#I just want to pick her up and carry her and dance her around | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sluttywoozi · 2 months ago

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(Boy)Friend Material | Part II | csc x f!reader

Part I

Seungcheol really thought that, having met you on a dating app, you'd be more into, well, dating him. He supposes he should have made sure you knew that's what he thought you were doing.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.2k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: elevator makeouts, minor safe sex discussion, lil tiny mention of birth control making reader depressed, restraining, oral f. rec., vaginal fingering, squirting, sex with a condom, crying during sex

Reader Notes: referred to with she/her pronouns, has two cats, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by cheol, wap

Seungcheol is still fucking floored that he’s been dating you without your knowledge for four months.

All this time, he’s feared that you weren’t as into him as he was into you. What else was he supposed to think when he was constantly the one reaching out? He was the one making the dates, and inviting you to hangouts with his friends, and asking if he could come over and spend time with you.

He tried not to mind that it was always him hugging you, him wanting to hold your hand, him touching you in all the little ways people in relationships do. He told himself that he just hadn’t discovered your love language yet, and that once he did, things would change.

Honestly, if you were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have stuck it out so long. He was willing and able to because you’re you, and he likes you so damn much.

You got his attention effortlessly with your opener, and the way you committed to the bit instead of backing down or changing the subject kept him interested. Then when he met you, you were somehow even funnier and prettier in person, and he was fucking enchanted. As soon as you parted ways, he was trying to figure out how he could see you again, dreaming up different scenarios and cycling through ideas until finally, he just asked. You said yes, so he kept asking.

And now here he sits on your couch (where he can be found most Sundays), playing with your cats and listening to your musings as you pack your weekend bag. He doubts you think he can hear you or you probably wouldn’t be asking yourself, “Comfy or sexy?” out loud. He’s not sure which you pick but he’s kind of hoping for comfy because that’s always been sexy to him, the surety that you’re comfortable around him and cozy as can be.

It’s been a while since his last relationship and he’s not a serial dater like some of his friends, so he was a bit out of practice when he met you. Still, he counted himself lucky that you grew to be so comfortable around him after only a few weeks, though now he knows it’s because you thought he was just your friend.

He regrets that it took him thinking you wanted to break up to finally be honest about feeling like the relationship was one sided, because everything could have been resolved so long ago.

All the times he’s thought about kissing you, he could have. Every morning that he’s surprised you with your favorite iced latte, every flower garden that he’s ever brought you to, every movie night that he’s looked over at you and watched the colors dance across your face in the darkness. He could have been kissing you for months, and you could have been kissing him back.

He mourns the lost time, but part of him can’t be upset this miscommunication happened because it’s made him move with purpose. He’s constantly thinking of you, always trying to be what you need, and he honestly isn’t sure he would know you this well if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself worthy.

It’s not like he’s going to stop trying to prove himself now, but it helps to be reassured that your withholding nature wasn’t because he likes you more than you like him, it was because you didn’t know he likes you at all.

He feels so juvenile talking in terms of like, but he’s a little scared to introduce love to the equation. He could so easily define his feelings for you in that way, but it’s been four months of dating you without you dating him back, and he’s reluctant to take that leap without being sure you’ll take it with him.

After he bore his soul to you, though, you said all of those things, told him that you don’t ever want to let him go, which sounds a whole lot like a love confession just minus the actual word…

Bluebell paws at his hand, asking for attention, and he grants it, trying to shake off worries that don’t hold weight anymore. Poppy sprawls against his thigh, purring so loud he can feel the vibrations.

This has been enough, he tells himself. Count yourself lucky that it’ll get even better now that she can knowingly participate in the relationship.

“Ready,” you say in a sing-song voice as you struggle through the door to your bedroom, your shoulder laden down with a duffle and your hand holding your giant water bottle…cup…thing. You’re wearing your favorite lounge set, one he’s seen countless times, but the way the soft fabric clings to the curves of your body still makes his heart pound.

He rises quickly to greet you, sending Poppy skittering off the couch. She darts over to you, yowling as if he committed a mortal sin, and you pout indulgently at her, asking, “Did the big man scare you? Poor baby.”

He doesn’t mind the teasing, especially when you call him big in the process.

Before he gets too wrapped up in staring at you, he strides over, carefully taking hold of the strap on your shoulder and lifting until you slide your arm through so he can shoulder the duffle instead.

“Wanna get a refill before we go? I know you like your water more than mine,” he offers, continuing to say (because you’re so fucking cute when you’re adamant about something), “Even though it tastes the same.”

“It does not taste the same! My water is better and more refreshing!” You claim instantly, walking across the living room to your kitchenette.

“Maybe that’s because I’ve changed your water filter twice since I met you even though it only needs to be changed twice a year.”

“Maybe so, but you’ll change it a third time for our six month anniversary and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” you playfully command him as you fill your monstrous water container.

Six month anniversary. So you really do want to keep him around.

“Yeah, baby, I will,” he sighs, hoping you can’t tell that your little light-hearted threat has him feeling like he could drown, he’s so awash in adoration for you.

“You’ve never called me baby before,” you gasp gleefully, spinning to face him with bright eyes and a wide smile.

“I didn’t know if you’d like it,” he shrugs, a bit sheepish that it’s taken him this long to test it out.

“I love it, baby is my name now,” you tell him, screwing the top back onto your water and sounding so serious, it’s almost comical.

You grasp your cup, holding your free hand out to him for what might be the first time. His heart skips a beat as he takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and following you to your door.

“Bye Bell, bye Poppy, I love you,” you call out, looking over your shoulder to find your cats already asleep in their favorite spots on your mushroom and flower cat tree. He whispers his own goodbye and closes the door gently, pressing the button and turning the lock until it clicks.

Immediately, you’re tugging him down the hall and towards the elevator, a chuckle escaping him at the sound of your bubbly laughter and quick footsteps.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you press the button and chant at the machine, bouncing in place beside him.

“Excited?” He teases, amused by your lack of patience.

Your head turns at the speed of light as you look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Aren’t you?”

He would be sarcastic but it sounds like your heart is primed to break, and he can’t risk hurting you just for a joke.

“More than I can say,” he answers honestly, expecting your smile but not the way you hustle him into the elevator and back him up against the wall, wrapping your arm around his neck and looking away only to press the ground floor button.

“You gonna kiss me or not?” He murmurs, his eyes already on your lips as you get close enough for him to feel your chest against his.

You answer without words, your perfect lips soft and unyielding, his hand dropping to your hip to tug you into his body as your fingernails scratch at the short hair on the nape of his neck. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and drags a sigh out of his mouth, one that you swallow with a needy gasp.

He lowers your duffle to the floor, stepping forward until he’s got you against the wall and sliding his thigh between your legs to see what other sounds he can summon from you as his passion starts to overflow. His lips move against yours insistently, a fire lighting up in his veins when you wilt into him and let him take control, the transfer of power mouthwateringly sweet.

And then you pull away. You pull away and he tries to chase you but you stop him with a hand on his chest, and he won’t push you, he would never push you.

“Everything okay?” He pants, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and images of you that fill it.

“Yeah, it’s just- we’re here,” you whisper, blinking at him and glancing over at the elevator doors.

The open elevator doors.

The lobby is empty, but if Seungcheol is being truthful, he thinks he wouldn’t really care if people did see.

You’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. What’s so wrong with it?

Then again, part of him does want to keep you all to himself, kissing in elevators included. Which is why he’s quick to step away from you and take your hand again, grabbing the duffle before pulling you through the lobby and to his car.

