was perfect, “Joining me today is a woman that many of you…heh…are familiar with…” She gave you a soft smile before grabbing onto the camera and making it zoom closer on your face, the viewers instantly spamming the chat with heart emojis and bounties of cash, already kicking your night off with a plethora of fans.
“…Oh my, it seems that my viewers recognize you already.” Eleven cooed, using her free hand to tilt your head back to her before kissing the shell of your ear. As you were distracted, she grabbed the head of the camera and tilted it downwards to focus more on your cunt, the audience getting a high quality view of Eleven’s fingers sinking into your wet, velvety walls. 
The squelching noises picked up from the mic were so lewd. So intimate. For a woman as innocent as Eleven seemed, she definitely knew what she was doing. “Let me hear those moans, pretty girl. I know you can be as loud as the lips down here.” She giggled and teased your entrance with another finger, the tip swirling little circles around your folds before slowly inching in. Right away your leg flinched at the third intrusion, walls spreading to accommodate all three of Eleven’s fingers while she wormed her way inside of you. Even if she couldn’t feel any pleasure herself, you could hear Eleven’s breaths falter as she felt you tighten so sweetly around her fingers. 
“Oh…baby…” Eleven nearly whimpered, her voice making you quiver as she began thrusting her hand up and smacked her palm against your clit, “Enjoying yourself on my fingers? Our fans certainly are…” 
She smiled and adjusted her hold on you so that your back was pushing harder against her breasts. Though currently overwhelmed with the sensation of Eleven’s lithe fingers curling up against that tiny spot you adore, you could feel just how turned on she was by how stiff her nipples were against your back. If you could turn around and suck them in your mouth you would, but she kept a firm grip on your hips and made you face the camera for all to see. Your craving for her breasts will have to wait…
“Uh uh…eyes on the camera, my good girl…” Eleven purred, eyes going half lidded at your adorable expressions, “Everyone wants to see you…give them a show why don’t you…? She laughed and pushed her fingers even deeper than they’ve ever been before, ripping a moan right out of your throat like a primal growl deep within. “Mmpf…right there, baby? Yeah? You like that…?” 
She giggled and continued thrusting her digits faster, finger fucking you until all the chat could hear were your desperate little whines and Eleven’s slaps against your ass. “You’re such a natural at this…look at how many patrons are paying for our show, sweetie…”
Eleven groaned huskily before licking the side of your cheek, suddenly pushing you down on the bed with your ass up and stomach pressed against the sheets. “Don’t worry, chat…for tonight’s 3 AM special, we’ll be going all the way until dawn…. So hang tight, grab some lube, and just enjoy the show…” She winked playfully at the camera before hovering above you and caging you beneath her. “Stay like this for a little while longer, okay baby? We’re gonna be here for quite a while…” 
She kissed your cheek before you felt the thick, stiff prodding of her strap push against your already sopping entrance, the rest of the night a dizzy blur, as all you could see were Eleven’s hair curtaining your head, and the spam of donations coming from the chat…
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DEREN
“Ah, well would you look at that. Our first donation of the night and I haven’t even done anything…” Deren smiled lazily as she was currently laying against the bed with you on top of her, completely naked while Deren only wore her jacket and her boxers. Though she was just a director, she was also excellent at filming too, her hands steady on the camera while she gave all your viewers a mouthwatering shot of you about to ride Deren like no tomorrow. 
“No strap. Boring?” Deren chuckled as she read one particular comment from the stream. “Oh, I’ve got something way cooler than a strap.” 
Using her special sinner abilities, Deren was able to conjure up a growing cock from underneath her boxers, stretching the muscle against the cloth of her underwear, until you inevitably freed it by yanking the elastic down. Like a spring, it bounced up due to how hard it was, the blood immediately rushing to the tip and making Deren groan with pleasure. “Fuck…” she licked her lips as she made eye contact with you from behind the camera, the live chat going crazy as no one has ever seen anything like this before. “I shouldn’t have envisioned it so hard already…” 
Yet although Deren was groaning to herself, you on the other hand were smirking and staring smugly at the camera. You were excited to collaborate with Deren for this exact reason; her S-Class sinner abilities that allowed her to make anything she fantasized into a reality. 
“Are you just gonna sit there and drool at it, babe?” Deren rested her hands behind her head and looked up at you, chuckling, “Or are you gonna ride me like you promised to…?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Deren’s smug attitude but decided to play along. As you angled your body to face the camera more clearly, you grabbed onto the base of her shaft and gave it a few, steady pumps, feeling along the girth and length of it. “Like it? I tried thinking of a size that best fit you,” Deren hummed, finding pleasure in the way your fingers wrapped around her stubby base. You nodded, clearly excited to get to the main course of your stream and show everyone just how good you could please another woman. Hovering just above her cockhead, you playfully ran your thumb over the tip before nestling it between your entrance, breath hitching as you slowly sank down on her length. 
“Shit…” Deren suddenly cursed under her breath and weld her eyes shut, the feeling of your warm, hot pussy enveloping her making her head go dizzy with ecstasy. “Haven’t even started and you feel like heaven…” 
She tried to play off the amount of pleasure she was feeling but couldn’t resist releasing a small moan when you sank all the way to the base. With just a bit of spit, lube and foreplay, you were already opening up so wonderfully for her, tight walls gripping at Deren like your life depended on it, all the while the director kept a firm hold on the camera. Despite her professionalism in this line of work, her hands were trembling from how good you made her feel, causing the livestream footage to be a little shaky…
“Heh…the watchers love you,” Deren comments, trying to avert your attention away from how pathetic she was being. “Why don’t you start riding me now? The audience is getting antsy for some action.” 
She attempted to relax back against the pillows, before you suddenly bounced on her hips and made her choke on her spit. Instantly, it felt like she was going to pass out from how good she felt, your pussy swallowing her in and out every time you bounced on top of her. “Oh…b-babe…” her face went red with pleasure as the comments immediately flooded in, cooing over how cute you looked riding your director’s dick. 
‘Not so smug now, are you?’ You couldn’t help but think, smiling before letting out the moans you held in while Deren’s fat cock plugged you whole. Sure, Deren was a professional when it came to shooting films and movies, but she sure as hell was inexperienced when in the place of the actor. As more donations and comments flooded in your comment section, you could only smile and listen to every suggestion Deren had to read; cockrings, sucking her off, fleshlights…? Oh, you were certainly going to have a fun time with your dearest director….
The poor woman was going to be an amateur at something after all…
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BIANCA
With a shaky camera lens and Bianca’s eyes attentively focused on you, you sat sprawled out in front of her with a dildo in your hands currently thrusting into your cunt. When Bianca said she was an expert in filming things thanks to her job as a reporter, you believed her and let her collaborate with you on set. However, now that you actually had her helping you film one of your livestreams up close, you could see that Bianca’s “professionalism” was starting to slip through the cracks the more she watched you. 
“A-Ah…you’re doing great!” Bianca’s voice cracked, sweat starting to drip down her face as she tried to keep herself from blushing. To be honest, just the sight of you naked in front of her was enough to make her nervous, legs clamping together to hide the wetness forming in her pants, all the while she tried to distract herself by reading some of the livestream comments. 
“So many donations already! W-Wow…your fans really love you!” Bianca giggled, though there was an obvious lump in her throat from how much saliva was gathering in her mouth. Poor girl was drooling so much, her blue eyes trained on that ribbed dildo and silently wishing she was the one pushing it inside of you. “Hnn…many are suggesting for you to try the other toys next…” 
Bianca couldn’t help but gulp as her eyes trailed over to the selection of toys you had prepared for yourself. Dildos of different colors, vibrators, nipple clamps, plugs, the broad selection made Bianca tremble as she imagined you in various positions with different things to make you scream. The urge to touch herself was strong, yet no matter how much she wanted to stuff her fingers down her pants and masturbate to the sight of you fucking yourself live on silicone, she was determined to keep filming.  
You, of course, noticed just how riled up Bianca was getting judging by how much she was biting her lip. If you kept up like this for an hour or two, Bianca’s lips would be all bloody and blue. “You can touch yourself, my sweet camerawoman,” you assured softly, teasingly spreading your legs wider to give both your audience and Bianca a better view. “I’m sure my fans wouldn’t mind a little bit of shaky footage.” 
A small gasp left Bianca’s lips as her knees practically buckled in excitement. Resisting the urge to just toss the camera away and tackle you to the bed to have her way, she eagerly pushed her pants down, fingers quickly finding her entrance and swirling them around while she kept watching you. “Oh…damn.” Bianca squeaked, smiling ear to ear while a blissful expression overtook her face. “I could get used to this. No wonder— mmpf, so many people pay to watch you. You’re like a movie star!” 
Despite her excited tone, you could see just how much you were affecting her, her eyes half lidded in pleasure while the shuffling in her pants indicated how fast she was fingering herself. Her lips were slightly parted as if frozen between a moan and a whimper, her cute face going all pink with how hot her body was getting. “Nnnn feels so good…but…I wanna know if you feel good too…” 
Despite not being supposed to talk much during the livestream, Bianca couldn’t keep her babbling mouth shut. She couldn’t help but whine about her needs to finger you and make you hers, to kiss those pretty lips and distract you while she grabs that dildo and shows you how much harder she could fuck you. “Wanna touch you so bad…ah…please…” chatty that she was, silently pleading for you to let her do something. “Please…please, I wanna touch you too…you look so good like this…” 
Unable to resist her pretty begs any longer, you groaned and slid the ribbed toy out of you, using a finger to beckon her closer. “Alright…” you whispered breathlessly, pussy clamping over nothing now as it now craved to have something inside it once more. “Go ahead Bianca, I’m all yours…” 
Your poor viewers could only watch as the camera shook and was scuffled away to prop itself on your desk. The angle was messy and the quality decreased a little, but no one really cared as they all watched in amusement when Bianca lunged herself at you. Ready to give the audience a show that she’d been wanting to do with you all night…
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SHAWN
“Keep the camera on my good side. You’ll get more followers that way.”
Cocky that she was, yet Shawn was an interesting collaborator to work with, as her good looks and charisma instantly had your viewers swooning and spamming various donations in your comments for her to demolish you. She was definitely riding a high horse when you asked her to collaborate with you for your “special streams” but Shawn was quick to say yes. How could she ever turn down the opportunity to fuck a pretty girl like you? Especially in front of a live audience on the internet where she could display her talents in pleasing a woman. 