He’s not in such a rush that he won’t still open your door for you, waiting as you get in and gently shutting the door before tucking your bag in the backseat and jogging around to the driver’s side. He closes his door quietly even in his haste, not wanting to startle you or make you think he’s upset in any way.

His hand finds your thigh again after starting the car up and getting on the road, the silence that fills the space anticipatory instead of stifling like it was just an hour ago. He finds himself clenching his jaw and bouncing his left knee, counting down the traffic lights that sit between your place and his until finally, there’s only one left.

It’s red when he rolls to a stop, and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that he swears if he looked down, he’d be able to see it beating. He glances over at you and finds you already staring at him, which has happened more than a few times in the months that he’s known you. This time is different, though, because you don’t pretend you weren’t looking, or start rambling nervously, or even look away.

You just meet his gaze and let him see everything. Your nerves, your desire, your impatience, he sees it all, and feels it all himself. For perhaps the first time since he met you, he knows for certain that you and him are on the exact same wavelength.

He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice the light turn green until the car behind him honks, and that disturbance is still barely enough to make him tear his gaze from yours. His eyes reluctantly return to the road as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and presses the gas pedal, closing the distance between the light and his parking garage as quickly as the speed limit allows.

A long minute passes and he’s pulling into his designated parking spot, his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open before the car is even off. Sometimes, you’re distracted and he gets to open your door for you, but this isn’t one of those times. You’re out just as fast as him, meeting him at the trunk and taking his hand.

Together, you speed walk to the door that opens into his hallway. You pass through first and then he does, your pace getting faster the closer you get to his place until finally, finally, he’s unlocking the door and beckoning you inside. He pauses to slip his sneakers off at the rack and you follow suit, the sight of your shoes next to his lighting up the part of his brain that craves domesticity with you.

You don’t come over as often as he goes to your place so when you slow, he takes the lead, his hand still holding yours tightly and his heart still racing.

He doesn’t quite mean to press you up against the wall but he takes a step forward as you take a step back and then it’s just too easy to lean in and taste you again, your lips supple and your sigh sweet.

The kiss starts off slow, tame, but it’s not long before he’s inching closer and sucking at your bottom lip, his tongue gliding along yours when you open your mouth and let him in. You’re so warm and soft against him, your breasts flush with his chest and his dick starting to throb against your stomach, the combination of sensations making his head spin.

It seems he can’t get enough of you now after what feels like millions of missed opportunities, millions of times he’s wanted his lips on yours and his hands on your body. He’s lost in you before he knows it, near mindless with desperation and devotion, his hunger for you so overwhelming that he fears no amount of you will ever be enough.

It’s never been like this before, nobody else has ever made him feel as if he would suffocate without their air or perish without their touch, but here he is, kissing you like you’re breathing pure oxygen and gripping your hips like he’ll fade into nothingness if he lets go.

He knew you were special to him but he didn’t know he would need you like this, and the realization is enough to make him pull back, saying through sharp breaths, “Maybe we should slow down, I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush.”

You gaze at him, almost through him, and say, with great care, “Seungcheol, I’ve wanted your dick inside me since we met. If you want to slow down, we can, but if I had it my way, we’d be moving even faster.”

And fuck if that isn’t enough to spur him into action, to make his cock twitch in his jeans and his hands fly to your waist, a rough, “Jump,” escaping his swollen lips.

You gasp but wrap your legs around him when he starts to lift you, his grip shifting to your thighs as you vine your arms around his neck, seemingly holding on for dear life. He’d die before dropping you so you have nothing to worry about, but he’s too focused on getting you to his bed to inform you of that fact. He also maybe likes feeling you cling to him like this too much to give you any reason to stop.

“We need a condom, right?” He checks as he walks, fairly certain the answer will be yes.

Jeonghan bought him a box when he first started seeing you, the exact size he needs and brand he likes, and handed them over with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the time, but he’s thankful for him now because he never would have bought them himself, too fearful of jinxing the situation.

“Yeah, I stopped my birth control, it was making me hella depressed. Is that- I mean, are you okay with using one?” You ask, though you absolutely don’t need to.

“Baby, all I care about is making you feel safe. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll pull out, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You’re the best boyfriend,” you sigh, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he crosses through the doorway to his bedroom.

He left it relatively clean, thankfully, and there’s nothing embarrassing out, unless he counts the picture of him and you that he got framed last month to keep on his nightstand. You see it when he carefully deposits you onto your back on the mattress, your face twisting up like you might cry.

He’s alarmed until you say, “I have that photo framed on my nightstand.”

The fact that you have one is enough to make him smile but the fact that you picked the same picture is enough to make him fucking beam, his lips stretched too wide to kiss you even though he really wants to.

He tries anyway, his smile fading as he braces a hand next to your head and presses his mouth to yours, climbing up on the bed when you grip his shirt and start to pull him. He’s imagined this so many times, pictured you under him and on top of him and in front of him (face down, ass up as he slides inside of you).

He’s made himself cum to the thought of you in this bed, and now that he has you here, he almost doesn’t know where to start. You seem to have your own ideas and desires though, and he’d give anything to find out what they are.

So, like Seungcheol always has, he just asks.

“You said you’ve wanted me since we met… What have you thought about?” His voice is ragged when he speaks, deep, but he thinks you like it, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before your breath leaves you in a sigh.

“Lots of things,” you whisper, your hands skimming down his chest until they find the hem of his shirt and start to push it up. He sits back on his knees between your legs and hauls it off, fighting a smirk at the way your eyes grow hazy.

You hesitate to put your hands on him, so he takes one of them in his own and presses your palm to his stomach, his muscles jumping at your warm, gentle touch.

“Like what?”

“Like… how big you probably are. If you’d be soft and sweet or if you’d be a little rough, a little mean.”

Following your words, he drags your hand down and lets you feel him, his dick hard and pressing into the zipper of his jeans. You can’t cover all of it, but you close your fingers around the shaft as best you can and rub firmly, one, two, three times.

“Fuck,” he sighs as you squeeze, the pressure making his eyelids flutter as pleasure sparks within him. “Which do you want more? Soft and sweet or rough and mean? I can be whatever you want.”

“You’re already all I want you to be, Cheol, so just be you.”

God, you’re going to be the end of him. Death by swollen heart.

“A bit of both it is then,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, shifting his grip to your wrist before pushing your hand up to rest beside your head. He does the same with your other hand, leaving you unable to move your upper body.

He’s about to break away to check in, but you melt into the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, tugging his hips into yours with a soft moan.

The sound sends a lick of heat down his spine, his dick pulsing in time with his heart and so hard, it almost hurts. He breathes a shuddering sigh into your mouth and grinds into you, wishing his jeans could magically disappear so he wouldn’t have to stop kissing you to take them off.

The denim is getting to be too restrictive though, especially when he’s dying to feel you with no barriers at all. So he tries to pull back, but you whimper into his mouth and hug him closer with your legs, and the only way he can respond to that is by kissing you harder and letting his body press into yours.

He’s gone for you for a few more minutes, his jeans all but forgotten as you roll your hips against his and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. The slight sting makes him gasp and dig his cock into you in retaliation, his hands tightening around your wrists when you just push back and bite his lip again.

It feels almost impossible to pull away from you now but he can’t take it anymore, the clothes need to come off, yours in particular. He’s imagined this too often and wanted you for too long to make this a quick, messy, fully-clothed fuck. You deserve better, you deserve everything, and he’s going to do his absolute best to give it to you.