“Ah, many of them seem to like me…” Shawn grinned as she watched all the oncoming messages spew out like flies. She was nonchalant, relaxed almost, if not for the fact that she had you gagging on her strap and drooling so prettily for the camera. “Make her choke some more?” Shawn tsked as she read another slew of comments, a bit impressed by how dirty your fans could be, “My, your viewers are quite the sadistic bunch, aren’t they?”
Shawn gently patted your cheek and gazed down at you rather condescendingly, her hand moving up to rest on the top of your head and nudge you down. “Ease down a little lower, pretty girl. You’re lucky I’m only nice to you.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of ever being rough with you. While she knew you were able to take a bit of rough manhandling from her, she didn’t want to make her pretty girl cry (even though she knew you loved it when she made you cry during sex).
“Deeper…deeper…” Shawn exhaled shakily as she eased you down on her fake cock, eyes trained on the way you greedily slurped on her shaft like it was your last meal. The clear strings of drool that clung to the sides of your lips made Shawn shiver with rogue imagination. “Fuuuck, you’re good at this…” Shawn grumbled, grinning at the way you took it down like a champ, “Your cheeks look so cute when they’re full. We should have you suck me off more often…”
She laughed at the thought, accidentally pushing your head down further and causing you to choke on her strap. “Shit. Sorry, sorry…” she immediately softened and pulled you back so you could slide off, your drool clinging onto the warm silicone and attaching you to the tip by your tongue. Despite Shawn’s rare show of concern however, you brushed off her worries and gave her a look that indicated you wanted to do more. You weren’t here to be babied and coddled, you were here to get fucked and fucked good. 
“Oh…oh…” Shawn’s face relaxed back into its nonchalant state, and she immediately smiled at your show of enthusiasm. “You’re tougher than I thought, kitten.” 
She eased your mouth back down on her strap, grabbing onto the camera to make sure the audience got a full view of your lips wrapping around her head, the girth of it all was making your cheeks puff up as you continued to bob your head down on Shawn. The sight of you on your knees for her, gazing up at her with innocent, doe-like eyes was sending Shawn on a little power trip that made her eyes darken with lust. 
“You know…as hot as you are throating my strap, I can’t help but think it’s lubed enough already.” She snickered a little before tilting your chin up to gaze at her, mouth still occupied with her dick, “On your knees once more, but this time…ass up.” 
A flurry of comments quickly overwhelmed the live chat, reactions and donations alike clearly excited for what Shawn was about to do to you as she pushed you down into doggy position. “Make sure to get on this side. Yeah, this side is where the camera gets my best side.” She chuckled at her words before swirling the tip of her strap against your already soaked folds, her cockiness canceled out by the amount of cock she was going to put in you…
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ANGELL
Dressed in an all dark mask that obscured Angell’s identity on stream, the only thing that your viewers could see through the camera lens; were the long dark locs of Angell’s hair, and the lewd facial expressions you made as your “mysterious guest” fucked you silly on her strap. Right away, your viewer count had exploded when your special guest revealed herself for your livestream of the night, leaving many of your viewers spamming heart emojis and comments all complimenting on how hot your guest looked while fucking you. 
Despite wearing a mask, everyone could tell Angell was quite the looker. Strong, chiseled abs pulsing and flexing with each thrust of her hips, her defined jawline showing off how beautiful she was underneath the mask… Not to mention how hot her voice was whenever she grunted everytime you squeezed around her. Everything about your mysterious guest was alluring, and thanks to Angell, everyone was completely mesmerized (including you). 
“S-Slower…Slower…” you whimpered, gripping onto her shoulders as she bulldozed into you at a pace only she could achieve. Her breathing was ragged and hot, her lust for you evident in the way she excitedly nipped at your neck. “Sorry… she grumbled softly, yet her pace barely slowed down, her body struggling to keep itself from thrusting even faster. “I’m…excited.”
Judging from the tips of her ears, Angell was blushing. For a woman as stoic as she was, you hadn’t expected her to be so soft and vulnerable around you, even when you couldn’t even see her face that well. It was clear that having you beneath her, legs pathetically wrapped around her waist and clinging to her like your life depended on it, really shook up Angell’s nerves as she wanted to be as close to you as possible. 
Her abs met with the bare skin of your tummy, breath faltering as she pushed her faux cock even further. She was being so intimate, grumbling to herself as her calloused hands moved down to rest upon your soft belly, feeling the smallest of bulges appear whenever she thrusted in and out. “So deep…” she murmured to herself, mesmerized by the sight of her strap going so far, palm gently applying a bit of pressure on the bulge. You whimpered at the extra pressure, your walls clinging onto Angell’s shaft and keeping her locked in place. As she tried to slip out to thrust into you again, she found herself unable to, groaning at the feeling and holding onto your hips. “T-Tight…” she mumbled quietly, gently prying your legs off of her so she could move. “Relax…easy…” 
Her words made your viewers gush about how soft she was being towards you. While Angell looked very intimidating and they expected a whole dominatrix session between you and her, Angell surprised everyone with how gentle she was, her fingers massaging your thighs so that your cunt could ease up a little, and allowing her to slide out once your walls finally relaxed. 
Finally finding a rhythm she could work with, Angell continued her movements, using her arm strength to lift up off the bed and fuck you at an angle where her tip could brush against your sweet spot. When you immediately whined from how far Angell was spearing you, she took notice and hungrily continued to pound against that spot, making your body bounce pathetically from how hard she was ravaging you. 
Various comments and donations poured in, all eager to see Angell destroy you even when she tried her best to be gentle. 
“Make her cum!”
“Fuck her like you’re breeding her!”
“Make her clean you off later when she cums.” 
As all the suggestions piled up, Angell snuck a glance at the chat and smiled a bit under her mask. Though it was hard to see, it was like a switch had gone off in her head as she began pistoning her hips even faster, her hands gentle but her pace outright brutal. It felt like you were about to cum soon given by how fast she was screwing you, your fingers grasping onto Angell’s back and clawing at it until you felt the band snap within your core. 
Angell growled when she felt your release coat all over her strap and bed, the comments all excited when you finally came thanks to Angell’s efforts. While you took a breather and laid back on the bed to smile blissfully at the chat, it seemed that Angell had other plans, as she let you take a break for a few seconds before hovering her cum-stained strap over your lips. Shocked by how bold she was, you gazed up at Angell with curious eyes.
“One of them suggested you clean me off…” Angell murmured, a little shy but clearly willing as she pushed the tip to your lips. “And…I would like that.”
You only chuckled at her statement before leaning in and grabbing her soaked strap, wrapping your lips around the head and beginning to bob your head up and down. 
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karalovesallthegirls · 3 months ago
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They believe her when she tells them she got homesick. 
That she couldn't stay the full month in Argo because she missed National City too much, missed all of them. Everyone at game night seems pleased to hear this - Kara knows they were all a little afraid she might never come back.  "Well, I for one am glad to have you back," Alex says, squeezing her tight. Kara gives Alex her best smile. "I need at least one person here that I can beat at this game." They all laugh, Kara scoffs and shoves her away, and the night moves on without any more questions. She’s grateful for that. She doesn’t know how to tell them that she came home early because no one there laughed at her jokes.
That her childhood friends have grown into different people with a decade of commonality that Kara missed out on. That the old humor they’d so intimately shared a decade before feels stale now, and her attempts at joking were met with uncomfortable silence. That people would speak to her in slow, careful words, as if she were only just now learning the language and not a native speaker. Their dialect had evolved, after all, their language shifted. They had a decade of culture without her, and the culture they once shared now only she carries.
She can’t tell them how the one laugh she got her entire trip was after she said a word she’s known from the moment she could talk - a word she’s always carried without thought or hesitation – and a young man laughed at her. He told her she sounded old, like a grandmother. That people don’t use that word anymore. Her ears were buzzing too hard in shame for her to even catch the new word he told her. She had just stopped trying to say anything at all. 
Even being with her mother felt strange. Trying to navigate a relationship as two adults despite only having a childhood familiarity felt torturous. Her mother, at least, was able to engage more with her old memories, her old language. They could share nostalgia without the crushing weight of cultural progression overwhelming them. Even still, it was hard. She felt more like an alien on Argo than she’d felt in ages on Earth. 
It felt like being in the phantom zone again, of being stuck in a space without time. Even dead, Krypton had moved on without her. It didn’t need her to carry its memory anymore. Like always, she was the one left behind.  There were no words for a feeling like that, none that she could share meaningfully. Even on Earth her language felt inadequate. Parts were always missing. So, when she comes home two weeks into her planned month-long visit to Argo, she says what she thinks they need to hear: it was fun, it was wonderful, but I missed home. I missed you.
It's not a lie. She did miss them, like she missed her people lost on Krypton. Like she missed her mother and childhood friends, even as they sat in front of her alive and well. No matter where she was or who she was with, she missed.
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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 6)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
⯎series masterlist⯎
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One Year Earlier…
The car door opened just a crack, an attempt to keep the torrential rain from getting on the nice leather interior. Your mother struggled to enter the front seat without bringing the elements with her.
“Just get in,” Ward encouraged. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t want to get an invoice for detailing,” she explained.
“What kind of person do you think I am?”
She gave him a knowing look, now fully inside the car and safe from the storm.
“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” your mother said.
The windshield wipers squeaked against the glass as they swished rapidly. Your mother folded her hands in her lap as she took in the luxurious vehicle with judgment. Ward picked up on her distaste, but simply chuckled and shook his head. He had given up any attempt on getting her to like him back when they were in high school together. She had always thought him a showman, putting on a display she wasn’t interested in watching. He may have the rest of the island fooled, but she saw straight through him.
She flinched as he reached across her, calming when she realized he was only opening the glovebox. He pulled out a stack of envelopes held together with a thick rubber band. He dropped them in her lap unceremoniously, right on top of her folded hands. She didn’t pick the stack up right away, looking down at the one on top with a deep sigh.
“How many?” She asked.
“Seventeen,” he placed his hands on the wheel as if he was bracing himself. “They’re still coming once a week, like clockwork.”