So he breaks the connection, ignoring the whine that escapes you to pant out, “I’ll kiss you again when we’re naked, promise.”

“Yes, oh my god, take your pants off,” you reply in a rush, your eyes lighting up as you attempt to free your wrists from his hold. He releases you immediately, but he climbs off the bed before you can wrestle his jeans down, his hands finding yours and pulling until you stand with him. With a laugh, he says, “I said ‘when we’re naked,’ baby. That means you, too.”

“Strip me then,” you raise your arms, a challenge in your gaze, and he can do nothing but accept it, tugging your shirt up and off and freezing in place when he sees what you have on under it.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, staring at the cherry red lace that encases your breasts. There are delicate little bows on the straps and the lace is so fine that he can see right through it, could probably rip it without even trying.

“Did you wear this for me?” He asks absentmindedly, his eyes caught on your tits as they rise and fall with your breathing.

“Yeah, I bought it when we started talking. I thought you’d like it,” you answer softly, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your lounge pants and pushing them down just enough for him to get a peek of the very same red. “It’s a matching set.”

His knees weak at the thought, he sits heavily on the mattress, setting his hands on your hips and guiding you to stand between his legs.

“Can I see?”

“That’s kind of the point,” you whisper like it’s a secret, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as he starts to pull your pants down. They slip off easily and pool on the floor, leaving you nearly bare before him and more bewitching than he could have ever imagined.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he sighs out, feeling almost dazed as he takes the sight of you in, his thumbs tracing over the bows that sit on the front of your hips. He sinks his fingertips into you, squeezing to feel the give of your flesh and using all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing the lacy panties right off.

He could (and would) buy you a new set, but you bought this with him in mind, and had to wait so long to wear it for him. It’s too special for him to damage it just because he’s desperate to see you bare.

You must be able to read his mind, taking your hands off his shoulders to reach behind your back and undo the clasps, the bra loosening on your body before you shrug it down your arms and toss it on the bed.

Seungcheol finds himself spellbound once again, captivated by all the skin before him, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze making his breath catch in his chest. “Can I touch you?”

“I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you answer immediately, gasping in relief when he smooths his hands up to cover your breasts. He cups them, testing the weight, and squeezes gently, already obsessed with the feeling of your soft, supple skin under his palms. His thumbs drag over your nipples, circling them until you let out a quiet little whimper, one that he would give his life to hear again.

“Lay down for me, baby,” He requests, needing you spread out before him so he can fully drink you in.

Forgetting a change in position means he has to stop touching you, he pouts when you step out of his reach, though he’s distracted almost instantly by the cheeky cut of your panties.

He stands on knees that are still slightly weak, getting out of your way and watching as you climb up on the bed. He tries not to ogle you but your ass looks so fucking biteable from here, and he can’t even let himself focus on the space between your legs because he just might combust if he gets a good look.

You settle on your back in the center of the mattress and he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of you in his bed. He’s wanted you in it for months, and not just for sex, but for cuddling and reading together and falling asleep in each other’s arms, too. So much time has been wasted, but he won’t let it bother him, not when this literally feels like a dream come true.

He starts moving toward you, trying to formulate a game plan for how he can kiss your stomach and suck one of your nipples at the same time, but you hold a hand out and say, “Stop.”

Every muscle in his body locks up, his heart pounding in anxiety that he’s done something wrong, that you’ve changed your mind about him, that you-

“Don’t look so worried, Cheollie, I just want you to take your jeans off,” you soothe, making him sigh out his stress and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Listen to me, Seungcheol. I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. I like you in a way that is concerning to my friends. I like you more than I have ever liked anyone else. My crush on you is deeper than the Mariana Trench,” you say emphatically. “I will tell you this until you believe it.”

Fuck, he feels like he might cry.

Hearing these words from you is affirming beyond belief, soothing to his very soul, and the steadiness and truth in your voice as you said them is what gives him the courage to admit it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers quietly, his eyes still closed. He hears rustling, envisions you making your way to the edge of the bed, and he’s not surprised when he feels your hands take his.

“I know I’m in love with you,” you whisper back, your fingers intertwined with his and your voice just as sure as before.

He blinks his eyes open, finds you staring up at him with a teary, affection-soaked gaze, and can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss stays chaste and soft even though your tits are out and he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, this moment so precious to him, his desire takes the back burner.

Until you pull back and tell him, “Now take your pants off, please. I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Fuck the back burner, you just lit the stove on fire. He unbuttons his jeans, the fly barely halfway down before he’s shoving them off and stepping out of them, kicking them away like their presence offends him. You didn’t ask him to, but he sheds his boxer briefs as well, feeling his cock pop up and hit his stomach before it hangs heavily between his legs.

Your eyes grow wide and you open your mouth to say something, but he can’t stop hearing, ‘I’m so fucking wet for you,’ the words seared into his brain forevermore.

“Let me eat you out?” He practically begs, willing to ask again on his knees if you want him to.

“I love that you ask, but you don’t need to anymore. Just do what feels right and I’ll stop you if I don’t like it,” you promise, laying back and lifting your ass for him as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to tug them down.

And shit, they’re soaked, fucking sodden with your arousal, the lace sticking to your pussy as he peels them away. He can feel his mouth water when the scent of you fills his nose, leaving him breathless and near brainless with need for you.

Sinking to his knees, he gently pushes your thighs apart to reveal the prettiest fucking pussy he’s ever seen. Maybe he just thinks that because it’s yours, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re glistening and open and all for him.

He’s always imagined himself having some amount of finesse when he finally got his tongue between your legs, always pictured going slow and taking you apart piece by piece, or at least pacing himself even a little bit. Now that he’s here, with his hands on your thighs and his face just inches from you, he knows that won’t be the case at all.

You smell too fucking good for him to hesitate any longer, his tongue darting out and dragging from your opening to your clit. He can’t hold in the groan that leaves him at the first taste of you, his cock twitching as your arousal coats his taste buds, heady and rich and perfect. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in your cunt, pushing your thighs up to your stomach so he has more room to work.

He feels your hands against his, feels them hooking beneath your knees to hold your thighs up for him, and he moans gratefully in response, setting his thumbs on either side of your pussy and pulling your lips apart so he can taste you more directly.

He dips his tongue into your entrance and you clench around it, the sensation making him whimper into your pussy and delve even deeper inside. Just this might not be enough to get you there but you taste fucking heavenly and feel even better, and he’s wanted his mouth on you like this for months.

So he allows himself to be selfish for a few minutes, fucking you with his tongue just to feel the way you quiver and squeeze around the muscle. Your arousal starts to leak down his chin and he almost regrets the waste of it, pulling his tongue from your pussy to latch his lips to your opening and suck.

“Seungcheol, please, I need-,” you implore him, your words halting when he fills you with two of his fingers, the digits sinking inside with a squelch. You whine above him and his gaze travels up your body to find your back arched and your kiss-swollen lips parted, every sound that escapes them like music to his ears.

Fuck, you’re a goddamn wet dream.

His fingers curl inside of you, exploring until he finds that patch of nerves along your front wall. As soon as he grazes it, you gasp brokenly and buck into his touch, making him bite his lip and return his eyes to your pussy and the way it swallows his fingers. His mouth finds your clit and suctions around it, the little bud firm under his tongue as he flicks it back and forth, following your sounds to find what you like best.

“Cheol, I-I’m getting close,” you moan out in a warning tone, but it only makes him more determined, his fingertips grinding into you and his lips puckering around your clit. You seem to love it when he sucks in pulses and crooks his fingers into your sweet spot at the same time so he sets a quick tempo, hoping to help you find the edge and then tip you over it.

It happens sooner than he expects, the molten velvet of your cunt tightening around his fingers rhythmically as your cries reach a fever pitch. He doesn’t stop, wonders if he even could when you’re making the noises you are and begging him, “Please, Cheollie, please.”

He would soothe you but his mouth is still hard at work on your clit, his tongue rolling over the bud again and again as his fingers prod that spot inside of you. Soon enough, you can’t speak, just sobbing and sinking a hand into his hair to hold him in place, your thigh falling to rest on his shoulder.

He doesn’t mind the weight, loves your soft skin against his ear and the feeling of you pressing his face into your pussy, as if he’d even consider pulling away now. You want to cum again, he can tell, and he’s not going to stop until you do.

He fucks his fingers in and out of you faster, pursing his lips around your clit and sucking deeply, grumbling and groaning into you in encouragement, his brows furrowed and his vision hazy.

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, growing impossibly wetter and locking down like a vise until all he can do is curl his fingertips into your sweet spot and dig his tongue into your clit. A sharp whine pierces the air and your thigh trembles on his shoulder as you break, arousal gushing out of you in spurts to coat his neck and drip down over his collarbones.

It’s the only flood he’s ever been thankful for, and before you’ve even started to recover, he’s already voicing his gratitude.

“Fucking beautiful, baby. That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god,” he mumbles, pressing kisses along the thigh that rests on his shoulder, withdrawing his fingers to clean them off with his mouth.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whisper dreamily, struggling to lift your head.

He lowers your thigh and rises to his feet, shaking out his stiff legs before leaning down over you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss grows deep in an instant, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you wrap your legs around him and pull his body into yours. His aching dick gets trapped in between until you reach down and take hold of it, guiding it to rest against your hot, wet cunt.

That first bit of contact is enough to pull a low groan from him, the slippery heat of your pussy on the top side of his cock making him throb and leak against you. He’s so fucking desperate for you but there’s only one thing that he wants more than to sink inside of you bare right now, and that’s to respect your wishes (and not get you pregnant… for the next year or two, at least).

Maybe someday he can fuck you without a condom but that day won’t be today, so with great difficulty, he drags his lips away from yours and reaches an arm out to pull open his bedside drawer. He feels around for a second, exclaiming victoriously when his fingers catch on the box before he takes hold of it and sets it on the bed.

Looking back at you for approval, he finds you beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just so you could bask in their light, and fuck, he swears he’d rearrange them all in the shape of you, given the chance.

He fumbles one-handed with the box for a minute, his other hand braced next to your head to keep himself from crushing you, before you take over and tear it open, ripping a packet off the strip and tossing the rest onto his nightstand.

“We’ll need those for later,” you inform him matter-of-factly as you unwrap the condom and reach down to wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s been leaking enough precum that your hand glides when you pump it up and down, and it takes an astounding amount of self control not to fuck into your grasp as if he’s never been touched before.

You place the condom at his tip and start to roll it on and even that is heavenly, your touch electric and your eyes bright like the summer sun when your gaze meets his. He feels you line him up, his cock jumping at just the thought of being inside your perfect cunt, barrier or no barrier. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips into yours, and he takes that for the hint it is.

Sucking in a deep breath, he starts to sink into you, the head of his cock pushing through the tightness of your entrance to disappear inside of you inch by inch. He goes slowly, both to give you time to adjust and to give himself the opportunity to get it together, the blazing heat and intoxicating grip of your pussy wiping out every coherent thought in his brain. There’s a stretch but it’s eased by your arousal, and the way he can feel you relaxing and opening up to accept him is nothing short of exquisite.

“How does it feel?” He gasps out raggedly, watching your face as he finally bottoms out. Your eyebrows are scrunched up and your pretty lips are parted, soft breaths escaping as you hitch your thighs up higher on his waist and let your eyes blink open.

They’re full of tears, making him blanch and immediately start to pull his hips back, sure that he’s hurting you and you’ve been unable to even speak through the pain to tell him.

“No, stay! Stay, Cheollie, it’s fucking perfect,” you plead in a broken voice, hugging him closer with your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Then why are you crying?” He asks, confused and still slightly worried though the fluttering of your walls around him is enough to make him want to cry too.

“I’ve just wanted you for so long, and you make me feel even better than I ever dreamed you would,” you tell him through a wobbly smile. “I think you’re my missing piece.”

“Baby,” he sighs lovingly as he melts against you and drops down to his elbows to press his lips to yours, the movement burying him just a bit deeper inside and making both you and him moan in pleasure.

He doesn’t think he even knows words that could explain how flawless, how right you feel around him, but he can at least try, for you.

“Being inside of you is like… coming home. Like I’ve been wandering in the cold my whole life and I finally found somewhere soft and warm and safe to rest. I kind of want to never leave,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes as he speaks.

“You may not be able to stay forever but I’ll always want you to come home again,” you promise him gently. “You will leave enough to move, though, right? Because-”

Laughing, he squeezes his eyes shut and steels himself before pulling his hips back a few inches, the drag of your clenching walls on his cock enough to steal his breath even with the latex in between. He tries to go slowly as he presses back into you, but the igneous embrace of your cunt draws him in with one effortless, gliding thrust.

Somehow, burying himself inside of you the second time feels even better than the first, and it’s easier to withdraw from your warmth again when he realizes that the pleasure will only compound as he moves more and more.

Fighting to keep his eyes open and on your face while he establishes a rhythm, he builds speed until the catch in your breath and the fluttering of your eyelashes tells him he’s found the best pace for you. He can’t make it out more than a couple inches before your legs around his waist stop him, but he loves that you want him inside as much as he wants to be inside, so he just puts more power behind his hips as he slides back in to make sure you feel it.

Time starts to pass and he falls into something like a trance, the feeling of your pussy clinging to him as he leaves and cradling him as he returns hypnotic. It’s almost as if he’s lost the ability for complex thought and replaced it with pure sensation, just acting on instinct now that his brain has been rendered useless.

It doesn’t help that your gaze is deep, mesmerizing, fucking magnetic. He can’t look away, feels like he can’t even blink as he fucks into you, his face close enough to yours that he’s breathing your air. Still, he wants to be even closer, wants to burrow inside of you, climb into your ribcage, and make a home right next to your heart.

The desire is so intense, it’s nearly frightening, but nothing could scare Seungcheol away from you now. He’s yours, mind, body, and soul, belonging to you in a way he’s never allowed himself to belong to anyone else before.

He hates to admit it, but he’s already starting to get close. Lasting has never been an issue for him, even in the past few months when all he could think about was you, but thinking about you and being inside of you are two very different things. Your pussy is goddamn magical, everything about fucking you is goddamn magical, and he fears his only hope is in changing positions.

“Baby, can I- shit, can I fuck you from behind?” He stalls his movements long enough to ask, dreading the moment he’ll have to pull out completely so you can turn over.

“Um, yes but…I honestly don’t know if I can hold myself up,” you reluctantly admit, like you think it’s something to be embarrassed about.

“That’s what pillows and my hands are for,” he assures you, smiling at the way you relax and unwrap your legs from his waist, allowing him to begin the process of extricating himself from you.

Slowly, he begins to draw his hips back, ignoring the alarm bells that ring in his head as he feels his cock leave your heat inch by inch. It’s only for a minute or two, he tells himself, pushing off of you and sitting up so you can get onto your stomach.