“Have you read them?” She mumbled, still staring down, her eyes running over the handwriting, a prominent frown on her face as she studied the familiar little curve at the top of each letter “a”.
Ward’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, as they arrived at the conversation he was waiting for. “No, I haven’t, and neither should you. No good would come of that.”
Faint tears began to form at the crinkled edges of her eyes. The moment she felt them she pushed them away, sitting up straight and shoving the stack of letters into her purse. 
“I don’t know,” she shook her head, clutching her purse firmly to her lap.
Ward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have this conversation before losing his cool completely.
“We did what we had to,” he reminded her. “Look, I don’t like it either. But it was what’s best for both of them. And it’s too late now. We need to move forward. They will, too…eventually. Trust me.”
She looked him square in the face as she grabbed the door handle, preparing herself for the mad dash back to her own car across the vacant parking lot.
“I will never trust you, Ward,” she swore.
With that, she opened the door. She had one leg out, ready to hop down from the truck bed, when he grabbed her arm aggressively, making her gasp.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warned through gritted teeth.
“I already have.”
Now…
Rafe looked up at you nervously, his eyes running up and down your face, looking for any reaction. He was on one knee in front of you, holding up the promise ring you were sure you’d never see again. The sight was so surreal you didn’t know how to react.
You were slowly coming back to earth after the heavenly feeling of being intimate with Rafe again. All of the emotion that had clouded your mind was clearing and the events of the past few days came back into view. Rafe spitting on the waiter he’d thrown in the dirt. The disgust on his face when you’d first said his name on the beach at the island club. The way he had pushed himself off of you just a few hours ago before sending you running out the door crying. The man who was kneeling in front of you right now was not the boy who had first presented you with this ring over two years ago.
But still, he had the same desperate vulnerability in his eyes now as he’d had then. That day you had thought surely the next time he presented you with a ring, it would have a diamond on it and he’d be asking you to marry him.
The image of you in a white dress, Rafe waiting for you expectantly at the end of the aisle, flashed across your mind. Suddenly, it wasn’t you in the white dress you saw, but your mother. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to the moment, realizing that your mom’s rehearsal dinner was tonight and you had told her you would make it. She said she didn’t want you to, but she always said things she didn’t mean, and this might be your last chance to fix things with her.
“What time is it?” You blurted out.
Rafe blinked back at you in surprise. He had prepared for either a rejection or an embrace, not to give you the time.
“I…uh, what?” 
“I left my phone at your house,” you explained. “Do you know what time it is?”
Rafe reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring and checked his phone.
“It’s four,” he informed you.
“Shit,” you walked around him and headed towards the door of the lifeguard tower. “I have to go!”
Rafe stood, shoving the ring back in his pocket. “What? Why?”
He followed you out the door of the small office. Once you were on the porch of the tower, you looked around quickly for any sign of the beach patrol you had been dodging, but the coast was clear. You turned back to him, blushing slightly at the sight of him hurrying to buckle his belt.
“It’s my mom’s rehearsal dinner,” you told him. “I need to get ready, I don’t even have anything to wear. Shit!” 
You descended the steps of the tower quickly, side stepping the rotted spots in the wood. Rafe followed you down, catching up with you at the bottom and rounding you so he was blocking your path to the beach’s exit.
“You’re still going?” He asked, his tone a swirl of anger and hurt.
You blinked back at him, feeling like the answer was obvious.
“Yes? It’s my mom, Rafe,” you said defensively.
“Didn’t she kick you out?” He questioned.
“Kind of. I mean not technically…it’s complicated, Rafe. You know how she is,” you struggled to explain. 
Rafe rolled his eyes slightly before looking over your shoulder, nodding.
“Fine,” he said. “C’mon, you can come get ready at my place. You can borrow something from Sarah.”
“Thank you,” you said, relieved that his frustration hadn’t escalated any further. 
You rode back to Tannyhill on the back of his bike, wearing his helmet, relieved that your identity was shielded from the nosy looks from his neighbors as you passed. You wondered how many girls they’d seen Rafe bring back to the house on his bike over the last two years. Your stomach twisted at the thought and you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, your arms around his abdomen.
You followed Rafe into the house wordlessly, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails, wondering what had suddenly made him go so quiet. Once inside the door, Rafe dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and walked toward the kitchen. You stood there for a moment, taking in the house. You ran your hand along the back of the couch, Rose had gotten a new one, and you hated that anything had changed, even something so small. 
After a few minutes, when Rafe still hadn’t come back from the kitchen, you took it upon yourself to walk up to Sarah’s room, searching through her expansive closet for something to wear. You settled on a short black dress with spaghetti straps. It’s certainly not something your mother would have picked for you to wear, but showing up underdressed was better than not showing up at all, right?
Rafe skulked in the kitchen for a while, slowly twirling the glass of bourbon he’d poured himself, but not taking a sip. He couldn’t believe you were still going to your mother’s rehearsal dinner. He had been naive, thinking that your mother kicking you out and the moment you’d shared in the lifeguard tower had finally sealed your return to him. Maybe you would never fully be his, maybe he would spend forever fighting to be first in your life. He hadn’t fought enough before, he should’ve gone after you, should’ve tracked you down. He threw back the bourbon in the glass and slammed it onto the counter with a sense of purpose.
As you leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara you found in Sarah’s bathroom, Rafe appeared in the reflection behind you. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, watching you. Once you had finished applying the makeup, you stood and met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. You offered him a small smile, but his face remained still as solemn eyes held your gaze. Your smile faded when you felt the intensity of his look. You stood there for what felt like hours, just looking at each other. A look full of history, of unspoken words. The more you looked at him, the quieter the noise in your head became. All of the questions, the worry, the mystery faded and all that was left was him.
After a while, Rafe dropped his crossed arms and stood up straight, now folding his hands behind his back, emphasizing his firm chest under his t-shirt. He began walking toward you slowly, still not dropping his eyes from yours in the mirror. Goosebumps rose on your skin and your heart rate spiked, but you didn’t dare look away.
Once behind you, his chest less than an inch from your back, he dipped his head low and placed the softest kiss on your shoulder. The gesture was so tender, watery tears pricked the corner of your eyes. The brush of your soft skin against his lips undid him, and now it was him who was sniffing you, nose nuzzled into your temple, inhaling the scent he had craved so desperately for years. The glory of you invading his senses undid him and he had to place his hands on your waist to steady himself.
You leaned back into him as one of his arms snaked around you, his hand flattening against your stomach. He began peppering kisses up and down your neck, and you let your head drop back to lean into him. His other hand slowly crept up your torso until it rested over one of your breasts. It wasn’t crass or harsh, nothing like the way he fondled you on the couch just this morning. His touch was revervent, the way you hold something you lost and thought you would never find. 
You watched the embrace in the mirror and he continued dragging his lips over your skin. He was wrapped around you like a snake, completely enfolding you. Your eyes lingered on his arms, enchanted by the sight of his large, veiny hands on your body. Those hands that you knew so well, even after all this time, you could pick them out of any lineup. You never managed to unlearn him. You’d know him forever, even if you never saw him again. Your heart swelled with emotion at the thought.
The sensation of Rafe nipping at your earlobe pulled you from your thoughts and your knees went weak. You reached an arm up behind you and ran your hand over his shaved head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. 
“Thought you hated my hair,” he chuckled into your ear.
“It’s just different,” you breathed as he squeezed you under his hands just slightly. “You’re different.”
At this, he looked up and met your eyes in the mirror, his chin rested on your shoulder. He looked bashful.
“Bad different?” He asked, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you admitted honestly.
“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” He teased, easing some of the intensity of the moment. 
You smiled back at him in the mirror and he ate it up, heart soaring at his ability to change your mood with just his words. Maybe if he kept talking he could convince you to stay, to ditch your mom’s rehearsal dinner and never leave his side again. 
“I dunno,” you shrugged, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would pick up on the hint that you want him to take control of the moment.
“Would this help?” He grips your breast tighter, making you gasp at the sweet pressure, 
“Mhm, I want more,” you closed your eyes and laid your head back full on his shoulder, surrendering to him.
He pulled the thin strap of your dress between his teeth, dragging it off slowly to reveal more of you. Once the strap has fallen fully down your arm, he licks a strip up your neck. When his warm tongue filled the shell of your ear, you sighed blissfully. When he pulled his mouth away and blew gentle air against the moisture he had just left, you fully swooned, swaying into him. 
He rocked with you and started rubbing his hand over your stomach, your hips, the curve of your ass.
“You want me to keep touching you like this?” He asked, genuine interest in your answer.
“Yes, I love it, Rafe,” you said. “I need you.”
“Tell me where you need me, baby,” he groaned into your ear, your eyes now squeezed shut so you could take in the perfect sound of his voice. 
“Everywhere,” you were losing your ability to stay engaged in the banter, the feeling of his hands too electrifying.
Rafe notices how you’re fading, and decides not to ask any more questions. The hand on your ass moved further down, to the hem of your dress. He ran the pads of his fingers over the soft, plush skin of your upper thigh. He lifted the hem up until he found the edge of your panties, hooking his thumb over the waistband and leaving it there for a moment. He kissed your jaw sloppily and started dipping the rest of his fingers under the thin fabric one at a time. 
You braced yourself on the edge of the sink with one hand, while the other slid down his forearm until you found his hand, guiding it to feel the wetness now dripping between your thighs.
The realization of how wet he made you mixed with the feeling of your silky cunt hit him like a truck. He groaned and pushed the hardness in his pants against your ass. Your other hand shot to the sink edge for stability as his hand took over, his fingers beginning to dance over your clit.
“Oh my god,” you moaned.
“This what you want?” He asked, his voice huskier than it had been a minute ago, as the feeling of your soft curves pushing against his erection sent shock waves through his body.
“Baby…” was all you could bring yourself to say.
“Missed hearing you call me that,” he confessed.
You opened your eyes to meet his, but saw that his were now clenched shut as he focused on making you feel good. In the reflection, you caught the clock on the wall, your mom’s rehearsal dinner was beginning soon.
“Rafe,” you tried to pull his attention.
“Y/n,” he moaned, misunderstanding your tone.
“No, Rafe,” you tapped his arm to get him to open his eyes. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”
Rafe shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He said it a bit harshly, his fear manifesting itself into anger as it so often did.
“But-” you started to protest, but were cut off when he sped up the movement of his fingers, pinching slightly and rolling your sensitive clit between his fingers. “Fuck!” You nearly yelled as your body jolted forward.
“That’s it, just let me finish what I started,” Rafe said, his thumb taking over circles on your clit while his first finger reached down to dip into you.
You tried to talk, tried to tell him how good it felt, but no words came from your open mouth. Your knuckles were white from your tight grip on the sink. You pushed back into Rafe, wanting to share the pleasure you were feeling with him, but he pulled his hips away from you.
“Nah, not right now,” he said. “I’m on the clock here, baby, I gotta focus.”
He plunged a second finger into you and curled them upward, finally hitting your favorite spot that he knew so well. He had spent so long memorizing how to unravel you, he couldn’t forget if he tried.
Soon enough, he succeeded, and you unraveled completely. Rafe watched with unblinking eyes as your orgasm had you bent over the sink, crying out his name. He pulled you toward him, holding you up, as he whispered reassurances into your ear.
“Rafe, I-“ you cried.
“I got you, baby,” he cooed. “I always got you.”
Finally, your breathing steadied and you came back to earth. You turned in his arms and his hands rested on your lower back. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a grateful kiss to his lips.
“You still my girl?” He asked earnestly.
“Always.” 
You said it without really thinking, and immediately wondered if you shouldn’t have. Rafe clearly couldn’t see the doubt on your face as his own was filled with relief and affection.
Just as he leaned forward to kiss you back, his phone dinged in his pocket. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption and you giggled, delighted that he only wanted to be with you right now. He reluctantly checked the text.
“Your car is ready,” he explained.
“Oh, good!” you had honestly forgotten that your mom’s car was even gone, the morning feeling like a lifetime ago. 
“I’ll go get it for you,” he offered. “You might, uh, wanna redo your makeup.”
You turned quickly to look at your reflection in the mirror, the mascara you had just applied was smeared from the sweat Rafe had caused you to break.
“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I look like a racoon!”
“A cute one, though,” he said, planting a quick kiss to your cheek before exiting the room. 
You blushed at the simplicity of the moment, and the sweetness of the comment. For a moment, you let your mind drift into some delusional future where this is your home, and you are his girl, and none of the past two years happened. 
But they did happen. Your bubble burst and you were suddenly back in the real world. This isn’t your house, and there were so many obstacles in the path to the future you were still inexplicably clinging to. The biggest of them being that you weren’t sure you actually knew the man you just promised yourself to. The man who yells and fights and gets arrested. The man who managed to break your heart and stitch it back together in the span of a few hours.
The man who never answered any of your letters.
It started so innocently, you wandered down the spiral stairs to the floor Rafe’s room was on. You walked around his room with your arms crossed, taking in the familiarity of it. You opened his top dresser drawer, immediately closing it again, feeling strange about poking around. But you had to know.
You began rifling, opening every drawer and digging through it, not even bothering to set them back to the way they were when you were done. You told yourself you were just looking for the letters, curious if he had read them or kept them sealed, or even ripped them to shreds. But if you were being honest, this wasn’t just about the letters. Rafe still hadn’t given you the answers you were looking for, about what happened to his dad or how he ended up getting arrested. You were too scared to bring it up again, the whiplash of his mood swings today making you dizzy. You figured if you were going to get answers, you’d have to dig for them yourself.
You made it through Rafe’s room without finding anything significant. He had a few joints rolled up in his desk drawer, but there was nothing that satisfied your craving for understanding. 
You repeated your desperate actions in his bathroom, then Ward and Rose’s room, where it appeared Rafe had been sleeping, a mystery you’d solve another time. You made your way to Ward’s office, the room you were never allowed in when you were kids. You dug through the desk drawers, the filing cabinets, the old antique hutch - nothing. Then you remembered a time in high school when you and Rafe had snuck in here, needing to find some spare cash for concert tickets you had begged him for. Rafe had snuck into his dad’s safe, behind the painting on the wall. 
You slowly walked over to the painting, wondering if this was officially going too small. You didn’t remember the passcode to the safe, so maybe it was pointless, but something in you told you to try. You slowly pulled the painting from the wall, eyes widening at what you discovered behind it.
On one side, a gun. On the other, a pile of gold, diamonds, precious stones - a real life treasure chest. Apart, they could have many meanings. But next to each other, tucked away in a manner that was clearly not meant to be discovered, they told a story. You did not know how that story began, but you had the sinking feeling it hadn’t ended yet, that it was still unfolding, and that the moment you opened this door you had unwittingly become a character in it. 
Without really thinking, you reached out and picked up the gun. You were surprised at how cold it was against your skin. Your eyes widened when you realized how strange it was that you had even touched it, and you subconsciously held it further away from you, as if it was a cursed artifact. Something about the weight of it in your hands sent a chill down your spine. You were overcome with a sense of darkness, as though something sinister had entered the room. But when you lifted your gaze from the foreign sight of a gun in your hand, you found that the only thing that had entered the room was Rafe.
(Chapter 7)
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a/n: she's aliiiive!!! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, life is crazy. I missed these two so much. If you're still here THANK YOU for sticking with me!!! I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I had to get something posted and this is what I have. The rest of the story lives in my brain, alive and well and will be posted at some point I promise!! I think I have 3 or 4 chapters until I've told the full story.
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bunnyhugs77 · 11 months ago
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Daddy Daycare
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Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader
Word Count: 7k
Part: 1, 2, 3
Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.
Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.
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"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"
Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.
The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.
"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.
Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.
"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.
With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".
The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.
You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.
The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.
You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.
By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.
You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.
The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.
"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."
Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.
"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.
"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.
You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.
"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.
With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.
"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.
"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.
If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.
"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.
"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.
"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.
There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.
Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.
Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."
~~
"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.
You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--
"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.
Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.
"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.
"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.
His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.
"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.
"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.
You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."
You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.
-
The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.
Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.
"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.
"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"
The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.
"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."
By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.
"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."
"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.
"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.
"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.
You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.
"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."
Oh boy.
Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.
"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--
"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.
"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.
"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.
You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."
As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.
"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.
"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."
"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.
As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.
"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.
She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."
You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.
"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."
Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."
You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.
-
"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."
Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.
You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.
You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.
Meanwhile,
"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.
In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."
She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."
"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.
"Your bus broke down? Where?"
"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.
The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.
No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.
Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.
You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.
"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.
"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."
"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.
You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.
It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.
The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.
"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.
"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."
"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.
"You don't have to-"
"I was 19." 
Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.
"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."
Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.
"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."
You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."
Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.
"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"
You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.
"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.
He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"
"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"
The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.
There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.
Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.
By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.
"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.
You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"
A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."
Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?
How couldn't you like it?
-
Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.
You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.
Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.
Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.
Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.
Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.
With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.
Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.
"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.
He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.
Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.
Oh, and his hair was blonde.
Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.
"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.
Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.
"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"
Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.
"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."
Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.
"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.
The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.
"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.
It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.
You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.
"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.
"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.
"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.
"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.
One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.
"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.
Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.
"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.
Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.
Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"
He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."
Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.
Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."
The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.
-
"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.
Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.
"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.
"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.
"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.
-
"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.
"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.
Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.
The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.
Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.
Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.
"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.
"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."
"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.
He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.
It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.
He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.
The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.
Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.
Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.
Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.
He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.
"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.
"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.
Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.
You shouldn't.
But the buzzing wouldn't stop.
What if it was an emergency?
You peeked at the screen.
Hana
-Where are you?
-I can't stop thinking about our night together.
-Pick up, I want to talk to you.
-When will I see you again? :(
Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.
You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.
Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.
"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.
"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.
"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.
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thecharacterchronicler · 5 months ago
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Bloodline (Part 1) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut
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Outline: Your family arranged for you to marry Marvolo Gaunt. Fortunately, your best friend Ominis steps up and makes sure to save you from such a fate.
Word count: 4’515
Warnings: English isn’t my first language so possible misspelled or misplaced words, arranged marriage, abusive families (mentioned), first time s*x, friends to lovers and explicit smut.
(( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))
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The familiar flip-flap of owls entering the great hall through the windows resounded in Ominis’ ears, excited chatter rising from the students sitting at the tables as, one by one, they received their mail. The sound of paper falling on a wooden surface nearby piqued his curiosity, he didn’t receive letters often, nor did you or Sebastian but an envelope had unmistakably landed in front of one of you.
Your clothes rustled as you moved to take the paper in your hand, tearing apart the top of the envelope as your owl took flight again, its wings almost grazing Ominis’s hair on its way back to the owlery.
Despite the noise of other students all around, Ominis distinctly heard you take a sharp inhale of air, your silence as you read the letter addressed to you feeling somewhat tense.
“Is everything alright ?” He asked you, but you didn’t reply right away, too focused on whatever you were reading.
He waited a few more minutes, noticing the way your legs grew restless and your movements became agitated. You were sitting at the opposite side of the table from him and your foot bumped into his a few times as you nervously readjusted your posture.
He was too polite to insist and didn’t want to push you to share something you might want to keep for yourself, so even though he was dying to question you about the mysterious letter you had received and why its content seemed to upset you, he simply cleared his throat to remind you that he was waiting for an answer to his question.
“It’s a letter from my family.” You explained, with a slight tremble in your voice. “They say that they arranged a partnership for me, effective immediately after graduation.”
“A partnership ? You mean some kind of professional training ?” Sebastian asked, before biting into an apple.
“That would be an internship.” Ominis corrected him, shaking his head. “I think she meant something more intimate than that.”
“Like… A relationship ?” Sebastian inquired, still munching on his fruit.
“A marriage.” You stated, defeated.
“I didn’t know you were dating someone.”
“I am not.”
“It’s common for wealthy and powerful families such as hers to arrange weddings, especially if it’s a matter of keeping their bloodline alive and pure.” Ominis explained, a shiver running down his spine. That was something his family did too, they were obsessed with maintaining the quality of their bloodline, suitable matches were carefully chosen, sometimes within their own family members.
“It’s more of a business contract than a marriage.” You added, with a sigh. “And my parents are making it very clear that I don’t have any say in the matter.”