He watches your body move as you roll over, his eyes stuck on the curve of your plush ass before you get your knees under you and they shift to the gleam of your wet, fucked open cunt. Keeping his gaze on you, he reaches to the head of the bed and grabs the two pillows that rest there, sliding them under your hips one after another. You sink into position, your back arched and your cheek pressed against his sheet, completely relaxed even with your body on full display for him.

The groan escapes without his permission, the memory of your taste on his tongue making his mouth water. Before he knows it, he’s on his stomach too and burying his face in your pussy, reaching up to press down on the small of your back so you arch even deeper into him.

“Cheol!” You gasp, pushing back onto his tongue when he shoves it inside of you, making him whimper into your cunt as he devours you.

“Never gonna get enough of this pussy, fuck,” he mutters as he shifts his focus to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking in pulses. He doesn’t know how long he eats you out, just that he goes until you’re dripping down his face again and squirming against him, desperate to cum.

“Seungcheol, please, I ne-need your cock, need you to fill me up,” you cry out, reaching back and gripping one of his hands where it holds you down.

His dick jumps and leaks into the condom at your words, the plea in your voice sparking a shiver he feels all the way from his scalp to his toes. Pulling his tongue from you, he rises back up on his knees and shuffles forward, taking hold of his cock and gliding it up and down the seam of you, nudging at your clit.

“Cheol,” you begin, likely about to threaten him. He would love to hear it but your entrance catches on the head of his dick and he can’t resist the alluring, feverish depths of your cunt, sliding inside in one long, ruthless thrust.

You keen when he reaches the end of you but you also tilt your hips to accept the last inch, the snug clutch of your pussy near mythical in the bliss it brings him. With one hand gripping your hip to hold you up and the other firm on the small of your back to keep you in place, he starts thrusting in and out of you.

The tempo he takes is brutal, fierce, the force of his hips impacting your ass making it ripple and bounce as he fucks into you. His hearing is fuzzy with how fucking good it feels but he can still make out the smack of his skin against yours and the slick sound of his cock gliding through your wetness. There’s a squelch every time he bottoms out, and accompanied by your whines and whimpers, all of the noises combine to create a masterpiece of a melody.

Seungcheol truly thought the pause would help but he’s right back where he started, throbbing and leaking for you and so fucking close to the edge, he’s concerned he’ll make it there before you do. Sure, you already came twice, but you deserve a third, a fourth if he can hold himself back long enough - one orgasm for every month he spent not making you cum.

The hand on your back slips around under your hips, working itself down between your legs to find your clit. It’s swollen beneath his fingers, slippery from the arousal his dick keeps pushing out, which only makes it easier to swirl circles into the bud, the way your pussy instantly clenches around him making him moan roughly.

The added resistance just enhances each stroke, your walls trying to suck his cock back in when he pulls out and hugging him tighter and tighter every time he pushes inside again. He fears he won’t be able to make you cum without it making him cum too, but there’s something so poetic about finding that euphoria together that he can’t be bothered about breaking this soon.

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, fairly sure what your answer will be.

“Yeah, Cheollie, wan-wanna cum with you inside me so bad,” you gasp, craning your neck to look back at him. “Thought about it every time I-”

You can’t finish your sentence when his fingers start to move faster, but he thinks he knows where you were going with it.

“Every time you fucked yourself, you wished it was me instead, huh?” He teases a little meanly, knowing he has no room to talk.

Your face crumples as you nod, tears filling your eyes, and he leans down over you, his hand leaving your hip to brace himself so he doesn’t suffocate you. He presses his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, murmuring, “I did the same fucking thing, baby, and I always wanted it to be you.”

“Promise?” You whisper, a vulnerable tinge to your voice. He’s reminded that, until tonight, you had no idea how he felt about you. This is all still new, and he needs to be kind, delicate, reassuring as you acclimate to the reality of him being in love with you.

Stopping all movement so you can fully focus on his words, he whispers back, “Cross my heart and hope to die. Ever since we met, I’ve thought about you, wanted you, dreamed about you. I fell for you. You’re it for me.”

“You're it for me too, Seungcheol,” you tell him gently, before asking, “Can I turn back over? I want you to hold me.”

He answers by smacking one last kiss to your cheek and climbing off of you, helping to roll you onto your back and pulling one of the pillows out from under your hips, leaving you slightly elevated but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Sighing contentedly as he stretches himself out along your body, he slides his forearm under your shoulders to pull you into his chest and holds himself up with that elbow, slipping the other hand between your bodies to guide his dick inside of you.

“Better?” He confirms, grinning when you nod shyly and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs rising to encircle his waist as he sinks back into you. He hopes you feel as held by him as he feels by you, the sheer comfort and safety of your body enough to make his eyes water this time.

He moves slowly, carefully, rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, never leaving you more than halfway before burying himself inside again. The brief pause did wonders for his self control, his release feeling far enough away that he thinks he really might be able to get you there once before he lets you pull him over the edge too.

Until you start kissing him, that is.

Once your lips meet his and your tongue slips into his mouth, every part of him is wrapped up in loving you. There’s not a single thing on his mind except for you, every thought dedicated to kissing you, fucking you, pleasing you, and it feels so goddamn right. Like this is what he was made for.

And fuck if that doesn’t have him closer than ever before, his cock pulsing and leaking into the condom, the latex probably the only thing keeping him from cumming right now. If he could feel you bare, it would be over for him, and as much as he wants to experience you without the barrier, he’s thankful for it.

His fingers settle back onto your clit and start to rub circles around it, his mouth catching the gasp you let out when his hips scoop on the next thrust in and drag the head of his cock against your g-spot.

He can’t hit it with every stroke, not when he wants to get as deep as possible, but combined with the work of his fingers, he can feel you getting closer each and every time he does graze the erogenous patch.

You stop kissing him to tilt your head back and let out a long, high-pitched whine, and he knows it’s almost time. He doesn’t change a thing, not when your nails dig into his shoulders, not when your hips buck into his, not even when your pussy starts to swallow around his cock. He just keeps his steady pace, continues to roll your clit beneath his fingers, and hopes, prays, wishes that pleasure will find you before it washes over him.

“Please, please, please baby, please fucking cum for me,” he begs, every muscle in his body tensing as he fights to hold off his own orgasm. It’s not in vain, thank fucking goodness, because you whimper brokenly as your pussy starts to undulate around him, growing tighter and tighter until he can’t move, can barely even breathe.

You’re cumming, fuck, you’re cumming, and so is he, the pulsating of your walls around him making him surge deep inside and stay there as he fills the condom with his cum, his cock jerking and jumping within you. It’s better than it ever has been, every thought in his head wiped out by pure fucking ecstasy and every muscle in his body tensing then relaxing as he succumbs to the urge to just melt into you and let two become one.

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass before he can pull himself away from you, but eventually you release your hold on him, your arms falling to rest beside your head and your legs gingerly returning to the mattress. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to not be inside of you, but the condom is starting to feel uncomfortable now that he’s softening, especially as full of cum as it is, so he holds the base of it as he withdraws himself from you.

You pout the whole time and he does too, but you say nothing as he gets off the bed to slip the condom off, tying the end in a knot before dropping it in the bin next to his desk.

Seungcheol doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to turn back around, to face you again. When he does, though, you just smile up at him sleepily and open your arms, waiting for him to find his place.

He grins softly and slides back into bed, laying on his back and gathering you up against his chest, humming contentedly when you snuggle into him, your leg tossed over his thigh and your arm wrapped around his waist.

“We should wash up, but I don’t want to move…” he murmurs, lifting his head just enough to press a kiss to your crown before letting it drop back down, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I have bad news,” you say quietly. His heart starts to race and his eyes fly open, his arms tightening around you like that’ll protect him from what you’re about to say.