“Do you know who’s the lucky fiancé, though ?” Sebastian asked, seemingly taking such terrible news lightly. Way too lightly. It was a tragedy, really. You deserved better than to be forced into a loveless marriage under the pretense of keeping a bloodline going, securing the pride and superiority of the worst kind of wizards to exist. Maybe Sebastian couldn’t quite grasp the gravity of what you had been asked to do but Ominis knew all too well how you must feel, being robbed of your free will and freedom by a controlling and corrupted family.
“It’s Marvolo Gaunt.” You answered, bluntly, before getting up from your seat on the bench and leaving the great hall in a rush. Although Ominis couldn’t see, he felt the intensity of your gaze piercing right through him, until you were no longer in the room.
His chest tightened and his body tensed at the sound of his older brother’s name. Marvolo probably was the most cruel wizard he knew, aside from their father. Although they shared the same blood, the same family and the same education, Ominis wasn’t afraid to say that his brother was immensely deranged and should have been locked up in Azkaban a long time ago, like the rest of his family actually. The only reason rules didn’t apply to them and they were free to commit the most vile and cruel crimes without facing punishment was because they were Gaunts, descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin and held more power and wealth than any other family of wizards in the country.
And now you were going to be one of them.
He couldn’t imagine you, taking part in the cruel acts his family committed for fun. And if you didn’t, they would find a way to punish you for it, just like they had punished him in the past. The Gaunts were dangerous, and you needed to stay away from them, no matter what.
Ominis stood up, reaching for his wand to guide his steps through the corridors and halls of the castle. He needed to find you and he knew his wand would know exactly where to take him. He was racking his brain, trying to find a solution to save you from such a doomed fate as he followed mindlessly the path his wand indicated. Eventually, he found himself outside, in a narrow courtyard. Wind rustled through the leaves of a nearby tree and caressed his face, sending a cold shiver through his body. He couldn’t feel any rays of sunshine warming his skin, meaning it must be a rather cloudy afternoon. He could hear the sound of water moving in the fountain at the center of the courtyard, birds singing in the sky… And soft muffled sobs. His wand twitched, tugging him in your direction.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Ominis told you, once he was standing in front of you. He could hear the sobs shaking your body as clear as day but still felt compelled to bring his hand to your face, wiping the warm teardrops away from your cheeks with his thumb. “Marvolo really isn’t a suitable match for you.”
“It’s alright, I knew this day would come eventually. I was just hoping my parents wouldn’t force me into this as soon as I was done with school.” You replied, another teardrop falling from your lashes and rolling down your cheek..
“There must be something we can do about it.” Ominis said, instinctively brushing off the fresh tear from your face. “What if you were engaged to someone else ?”
You laughed although you didn’t find anything amusing about the situation.
“During my seven years here, no one ever courted me, no one attempted to ask me on a date, I have no other prospects. And you know as well as I do that my parents shouldn’t risk angering the Gaunts.”
Ominis furrowed his brows. You were right, if your parents broke their promise to marry you off to one of his siblings, they might not make it out alive. If his parents had arranged for you to be wed to Marvolo, it meant they considered your blood pure enough to perpetuate their dignified bloodline. It was a rare occurrence, usually no one was deemed worthy enough so chances were that they’d do everything in their power to ensure that you’d become a Gaunt now that they had approved of you.
If you broke the arrangement to be with someone else, a wizard of lower class and reputation, his father would take it as an offense and you’d have to pay for such a daring act. If you married Marvolo, then surely he would take advantage of you and of your obligation to satisfy your family and his, he’d be cruel and violent, he wouldn’t care about you and would never treat you with the respect you deserved… There was only one option left.
“Marry me.” Ominis stated, determined.
“What ? What are you saying ?” You spoke, dumbstruck by the sudden suggestion.
“My parents want you to ensure the purity of our bloodline, your parents want you to earn the status and power that come with my last name… So marry me instead.”
“Ominis, you don’t have to. I can’t ask you to do that for me, that’s…” You argued, shaking your head.
“It’s a matter of time before my parents arrange a wedding for me too. I think I’d much rather be married to someone I consider a friend than a stranger they would have picked for me. So really, you’d be the one doing me a favor.” Ominis continued, his heart beating faster as he spoke. He knew it was a good idea, it would save you from Marvolo, from his family and, despite being a Gaunt himself, he would do his best to treat you well. He would never hurt you, never mock you, never give you any reason to regret choosing him instead of his brother…
So please, say yes.
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His mother adjusted his tie. She told him that the all black suit she had gotten tailored made for him suited him better than anything he ever wore. She said it brought his blue eyes out, and that everyone would be able to tell that he was one of the heirs of the Gaunt name. Ominis wasn’t sure what was meant to be a compliment and what was meant as a jab, but he simply nodded at everything she said.
By the time he walked down to the garden of the imposing manor, his mother’s arm looped in his, he felt dizzy with anxiety. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out at any minute. His ribcage felt so tight around his lungs that he could barely breathe correctly, and the more time went by, the more sweaty his hands became.
He could hear the chatter of the numerous guests his parents had invited as they took place around the lectern that had been placed at the very center of the garden. The familiar smell of roses tickled his nose, meaning the white rose bushes must be in full bloom in this season. He could feel the sunshine on his face and the warm summer air on his skin. It was a beautiful day on the gloomy manor.
His mother let go of his arm, leaving him standing on his own in front of what he imagined was an impressive audience of grumpy wizards. He still couldn’t quite catch his breath and, the moment the ambient chatter died down, his throat instantly felt constricted and his body tensed up.
He heard the whispers among the crowd and the footsteps approaching in his direction. It was unmistakably the way of walking of a man, confident and determined while the lighter steps next to his were more hesitant. In the past seven years, Ominis had memorized the sound of your steps. He also could recognize your smell in a crowd and knew exactly how soft your skin felt under his fingers. He could tell if your hair was up or let down from the way you touched and played with it and he knew that the quiet, almost imperceptible breaths you let out meant that you felt nervous. He knew all of this and more yet, he had no idea what it felt like to kiss your lips or hold you in his arms and that felt awfully wrong, considering what you both were about to do.
The man that had accompanied you walked away, leaving you standing with Ominis in front of prying, curious eyes. You didn’t say anything to each other, too busy trying to not pass out from how anxious you both felt. The contract was written and placed on the pupil in front of you, its tricky clauses oozing with dark magic.
It wasn’t just any contract. It was a cursed one, meant to bind you together forever. The words til death do us part took a different meaning as you signed your name at the bottom of the page, knowing that if you ever tried to leave him, you’d most likely be instantly killed by some kind of dark spell that probably was forbidden to cast. The promises you made by signing this contract were definitive and the consequences if you failed to hold them were deadly. At the very least, you both could feel thankful that you weren’t making such vows to a complete stranger.
Ominis signed the parchment too, the ink dripping from the quill dark red like blood. The contract was sealed with applause and illegal magic, making you his wife. For the rest of your lives.
The dinner that followed the ceremony was dull and mostly boring, a display of Mister Gaunt’s power and a lecture on his narrow views about muggles and mudblood wizards, as the guests listened quietly to his speech, nodding in agreement every once in a while. Eventually, Ominis took his leave, pretending that he was exhausted from the events of the day. You excused yourself too, glad to find him waiting for you in the hallway.
He knew the manor he grew up in in details and could navigate it without the help of his wand. He guided you upstairs, through the dark corridor that led to his bedroom. He opened the door for you, letting you step inside first before following you in and shutting the door behind him. He had never had any guest in his bedroom before and that realization made him feel uneasy. He knew that the servants kept his room neat and tidy - just how he liked it - but he wasn’t sure of what you were going to think about the ancient desk he sat at to write his letters to Sebastian, or the books that lined the shelves of bookcases that reached the ceiling. And what about the four poster bed he slept in, he had always found it large and comfortable but suddenly he worried it might be too small to share with you.
“Once we move into our own home we’ll be able to sleep in separate rooms. But for now, I think it’s better if we share mine.” He said, hoping that you wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable here until then.
To convince his parents to let him marry you instead of his brother, he had pretended he was madly, irredeemably in love with you. At first, they didn’t like it, saying that love made men foolish and pushed them to their demise but, eventually, they came to the realization that him wanting you so badly would serve the purpose of continuing their bloodline. Many heirs could be born from such desires.
Now that you were here, in the intimacy of his bedroom, he couldn’t help but think about it. How amazing it would be to kiss you, touch you, make you his as everybody expected him to. But he wouldn’t do it. Mainly because he was a gentleman and had promised himself that he would never, ever, disrespect you. And also because he was determined to not give his parents the satisfaction of having any heirs from him. The Gaunt bloodline was poison, corrupted with dark practices and immorality. Sooner or later, one of them would cause unforgivable chaos in the world, so he was determined to prevent it from happening anyway he could.
“I’m sorry that you had to do this.” You told him, taking a closer look at the books on his nightstand. You sounded sincere, as if you felt guilty that he now had the privilege of calling you his wife. “You should have been able to marry someone you love.”
Ominis had never felt anything remotely close to what was described in the books he read for someone, nor did he experience the crushes Sebastian so often had on a random person every once in a while. The only woman that had somehow interested him was you. He cared about you. And maybe it was an acceptable foundation for a marriage.
“You should have been able to do that too.” You sat on his bed, your wedding dress crunching up above your legs. He approached, heart hammering in his chest. “But for what it’s worth, I consider myself lucky to call you my wife.”
You smiled and reached out to take his hand in yours. His palms were sweaty, as per usual when you were around, but you didn’t seem bothered by that, pulling him so that he’d sit on the bed next to you.
“Do you mind if I try something ?” You asked him, a bit hesitantly. He took a sharp inhale of air, his body straightening up with sudden tension. In appearance, he seemed quite uncomfortable to be sitting so close to you, and even more now that you had asked him such a question, but he nodded despite hating being unsure of what to expect.
You moved closer, slowly. Your scent tickled his nose, he knew it by heart, he had fell asleep more than once to the faint perfume you left on the common room’s couch pillows, usually prompting him to dream of you. He felt your soft, warm breath caress his skin, indicating that your face was inching impossibly close towards his. He held his breath as you pressed your delicate lips to his, giving him a chaste kiss to seal your union, far from prying eyes.
He kept his eyes closed when you moved away, conflicted emotions passing on his face. He wasn’t expecting to feel so many tingles in his stomach after such a light and short kiss, yet even now that you had moved away, he still felt millions of butterflies tingling under his skin. He left out the breath he had been holding, taking just enough air to say your name, softly.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what it felt like.” You apologized, and he knew from the sound of your voice that you must be blushing.
He had wondered what it would feel like to kiss you too, more than he’d like to admit. A friend shouldn’t be curious about such things, it felt wrong to him, like he was betraying you by having such intimate thoughts about you. He hated how conflicted he felt whenever he woke up with an erection because he had spent the night dreaming of you touching him, and he hated how his primal instinct sometimes took over and he’d end up brushing against your chest or your back under the pretense that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He shouldn’t feel so desperate for his friend to kiss him again, and surely he shouldn’t want to be given permission to explore the body of his friend in details… But perhaps, if such desires weren’t acceptable between friends, they could be considered reasonable ones to have for his wife…
“Don’t apologize, we’re married now after all.” He gulped, feeling the temperature of his body rising. “Kissing is one of the many things that will be expected from us.”
You moved, suddenly growing agitated next to him. He could hear the rustle of the fabric of your wedding dress, the sound of clasps being opened and knots getting untied. He didn’t dare to move, not even breathe, as he carefully listened for a clue as to what you were up to. Then, he felt your hands on his chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his vest, one by one.
“What are you doing ?” He asked, his breath catching in his throat when his hands, resting on his lap, brushed against your bare thighs.
“Another thing that is expected of us.” You simply replied, now dragging his vest down his shoulders, before repeating the same actions to remove his shirt. He heard your surprised, yet quiet, gasp and the way your breathing became labored at the sight of his chest. He felt your fingers tracing the lines of his abs, brushing against the blond hair under his navel and grazing the elastic of his pants.
He said your name in a whisper, wanting it to be a warning but coming out like a desperate plea. You shouldn’t be touching him like this, not because it was what your families required of you. You should only do it because you wanted to. So he knew he had to stop you before it went too far, before he wouldn’t be able to refuse, before his body was set ablaze by his repressed lust for yours otherwise, there would be no way of stopping him anymore. He would consume you. Worship you. Devour you. And his promise to never disrespect you would be just a distant memory already, because none of the things he wanted to do to you were respectable.
But you weren’t making it easy for him to keep his word. Your hand was still tracing the lines of his chest like he was some kind of sculpture you were admiring, taking in every detail like he would. And when you moved to sit on his lap, straddling him and trapping him between you and the bed, he tensed up and groaned.
He brought his hands to your hips, telling himself that he’d gently guide you off of him so that he’d be able to remain a gentleman and not take advantage of the admirable loyalty you had for your family with your determination to complete your marital duties right away, but when he felt nothing but your warm skin under his fingers, when you leaned forward to press your naked chest against his and plant another soft kiss on his lips, the remaining of his will power to resist you dissolved.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, we’re friends.” He said, because that was what he usually told himself whenever he thought about you while rubbing himself in the shower. Except he wasn’t the one gripping on his erection this time. You had easily opened up his pants and now the evidence of his desire for you was held tightly in your hand. Your thumb stroked the tip of his erection, spreading the clear drop of precum that had escaped from it over the sensitive pink skin.
“We’re not friends anymore, Ominis. We’re married.” You corrected him, your words destroying the only argument he had to convince himself to not behave like some kind of wild animal as he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from exploring your naked body. “I wasn’t allowed to organize my wedding, chose my dress or invite my friends… Don’t rob me from having a beautiful wedding night. Please.”
His erection twitched in your hand. You were asking so nicely, so politely, for something so intense and passionate, it made him even harder. He put his arm around your waist, securely holding you as he removed you from his lap and laid you down on his bed with a strength you never expected him to have.
“Are you sure this is what you want ?” He inquired, holding himself above you with his hands gripping the headboard, his pants and underwear down to his knees.
“Absolutely.” You confirmed, with a shudder of excitement.
“Very well.” His voice was low, revealing just how badly he wanted this too. He placed a hand on your knee and followed the path all the way up to your core. He could feel the wetness and warmth coming from your center, begging for his attention. He traced the slit between your legs a few times, making you gasp with anticipation. Then, he pushed a finger passed your entrance, your whimper resounding in his ears. He moved his hand in a back and forth motion, not really aiming to pleasure you this way but trying to memorize a path he couldn’t see.
He took his finger out, bringing his hand back to his impatient cock. He wiped your wetness over his tip, mixing it with the fresh drops of precum that coated his skin. Once most of his hard length was slick and sticky, he brought his tip exactly where his finger had been, rubbing it between your wet folds to gather even more moisture before finally pushing it inside you. He heard you gasp loudly and he did too, the tightness of your cunt taking him by surprise.
He easlily managed to slide even deeper, burying his entire length inside of you with a satisfied sigh. He could hear your panting breaths, your soft cries in reaction to his movements inside you and the way you moaned his name, encouraging him to rock his hips against yours a few times.
It was nothing like he had thought it would be. His hand had never made him feel as good as you did, your warmth, wetness and tightness around him were intoxicating. The most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.
He slowly pulled himself almost all the way out, only to shove himself back in with more force. He could feel his tip hitting deep inside you, pleasure building in his abdomen with each of his quick pushes.
The sounds you made were music to his ears, the way you reacted to each of his thrusts was delightful, better than what he had imagined in his most vivid fantasies. He never expected you to be so loud, perfectly showing him how good he was making you feel. He increased his speed and you moaned even louder, practically crying out his name.
He felt your legs closing around his waist, keeping him close while your nails dug into his back, the whole bed shaking in rythym with his movements. Was he too rough ? How could he not be ? It was impossible to be more gentle when the pleasure he felt with each thrust kept intensifying, he was going to lose his mind, chasing the feeling, building it up until he couldn’t take it anymore.
You cried out one more time and your body tensed up, tightening around him so viciously that he finally reached his climax, instantly filling you up with his release. You kept your legs around him, your body spasming with intense pleasure as he struggled to catch his breath for a moment, his thoughts slowly coming back into order.
He waited until your body stopped twitching to remove himself, feeling your shudder as he pulled his spent erection out of you. You still were softly panting, your chest rising and falling under his hand while the other still clasped tightly the headboard. He leaned over, easily finding your lips from which breathless gasps still escaped. He kissed you, gently, as a way to apologize for losing control of himself and felt relieved when you returned his kiss even more fervently.
He moved to his side, lying down next to you to give you enough space to catch your breath but you inched closer, nuzzling your naked body against his in a cuddle that felt even more intimate than what he had just did to you.
“Thank you.” You said softly, sounding truly happy. Ominis smiled, his fingers absently caressing your back, playing with strands of your now messy hair. “I’m glad to have you as my husband.”
Husband. The word turned in his head, reminding him that you now were officially a couple. Mrs Ominis Gaunt; his best friend, his wife, his lover… His.
♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡
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Next in this series;
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chrissturnsfav · 11 days ago
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𝒾𝓃𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈 | 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰
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as you scroll through your phone looking at pictures of perfect skinny girls, you can't help but compare your curvy body to theirs and wish you were as beautiful as them. but your boyfriend knows exactly how to make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.
ᰔᩚ requested from @littlestella2010: Can you write a Matt x fem reader and she is chubby and I don’t know you write smut I prefer smut but you don’t do smut fics can you do fluff
ᰔᩚ bf!matt, soft!matt x chubby!reader, fluff, body image issues, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), creampie, praise kink
ᰔᩚ w.c. 1,684
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you scroll through your instagram feed, the bright, curated photos of skinny, effortlessly beautiful girls filling your screen. they pose in trendy outfits, smiles wide and radiant, their confidence practically glowing through the photos. as you swipe, a familiar feeling settles in—an ache of insecurity that wraps around your heart like a heavy blanket.
you glance down at yourself, feeling the snugness of your clothes. the way they hug your body, the tiny rolls that spill over the waistband of your jeans. it’s hard not to compare, especially when every post seems to scream perfection. your mind races with thoughts that echo too loudly: “why can’t i look like that?” “what are they doing that i’m not?”
you take a deep breath, trying to push the feelings aside as you put your phone down beside you, but they linger. the laughter in the photos, the vibrant energy—it all feels so far removed from how you see yourself in the mirror. you wish you could feel that same confidence, that same ease, but instead, you feel like you’re living in a shadow, just out of reach.
as you lean back against the soft sheets of matt's bed, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body beside you. the dim light casts a gentle glow, making his room feel intimate. you catch him stealing glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“hey,” he says softly, a hint of concern in his gentle voice as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “you okay?”
you nod, but there’s still a flutter of insecurity in your stomach.
he senses it, the slight shift in your mood. "something seems wrong, what's up baby, talk to me," he asks gently, shifting on the bed to sit directly in front of you.
you shrug, staring down in your lap as your eyes move along the small curves of your stomach, "just...there's so many pretty girls on instagram. and they're always skinny. i wish i looked like them..." you express softly.
you pick up your phone again, handing it to matt to look at some of the instagram posts of the perfect looking girl you were stalking.
he holds your phone in his hands, swiping through the pictures. “i see. those girls are pretty skinny,” he says, his tone gentle. “but you know that doesn’t mean anything, right?”
you shrug, feeling a lump form in your throat. “they look...they just look perfect, and here i am looking so much heavier than them. it just sucks, makes me feel...ugly," you mumble.
matt’s expression shifts to something more serious, gently gripping your chin and lifting it so your eyes are on him. “no, listen to me,” he says, taking your hand in his free one and squeezing it firmly. “you are not ugly, you're beautiful. and i mean it. your curves are perfect baby, you don't have to be skinny to be pretty."
you meet his gaze, searching for sincerity, and find it there—deep and unwavering. “really?” you ask, a mix of hope and disbelief in your voice.
he scoffs, “of course,” he replies, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “i love everything about you. its not all about looks, baby. the way you're so kind to everyone, the way you laugh, all that other shit. that's what matters to me most."
his words wrap around you like a warm hug, and you can feel the tension in your chest begin to ease. “but those girls…they look so perfect.”
matt shakes his head, leaning in closer. “what’s real is so much better. you’re real, and that’s what I love. and you're still beautiful on top of it. trust me, you don’t need to change a thing. i wouldn't lie to you and you know that. i'm not saying this to just try and make you feel better, i'm being 100% honest with you."
with his reassurance, the weight of your insecurities starts to lift. you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling grateful for his presence. “thank you,” you say softly.
matt's arms move around you, pulling you closer to him like a koala bear as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt comfortingly, "don't thank me, i'm just telling you the truth."
you pull away from his embrace, your arms still around his shoulders as you gaze into his eyes and take in the pools of blue. matt smiles softly at you, "want me to show you how perfect you really are?" he asks, a hint of lust in his gentle tone.
you nod with a hint of pink creeping on your cheeks, a bashful smile on your lips as you feel desire slowly running through you. matt smirks softly as his hand slides to your waist, fingers tracing the curve.
as he leans in closer, you can feel the heat between you, the tension crackling in the air. his lips brush against yours, soft and inviting, and you melt into the kiss, feeling cherished and adored.