“What is it?” He asks, hesitation clear in his voice.

“We forgot my stuff in your car,” you whisper nervously, as if that’s something he would actually get upset with you over.

He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him, tinged in both love and relief, though he does muffle it in your hair.

“That’s not so bad, baby. I’ll go get your water and bag, and you start the shower, okay?” he proposes, already planning to jog so he can make it back in time to rinse off with you.

“Okay,” you sigh happily, sitting up and rolling out of bed before prancing over to the ensuite, fully fucking naked.

Yeah, no way in hell is he staying on that goddamn couch tonight.

AN: what a fucking journey this was!! I’m so happy i kept yall updated through it because it was so nice to have you cheering me on and to know you were excited for it to come out 🥺 did i expect it to be three times as long as part one? no! are their feelings a bit dramatic? yes! is this fanfiction? yes, so i can make it as dramatic as i want! people get married after one month, they’re allowed to be in love after four! ps you don’t know how hard it was to keep more breeding kink from slipping into this like it’s borderline impossible for me to write seungcheol without breeding kink but i did my best and i did it for you

all i have left to say is this: you deserve someone who will love you like seungcheol loves reader! you deserve someone who will listen to you and respect you and do everything in their power to make you feel good! that’s what i, user sluttywoozi, wants for you! remember that the next time you think about settling for less than what you deserve!

Taglist: @so-da-1 @plskillme22 @nightshadeblooming @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @gyuguys @jennwonwoo @lelestarmy @disneyprincessshuri @alexbarberry @scoupsjin @sourkimchi @bangrauhl13 @meowmeowminnie @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @lukeys-giggle @polyglot-ton267 @bubbletroubble @bouclesdefeu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ujimatchaaa

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formulawolff · 1 month ago

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nothing else matters — m.v.

pairing: max verstappen x wag!reader

word count: (idek tbh)

warnings: mentions of menstrual cycle, reader is on her period, some cursing, max being tender, bf mode to the max (i think i’m hilarious), tooth-rotting fluff

a/n -> i’m on my period (for the second time this month!) and im miserable rn. (+ fried) so i apologize if this is terrible (i typed it on my phone) i just wanted to write something self-indulgent af.

euphoria radiates off of him, the energy so contagious it brings an entire crew to their feet.

his cheeks are flushed, tinged a rosy hue from the rush of it all. his eyes are bright, shining as the team surrounds him, jostling him back and forth. you can hear his laughter, the way it rings so wonderfully in your ears as they shout his name.

“max! max! max! max! max!”

“all right, all right,” he catches his breath, “let’s not get too excited. it’s only pole.”

“only pole?” you find yourself scoffing as another familiar voice fills the air, “max, this is huge for us!”

“well the race isn’t won yet,” the corners of your lips twitch, a smile forming as max clears his throat, “we can celebrate when we finally win a fucking race.”

christian horner exhales, the remark from max clearly striking a chord, “well, i can’t disagree with you there. all right everyone, let’s get to it. we have a lot to do before the race tomorrow if we want to remind everyone of who we are.”

you remain in the corner of the space, arms folded across your chest as the crew disperses. you take in the way max’s jaw clenches as people flurry around, his gaze brimmed with desperation.

he was looking for someone.

and that someone was you.

however, you don’t move a muscle, sitting as still as possible. another ripple of pain courses through you, yet you clamp down on your tongue. the cramping sensation originates from your lower abdomen, this wave far worse than the last.

hanging your head, tears well up in your eyes. the cramps started just this morning, right around nine. now, the austin sun was dipping below the horizon, promising of dusk.

your hands ball up, squeezing into fists as the pain intensifies. the adrenaline from qualifying was wearing off, and fuck, was it wearing off quicker than you expected.

“hey,” there’s a figure in front of you, his voice soft as he kneels, “baby, what’s going on? do i need to get a medi—“

“no,” you hiss, “i’m fine.”

“come on,” hands envelop yours, “follow me.”

you want to protest, yet he’s already helping you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist. you instinctively lean into him, grateful for his touch. a few members of the crew pause from their work, murmuring among themselves. you shrink a little, shame burning within as max practically allows you to lean against him.

fuck, was this utterly embarrassing.

oh, how the rumors were going to fly.

max verstappen’s girlfriend was so drunk at qualifying that he had to practically carry her out.

what. a. headline.

the walk from the garage to the motorhome is a blur.

before you know it, max has you in bed, prompting you to lay down. you obey, pulling the cover over you as he follows, bringing you in against his chest.

he hasn’t showered yet, and you pick up traces of his cologne mixed with perspiration. his hair is a haphazard mess, ruffled from the gear and his cap. his clothes cling to his body, more than likely from the sweat and heat of the suit.

lips graze your temple, fingers tenderly massaging your scalp.

“what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you shrug, “i’m okay.”

“bullshit,” he tuts. fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to look upward, “what. is. going. on?”

“i started my period,” your lower lip trembles, “and i’ve been dealing with cramps all day.”

“and you didn’t say anything?” concern dances in his intense gaze, “baby, there are medical staff on site who would be happy to provide you with anything you need. i’m sure asking for a couple of pain relievers wouldn’t have been an issue. you’ve been suffering like this all day?”

“it wasn’t a big deal,” you retort, warmth flooding your cheeks as tears overflow, “i wasn’t suffering. it’s just my period. i was fi—“

“don’t say that shit,” he cuts in, “when i saw you, you looked miserable. absolutely fucking miserable. you were nearly curled up in the fetal position in that chair.”

“maybe i just didn’t want to draw any attention to myself,” you mutter, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “i didn’t want to seem like i was high maintenance.”

“baby,” a chuckle rumbles in his chest, “asking someone for some medication or somewhere to lay down is not high maintenance.”

tears splatter against his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut, “now i just feel fucking worse because i took you away from you job. you’re going to get into some shit with the fia and it’s my fault.”

“listen to me,” his arms pull you in even tighter, his mouth planting gentle kisses along your forehead, “are you listening to me?”

“yes,” you nod, sniffling, “i’m listening.”

“when it comes to you, nothing else matters. you are my only priority. ensuring that you’re safe and sound comes first. taking care of you is what’s important to me. i would much rather make sure you’re feeling better than attend a press conference. i’ll deal with the repercussions in the morning.”

“are you sure?” your voice shakes, threatening to crescendo into a sob.

“yes,” he murmurs, “i’m sure. i love you.”

“i love you,” the words are a strangled cry, the fabric now soaked as the tears spill, “i love you so much, max.”

“i love you more,” heated hands find your back, kneading, “what do you need from me baby? say it and it’s yours.”

“i just want you.”

a laugh bubbles up in his throat, “you can have me, but you’re going to get a hot shower. then we’re going to go to hospitality to get you some food. after that, you can have me as much as you want. deal?”

“deal,” you shake your head, “can we get something sweet too?”

“we’ll get all the sweet things,” the words are tender, just what you needed to hear, “and we can pick you up a stuffy from the airport on our way home. we can even look for a trinket or two. the ones i know you like, the sonny angels or calico critters. how does that sound?”

“that sounds perfect,” the tears have ceased, a sense of relief rippling within max, “i would love that, max. thank you for being the best boyfriend ever.”

at that, he can’t help but melt a little at the sincerity laced within your tone, “of course, baby. anything for you. i can’t bear the thought of you in pain or uncomfortable. i’ll do anything to help you feel better.”