“you deserve to feel amazing,” he murmurs against your lips. “and i'm gonna show you just how pretty you are.”
with every gentle caress and reassuring kiss, he makes you forget your worries completely, allowing you to embrace the moment fully. in his arms, you feel desired and gorgeous—just as you are.
the kisses grow a bit more hungry, his tongue massaging your own as his fingers creep below your top and they slowly run over your now hardened nipple.
he leans further into you, not breaking the kiss as he mumbles against your lips, "lay down for me."
you oblige immediately, letting your body fall against his bed as he hovers over you. his lips are soft against yours as his hands rest on your tits, brushing over your nipples that make you shiver beneath him.
he pulls your shirt over your head before pressing his lips lustfully against yours again. one of his hands move to unbutton your jeans and tug down the zipper as your thighs burn with need for him.
his lips move down to your jawline to leave wet kisses along it, then moving down to your neck. your hands are behind his neck, gently toying with the brunette strands as your eyes flutter shut, tiny whimpers escaping your needy lips.
"you're perfect," matt murmurs softly against your collarbone, his fingers tracing the curves on your stomach as his other hand pulls your sticky panties down.
his lips move down to the valley between your tits, his hand caressing one of them while his other remains on your waist.
your body is aching with desire, fingers now tugging softly at his hair and he smirks against your skin, "your curves are so pretty," he mumbles, fingers tracing your underboob.
his lips then move to your stomach, kissing every curve there is as he whispers, "wish you saw yourself how i see you."
moments later, matt's jeans and boxers are discarded somewhere on the floor. your thick thighs rest on his shoulders as he moves gently, but quickly into you. you pant, moaning softly at the ecstasy as he watches above you with a soft smirk.
his hands grip your hips tightly, watching his hardened dick move and out of your sopping pussy as small grunts leave his lips, "see, so pretty," he groans lowly, your hands resting behind his neck as you moan.
"so curvy 'n perfect, i love you," he pants as his pace quickens, watching your fucked out face twist in pleasure.
"i-i love you," you respond in a whimper, your half lidded eyes opening to look at him through blurry vision.
matt smiles softly at you as he breathes heavily, "just as beautiful as those other girls," he grunts deeply, moving his face in the crook of your neck as he kisses it deeply.
you moan softly, his breath on your neck making you feel weak while you grow closer with each movement he makes.
one of his hands move to your thigh on his shoulder, picking his head up and leaving sloppy kisses against the skin, "such thick thighs my girl's got," he murmurs in a grunt.
his praising words only make you grow closer to the edge, your moans squeaky in pleasure and euphoria, "f-feels so good," you breathe out.
matt smirks softly against your thigh, "yeah, it does, right?" he mumbles in a breathy moan. "wanna make my curvy girl feel beautiful."
your thighs begin to burn, your orgasm seconds away as your hands move to cup his face, turning it to look out at your twisted expression, "i-i'm...m'gonna cum," you say in a choked out moan.
"mhm, go ahead pretty girl, make a pretty mess on me," he mumbles in a deep grunt, feeling his own high approaches as well.
your jaw falls open, legs shaking on his shoulders as he grips your thighs with a smirk at your expression. your high pitched moans are like music to his ears, his climax moments away at the sight of you cumming so pretty for him.
"look so pretty when you're cumming for me, m'so close," he pants, his actions growing messy and quicker leaving you moaning softly as you come down from your high.
your thumbs brush against his cheeks, watching him get closer and closer as he grunts deeply, fingers digging into the soft skin on your thighs.
"shit," he hisses deeply, thrusting one last time into you as his eyes roll back and he releases his thick load inside of you. he pants as he pulls out, watching his seed drip out of you with a soft smirk.
he looks back up at you, all messy and tired from the events that just transpired, "you okay?" he asks softly, leaning his face close to yours, his breath fanning against your face.
"yeah," you breathe out, "you make me feel so pretty," you smile, your hands still cupping his face.
matt smiles in awe at your words, pecking your lips lovingly, "good, that's what i wanted to hear," he mumbles against your lips.
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𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this was such an adorable request! i hope you all liked it, wanted to get it up before halloweekend bc i will most likely be very inactive and getting plastered LMAO.
thank you for reading!! <3
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@chrissturnsfav ™
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notmuchtofind · 1 year ago
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"you're doing a sex scene?!" | d.s
word count: 1.8k
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tw: mentions of manipulation and aggressive behaviour
synopsis: drew reveals his role requires a sex scene and this causes explosive disagreements | slight fluff slight aggressive
you place the bag groceries on the kitchen counter and begin a sigh of relief, the lift in your apartment block is broken and climbing 5 flights of stairs with 3 bags of groceries isn't so fun..
As you walk over to your hallway to kick off your shoes you hear a few thuds at the door, in a beat you're so familiar with. You were expecting Drew around 9ish, you quickly check your watch to see it's 8:47pm... you giggle to yourself slightly and grin with excitement "he's early" you mumble to yourself . A wave of eagerness rushes over you as you lean over to grab the door handle and twist the recently locked door. opening the door, you look up to see Drew, all sun kissed and beaming. He's been in South Carolina for a couple months shooting the latest season of obx so it doesn't surprise you to see his slight tan, you'd imagine he's topless half the time, so it explains itself...
"baby!" he exclaimed with a devilish yet blissful look on his face
"I've missed you!" you say whilst being engulfed into a hug by drew, you feel his arms wrap around you, becoming tighter with time as you stand there swaying back and forth for a while... He places his hands on you shoulders and pushes you back slightly so he can begin to look at your face.
He places a kiss on your forehead "i've missed you y/n/n" he mutters, he looks almost taken back by you, as he makes eye contact, forcing nerves into the pit of your stomach.
"trust you to come 5 minutes after I've just had to carry all the groceries up the stairs by myself!" you tease 
"work those muscles baby" he chuckles
After a few long weeks of being away from each other it's nice to be back in each other's company, Drew helps you put the groceries away and you quickly hop in the shower, you change into your trackies and settle on the couch with Drews head in-between your legs. you run your hands over his buzz cut hair, feeling the individual strands poking at your palm whilst you binge watch.
"hey y/n/n" 
"mmhm?" you murmur
"i've been meaning to mention...I think, maybe, like the next season of outer banks; rafe develops a love interest and I... um-" 
you're suddenly all ears "a love interest?" you interrupt, sitting up slightly, causing Drew to sit up so he's now facing you on the couch.
"yeh, I think so?" said with slight tension
" but I think Jonas is wanting a few urm...like, a few" he stutters and your eyes widen "some sex scenes between me and Fiona..." He paused as you gave him a slight glance
"You know Fiona, right? you met her when you came to visit me shooting last month?" he questions
Yes, of course you know Fiona, is he kidding!?? she's gorgeous, she's bubbly and she's funny she's-...
'fuck, am I jealous?' you think too yourself
"umm, yeh Fiona, she was really nice when I met her" you state through gritted teeth
drew chuckles nervously "I just thought I should let you know...I mean obviously it's all professional but you know... I-"
"No, don't be silly, I know drew. It's your job. I expect it...obviously " you say, getting up off the couch and heading over to the open plan kitchen...'did that come off slightly passive aggressive?' you think too yourself.
Drew leans back into the couch, watching you from afar, you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you grab a glass from the cupboard.
you're aware it's his job, but surely anyone in this position would feel slightly jealous, he's going to have to act intimate with someone and it's then going to be seen by the rest of the world, you're unaware of how sex scenes operate...how far will it have to go and how much skin will be seen?! uncontrollable thoughts run through your mind, you find yourself questioning the love Drew has for you. Are you good enough? Will an on screen romance become an off screen one? In all fairness, Drew and the cast spend more time together within the 6 months of filming than you and Drew do within that 6 months alone...you feel yourself snap.
by snap I don't mean scream, nor shout, nor cry. 
However, there is a slightly toxic side to you, one which is created by past relationships, people that have made you feel less than. Before you met drew, you'd been through some shit and it's always been difficult for you to trust...you're subconsciously 'triggered'
" She's pretty right?" you say, turning to Drew and catching his eyes with yours.
you stand there with an empty glass on the counter as you wait for his response.
"umm.." he stutters, taken back by your question
"she's a nice girl y/n/n...why?"
you nod slowly, pouring a drink into the glass..."yeh,she's a nice girl" you repeat, again, through gritted teeth
Drew squints his eyes over at you as he tries to figure out what your trying to do..."listen baby, its professional, you can't-"
"I can't what?" you interrupt with a slightly raised voice 
There was a silence that filled the room.
"I'm going to bed," you murmur as you grab your glass off the counter and take your first step towards your bedroom.
"y/n/n?" drew exclaimes, but you ignore him
"fuck sake" you hear drew mutters under his breath, followed by a sigh as he tilts his head back into the couch. 
Darting your head over to his direction, you interrogate.
"Am I too much for you?" you exclaim 
"what?" drew says confused whilst frowning "no y/n I-"
you interrupted "so why are you making me feel like you dealing with my emotions is a chore?!" 
"Yes, I'm slightly pissed off drew. but there's nothing I can do about it. just let me have some time, don't sigh at me like I'm so difficult for you?" you say, raising your voice slightly more. He stands up and raises his hands slightly in-front of his chest whilst he gestures "are you fucking kidding me?" he chuckles sarcastically. "I've hardly said a word this whole time, you're being manipulative y/n. stop?" he demands 
"manipulative? drew? really?" 
Drew walks over to you, and you can now see slight anger in his eyes, his energy feels cold. 
"yes!" he exclaims, he comes close to your face and continues to gesture "asking me if I think she's pretty? What kind of question is that? you're trying to catch me out y/n?!" he lashes
"I was just asking you a question drew I-"
"are you fucking kidding me!? you want me to turn around and tell you that, yeh! yanno what, I cant wait to fuck her!? is that what you want? please tell me y/n '' drew shouts.
you're taken back by his aggressive body language and his raised voice and the words he's just spoken. you can feel slight tears forming in the back of your retina, the ball in your stomach grows bigger and you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You're not usto arguing with Drew so explosively, you're not used to seeing his aggressive body language and if you're honest, it scared you. you could either lash out, you could scream...but you're suddenly engulfed by a wave of upset.
"I'm going to bed" you state. turning on the balls of your feet to continue to walk down the hall. A single tear escapes your eye but you're waiting to reach the bathroom before you can let all your emotions overwhelm your being. you didn't give yourself time to see the expression on Drews face after he'd stopped shouting but you didn't have to look to tell that he instantly regretted what he said, you could feel his energy change as you walked away.
_________________
you've turned to face the wall, struggling to sleep when...A few thuds at your bedroom door, in the beat you're again, so familiar with. you haven't been able to fall asleep and to be honest you were hoping Drew would knock and come in, he knows you hate sleeping without resolving an argument. it could be the biggest argument or the smallest argument you've ever had but you always make sure to have it somewhat sorted out before either of you say goodnight, whether he's 3000 miles away or just next door.
"hey y/n/n" drew whispers as you heard the door shut quietly behind him but you didn't turn around. "hey...are you sleeping?" he questions before you feel the bed slightly dip and a creak from the headboard.
It takes you a minute  but you eventually turn around, to be greeted by the back of Drew, he looks to have his head in his hands sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm awake" you mutter.
He turns slightly, greeting you with an apologetic smile, he then goes to grab your exposed arm and rubs it with his thumb. his energy is warm and calm, much different too before. it makes the nerves form again in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies. "Listen baby" he states "I'm sorry about the shit I said and urm... the way I raised my voice. my actions were out of order and for that i'm sorry..." he sighs apologetically 
There was a slight silence whilst you thought of what to say, but before you could speak he began again "you know I love you? right? It upsets me that you worry about my opinions on anyone else because, I'm sorry but, in my mind no one compares to you y/n/n, I honestly do think you are. thé. most." drew emphasises "perfect girl in the world for me" he finishes, looking at you with a devilish grin 
he knows how to capture your heart...you roll your eyes playfully trying to shy away from the fact he's made you weak... whilst a smile creeps upon your face you push his arm and chuckle slightly.
you sigh.
"i'm sorry about my outburst, it was out of order" you admit "I was slightly jealous and I-"
"only slightly?!" drew says with a sarcastic shocked faces as he interrupts you, playfully teasing
"fuck off" you chuckle, pushing his arm
"Yes, it's because everyone wants you...what can I say, it's hard being me!" rolling your eyes, teasing him back
He engulfs you into a hug and plants kisses all over your face and neck, almost like he's attacking you. you giggle and say stop, but really you need him to carry on. 
"fuck! I love you drew" 
"fuck... I love you" he reiterates.
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illusioninfnty · 16 days ago
Text
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!
જ⁀➴ Brothel : Day 17
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feat. Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower ᯓ★ Rhaenyra shows you and Alicent a new kind of fun to be had.
warnings! : NSFW 18+, pre-timeskip, semi-public sex, facesitting, cunnilingus, breast play, 69ing, fingering, dom!Rhaenyra, switch!reader, sub!Alicent
ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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The cool air of the night sky hits you all at once, a stark contrast to Rhaenyra’s warm hand clasped in your own.
“Princess, are you sure this is a good idea?”
Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at you, pulling on yours and Alicent’s hands as she guides you all through crowds of boisterous smallfolk.
People were celebrating—for what exactly, you didn’t know—with the way that people stumbled through the streets, cheering as they clutched their pints of alcohol.
“Someone might recognize you,” Alicent pipes in quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes shift all around.
She pulls at her hood again and Rhaenyra lets out an annoyed sigh. “Trust me. Where we’re going, no one cares who I am.”
You and Alicent share a confused look as Rhaenyra leads the two of you up a small staircase, knocking on a fairly plain-looking door. It opens within mere seconds, and before even stepping in the stench of sweaty bodies and the sounds of loud moans key you to exactly what kind of place you’re about to enter.
“You brought us to a brothel?” you gasp, raising a hand to your mouth. Alicent averts her eyes next to you, a blush appearing across her features.
Rhaenyra smirks as she leads you two in. “This is the only place in town where we don’t have to worry about being caught.”
She gestures a hand out in front of you, and you and Alicent survey the scene. To your surprise, no one even bats an eye in the direction of you three.
Alicent is the first to speak up again. “...And why a brothel?” She doesn’t sound accusatory, but curious, rather.
Your princess friend weaves you all in between couples fucking until you reach a large bed behind a curtain, the space only illuminated by candlelight. She sheds her cloak, throwing it off to the side.
She then goes up to Alicent, unfastening the buttons on hers. “We deserve to have some fun before we’re all married off.” She eyes you. “Don’t you agree?”
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to be intimate with your two best friends. You three were already closer than what was typically seen in other young women your age. There were lingering stares, and hands that stayed on each other’s bodies for just a second too long. You would sometimes wake up with faint dreams of familiar hands caressing your body.
When you don’t respond right away, Alicent elbows your side, whispering your name harshly. 
Rhaenrya chuckles. “I figured.” Finally, she takes off your cloak. She doesn’t stop there, however. You gasp as your friend begins to undo the lacing of your underdress, her fingers ghosting your neck causing you to shiver. Alicent stares at the two of you with wide eyes as your nude figure is revealed.
Rhaenyra leans into you from behind. “Take off her dress, and then lay down on the bed,” she whispers in your ear.
You inhale sharply as her hot breath tickles your earlobe, and you obey silently. Alicent jumps when you begin to take her undergarments off.
“How are you feeling?” you whisper to her.
“Nervous,” she replies. “But…I think I’ve been really wanting this.”
“Me too.” You smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek as you take your place on the bed, back against the plush white covers.
Rhaenyra stares down at you like a predator ready to claim its prize. She lowers herself down, and with no warning begins to feast on your cunt.
You let out a loud gasp that practically becomes a yelp, throwing your head back and clamping a hand over your mouth in surprise. The sensation of her tongue toying with the most sensitive parts of you is even greater than you could have ever imagined. Heat envelops your entire body, and your free hand claws at the bedsheet, desperately for some stability.
Alicent takes a seat on the bed next to you, near where your head is positioned. Her hand reaches down to hold yours, intertwining your fingers together.
Your back arches as Rhaenyra’s tongue is relentless, loud and messy as your cunt grows wetter each second. Alicent’s hand tightens in your grasp, and you can practically see how her breath quickens as she stares down at Rhaenyra devouring you.
“Alicent.” Rhaenyra’s voice is low and suggestive. Her mouth leaves your cunt and your hips buck up, still chasing the feeling. “I want you to sit on her face.”
“S-sit?” she stammers.
“Place your cunt where her tongue is and let her lick you like I am to her.”
You whine hearing that, the thought of having your two best friends so intimately close to you feeling like straight out of a dream. Alicent, despite the redness that takes over her face, adjusts herself to be over your head.
“Come closer,” you croon, running your hands over her legs, enjoying the way she shivers at your touch.
Rhaenyra hums as she watches the two of you, relishing in the way you two interact with each other, yearning for each other’s touch.
“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” Alicent asks you hesitantly.
“If this is the way I part from this world, I would have no regrets.”
“D-don’t say that!”
You giggle as you pull her cunt down onto your face, licking at her arousal that drips down the corners of your mouth. Alicent moans, her fists digging themselves into your hair as she swivels her hips wildly on top of you.
You groan into her cunt as Rhaenyra continues her assault on your own. You match the pace of her tongue, a comfortable rhythm being enacted that has both you and Alicent squirming.
“So good,” Alicent whines. Your hands tighten on her thighs, focusing on her clit, satisfaction arising in you as she whimpers when you nip at the bud.
In her jerky movements, Alicent ends up leaning forward, her head moving closer to your stomach. You reach your arms up to fondle at her breasts, tweaking at the nipples.
She goes to sit up instinctively, but Rhaenyra keeps her head down, placing a palm on the back of her tresses and lowering her to your cunt. “I want you to eat her cunt.”
You feel Alicent’s breath stop, her body going rigid above you. “But I’ve never—”
“Your Princess commands it.” Those words typically hold weight, but by the airy tone of Rhaenyra’s voice you can tell that she isn’t being serious about that.
But Alicent obeys nonetheless, and a lighter, more feathery sensation hits your core as she begins to explore your cunt with her tongue. Rhaenyra guides her head as you buck your hips up.
“More,” you moan desperately against Alicent’s cunt, trying your hardest to reach your peak.
“So needy.”
You whine as Rhaenyra lifts Alicent’s head from you but the sudden feeling of two of her fingers entering your cunt replaces the emptiness inside of you.
“Come here,” you hear Rhaenyra say softly, and the moans of your two friends and the wet sounds between them as they kiss have you feeling hot all over.
With your two friends engaged in their passionate exchange and Rhaenyra’s fingers deftly curling in and out of your cunt, you’re not surprised when your orgasm hits you at full force. Your arousal gushes out of you at the same time that you hear Alicent let out a high pitched squeal and her own juices release onto your face, where you lick up whatever you can.
Alicent soon removes herself from her position on top of you, rolling down next to you, panting heavily.
As the two of you recover from your orgasms, Rhaenyra lies on the bed, on the other side of you.
She chuckles. “It was well worth it, wasn’t it?”
You and Alicent share a look, realizing you’re on the same page. You turn back to Rhaenyra, placing her shoulders down on the bed as you crawl on top of her.
You smile teasingly at her as Alicent’s hands start to move their way up her legs. 
The blush is no longer present on Alicent’s face as she looks to take matters into her own hands. “We still have to take care of you, don’t we, Princess?”
The moans from the other patrons outside the curtains spur you on as you and Alicent aim to please your princess.
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