“even if it interferes with your job?”

“even if i have to pull out of the race tomorrow.”

“you’re ridiculous,” a light giggle fills the space, max’s lips forming a wide grin, “you wouldn’t do that.”

oh but for you, max verstappen would.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #mv33 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #mv33 rb #mv1 x reader

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mcrveilles · 13 days ago

Text

just this once // ln4

word count: 1.1k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content, clubbing, alcohol includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: the group goes clubbing, things turn heated

PART TWO previous part - next part

tag list: sltwins

You're sprawled across your bed, staring at the ceiling as your phone buzzes beside you. Given your last message to your brother, you already know who it is before even picking it up.

Your cheeks flush at the nickname. He only calls you that to get under your skin, and he loves how much it annoys you. But after what happened between you two, it carries a different meaning to you.

You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The truth is, you are thinking about it. Thinking about him, specifically. How his hands had felt on your waist the last time you'd been together. How his lips had lingered on yours. How much you wanted—Your phone buzzes again.

Your heart skips a beat at that, but you choose to ignore it, tossing your phone onto the bed as you head to your closet.

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yourusername Monaco

liked by user01 and others

yourusername If life gives you lemons, add some vodka and hit the club. 🪩

maxfewtrell stop posting on instagram and get downstairs landonorris squad goaaaaaaaaaaaals 💅🏼 landonorris also🤤 ↳ carlando4ever LANDO WHAT ARE YOU DOING user02 wooooooooooooooow slay user03 mother is mothering

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The music pulses through the club, the bass thumping in your chest, the club now filled with people. You lean against the edge of the booth, sipping your drink, and watch the crowd sway under the neon lights. Then your eyes wander over Max and the others dancing and jumping around like idiots. Their unsynchronized moving makes you laugh and shake your head.

Lando had disappeared somewhere in the crowd, and you’re torn between relief and annoyance at his absence. You sip your drink again, your gaze now wandering away from your group of people, and then you spot those familiar curls. Standing near the DJ booth, chatting with a girl—tall, blonde, and dressed to turn heads. Insanely beautiful. You can feel your stomach twist, but then you remember that you have no right. There are no promises between you and Lando, no agreements. Just one (or well, more) kiss.

Still, when the blonde leans in, you swear you can hear her laughter ringing over the music. Why did you come again? You could’ve stayed cozy at home. You grit your teeth and down the rest of your drink. Being around Lando, especially in a setting like this, feels like playing with fire. It’s setting everything within her in flames. But well, here you are, trying not to let your gaze linger too long on the man who’s occupying your every thought since that night.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Max says, sliding into the booth next to you. His words pull your attention away from the scene across the room, “You jealous?”

“What? No,” you answer quickly, forcing a laugh and sitting up straight. “Why would I be jealous?”

Max, clearly unconvinced, raises an eyebrow, “You’ve been staring at Lando like you’re about to murder him or the girl he’s talking to. What’s up with you two lately? You’ve been weird.”

“Weird?” you repeat, your voice pitching slightly higher. “No, everything’s fine. I’m just tired and Lando talked me into coming.” Max narrows his eyes at that but shrugs. “Alright, whatever, but I’m not carrying you back like last time.” He stands back up, offering you his hand, “Maybe you should join us on the dance floor,” Max suggests, “It’s better than brooding over here.”

“I’m not brooding.” You let out a breath and wave his hand away.

Max raises an eyebrow and mutters out a ‘right’ before joining your friends again. Before you get the chance to react, Lando reappears, sliding into the booth on your other side, draping his arm casually over the back of the seat, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he settles in.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he teases, his voice low enough that only you can hear. You shoot him a look, which makes his silly grin even wider. “I was until I saw your fan club growing,” you reply dryly, swirling the ice in your glass.

Lando’s lips twitch into a smirk. “You’re not jealous, are you?” In return, you scoff, trying to mask the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Please. I couldn’t care less who you flirt with.” To which Lando chuckles and leans closer so that his breath tickles your ear. “Jealousy looks good on you, baby Fewtrell.”

It makes your cheeks burn, but you refuse to let him win. “I’m not jealous.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, leaning closer so his lips brush your ear now. “You sure about that?”

Your breath hitches, but before you can respond, Max reappears, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulders. “What’s going on here?” You look up, “Nothing,” Lando and you say in unison, far too quickly.

“Stop sitting around and come dance,” Max says, already dragging Lando toward the dance floor. Lando shoots a look over his shoulder into your direction—half amused, half frustrated—as Max pulls him away. You roll your eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the way his shirt clings to his back or the memory of his lips on your ear.

When he turns around again and catches you watching, his grin widens, and he crooks a finger, beckoning you to join. “No way,” you mouth, shaking your head. He raises an eyebrow and steps closer until he’s standing right in front of you again. “Come on, baby,” he says, his voice once more, low enough that Max wouldn’t be able to hear over the music. “One dance won’t kill you.”

You look up at him, sizing him up, clearly thinking about your options. Reluctantly, you let him pull you onto the dance floor—close enough to your group of friends, but far away enough. The crowd presses in around you, and it’s impossible to ignore the way his hands find your hips immediately, guiding your movements to the beat.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you mutter, voice barely audible over the music. “I’m not the only one,” Lando replies, coming close enough to let his lips brush your ear. And he stays close, his hands becoming more and more daring as you dance within the crowd. At one point, his hand finds the small of your back, guiding you closer to him as the music pulses around you. Even you dare to be a little bolder and wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely. “Baby,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look up at him, your breath hitching at the intensity in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, Max appears again, squeezing in between you with a grin, “Alright, break it up, you two. Sis, what’s with the face? You look like you’re being tortured.”

Tortured is one way to put it, you think, as Lando steps back smoothly, his expression unreadable. “She’s just not used to fun, Max.” You shoot him a glare, but Max continues to be as oblivious as before, too drunk and too busy scanning the crowd for their other friends.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #f1 x reader #jto

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zegrasdrysdale · 1 month ago

Text

[ honeymoon avenue ] n. hischier

day 6 of kinktober (breeding kink w/ nico hischier)

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico and his new wife celebrate the first night of their honeymoon

warning(s) : smut ! breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk

author’s note : better late than never ig

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

It takes everything in her to not jump her new husband the moment they open the door to their suite at the hotel they're staying at for their week-long stay in Cancun while on their honeymoon. Nico tosses their suitcases and carry-ons into the room before he turns toward her.

Without warning, Nico leans down and picks her up bridal style. She gasps and wraps her arms around his neck. "Nico!" she giggles as he crosses the threshold into their suite. "That was not necessary."

"I just want to make sure my new wife gets the whole experience," he tells her as he sets her back down on her feet while a huge grin forms on her lips. She doesn't drop her arms though. She plays with the hair she can reach on the back of his neck.

Nico kicks the door shut behind him without his eyes leaving her. He studies her face like it'll be the last time he'll ever look at her. "You can take a picture," she teases. "It'll last longer."

"Just trying to get used to seeing you as my wife," Nico replies with a small smile. "Because you're my wife now. You wore white and I put a second ring on that finger. Said 'I do' in front of our family and friends then kissed you. We did the whole thing, and now you're my wife."

She giggles at Nico's words. "You're such a sap," she tells him.

"Mhm," he hums. His hands slide around her waist and he dips his head down so his forehead rests on hers. "All for you so you better not go telling my teammates because I'll never hear the end of it."

"I think they figured it out by the way you looked at me and danced with me when 'Little Things' was playing for our first dance," she tells him. Nico rolls his eyes with a smile. "Just preparing you for when we get back to Jersey and your teammates start messing with you."

He shifts his head to try and kiss her, but she holds him back for a second. "What?" he asks.

"I just want to shower off the travel," she explains. "I smell like plane and I don't exactly want to start our night wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. I have something I packed especially for tonight that I wanna show you."

Nico smiles and nods. "I'll let you take your shower then," he tells her. "But after, I am not responsible for what happens when you come out of that shower. If you come out of the shower in some sort of clothing then I'll be buying you new whatever because I will get my hands on you as soon as you walk out of that bathroom. Full disclosure."

She laughs and grabs her carry-on that contains Nico's surprise. He sheds his jacket as she heads into the bathroom to wash and shave her body. She ties her hair up into a bun so she doesn’t have to wash then blow dry it and postpone their night even more. She quickly makes sure the water is at a comfortable temperature before getting in.

If she's going to do anything, it's make sure she looks good and feels soft for the first night of her honeymoon. She shaves every necessary part of her body and washes every crevice as quick as she can.

She made sure to get a lot of sleep on the plane from Switzerland to prepare for the night because she will not be getting any sleep tonight. Nico can, and will, go all night if she let him. He really does have the stamina of a hockey player, and she thinks she’ll let him go as long as he can.

Once the water gets cold, she gets out. She towel dries her entire body and lets her hair loose. She digs through the bag to pull out Nico's surprise.

It's a white, silky nightgown that falls just below her ass with thin straps on her shoulder. There's a lace trim on the plunging v-neck that matches the lacy white panties she pulls on underneath the nightgown. She puts on some mascara before she leaves the small room and goes back out into the main room.

Nico sits on the bed scrolling on his phone when she makes her way back into the room. She clears her throat to get his attention. He looks up and his eyes widen immediately. She gnaws on her bottom lip and takes short steps toward her new husband.

"You like it?" she asks as she does a little twirl to give Nico a full view of the set.

"It'll look better on the floor," he tells her. His comment earns a little smile from her.

She reaches the bed and crawls up to meet Nico. She climbs onto his lap and straddles his thighs. Her lips ghost the swell of his ear when she says, "Then take it off."

His hands slowly slide up the back of the nightgown. She feels goosebumps rise behind his fingers while she cups Nico's jaw. They share a quick eskimo kiss when she leans back a bit and meets his eyes. Then Nico surges forward to capture her lips in a deep kiss. She hums before she returns the kiss with the same passion.

Before she realizes she does it, she ruts her hips against his. Nico lets out a soft groan and grasps her waist. She keeps a slow pace at first before she gets needy and quickens her pace a bit.

Nico pushes the silky fabric over her head. She puts her arms above her head and breaks the kiss so he can pull it off. The nightgown hits the floor with a soft thud and Nico's lips are on her chest. She runs her fingers through his hair and hums. He's always been a tit kind of guy, and he loves hers. He pays some extra attention to them and she can’t help but smile as his tongue swirls around one nipple while he uses his fingers to play with the other. She can’t help but hum at the sensation.

She reaches down and slides her hands up the t-shirt he has on. Her fingers trace his toned stomach for a second before she starts to push the cotton fabric over his head. Nico pulls away from her breasts for a second to get the shirt over his head.

Her hips rut against his again and Nico grins at her. “So needy for me, liebling,” he mumbles.

“Always,” she tells him. “I always need you, Neeks. Now more than ever because it’s hot that I get to call you my husband and I have your last name.”

Nico tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and she leans onto his touch. “It’s hot that you have my last name,” he replies. “So hot. Makes me wanna fuck you full of my babies so they can also have my last name.”

They’ve talked about having kids, but they both wanted to wait until after they were married. Well, now they’re married and the idea of Nico giving her babies sounds like the best idea in the world.

“Fuck me full of your babies, Nico,” she tells him. “Fill me up and fuck me.” She drags a finger over his cheekbones and jaw.

“That what you want, liebling?” Nico asks as his fingers slip into her already ruined panties. “Want me to fill you up with my babies and stay inside you so my come keeps you filled?“

She hums at his words, which shoot straight to her core. “Please,” she sighs. “Please, Nico.”

He starts to pull off the lace she’s wearing and she gets on her knees so he can get it off of her. She kneels between his knees so she can pull off his jeans and boxers. His hard dick springs free and stands against his stomach.

This would be the time that one of them would reach for a condom, but instead Nico flips them over so he’s hovering over her and lines himself up with her entrance. She lets her knees fall to the side so Nico has full access to her.

He slowly pushes into her and she welcomes the familiar stretch. She gnaws on her bottom lip and stares up at her husband. Nico’s hair is on the longer side so it falls into his face. She pushes it back with her fingers and holds it in place. He kisses her wrist as he bottoms out inside her.

Nico lets her adjust for a second before he slowly starts to roll his hips. She lets out soft sighs and hums as he moves. He keeps a steady pace, and it drives her crazy with how slow he moves.

“Nico,” she whines. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“We have all night, baby,” he reminds her. “Gonna take my time with you right now.”

Yeah, she’s not getting a wink of sleep tonight.

She tries to match Nico’s pace but he grasps her waist so she stops. He leans down and kisses the sweet spot right under her ear. “You’ll get what you want, liebling,” he mumbles. “Gonna fill that pretty pussy and fuck you til you’re full of my babies. You’d look so good with a swollen belly, baby.”

Her entire body shudders at his words. “Nico,” she sighs. “Please. Please, please.”

He grins and captures her begging lips in a deep kiss. He quickens his pace again but continues to move deeply into her. The bed creaks gently as his pace gets a little bit faster.

Her fingers curl in his hair and doesn’t let him get too far. She pulls him down so their chests are pressed together. Nico deepens the kiss and hooks one of her legs around his elbow so he can move even deeper into her.

“Oh, fuck!” she cries out against his lips. “Nico. Neeks.”

Nico smiles into the kiss that follows. “You can’t wait to be filled with my babies,” he mumbles between kisses. “You want to carry my kids, don’t you?”

“I do,” she says for the second time in 24 hours. “Fuck, Nico.”

He lifts himself up so he can move quickly.

Signs of a pending orgasm show themselves soon after. Her legs begin to shake and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. Both of their breathing becomes labored as they both chase after their respective climaxes.

She ruts her hips against his, slowly working her way up to match his pace.

The room is filled with the sounds that pass their lips and the sound of the bed hitting the wall behind their heads.

Nico slows his pace but continues to move deep inside her. He hits her sweet spot and cries out, "Fuck! Nico. Oh my God. Don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, liebling," Nico pants. "Come for me. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."

He keeps his pace and it's not long after when she clenches around his dick. Nico's name falls from her lips as her entire body shakes as she comes. Her vision whitens for a split second.

Despite being half out of it, she feels Nico fuck her through her orgasm. She feels when he comes deep inside her and she hums at the feeling. Nico slows down and his pace gets erratic as he comes down from his own orgasm.

She lays in bed while Nico goes to get a cloth to clean her up. She can't feel her legs, and finds just enough strength to lift her head up. She looks down between her legs to see Nico's come dripping out of her. The sight is nearly enough to rile her up again so she puts her head back down and lets out a soft sigh.

Nico gently cleans her up when he gets back with a cloth. She winces when he touches her already sensitive clit. "You okay?" Nico asks.

"Mhm," she hums. "Give me a second. That was definitely a nice way to start our honeymoon."

"There's a lot more where that came from."

"Oh, I'm aware," she giggles.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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halfmoonaria · 2 months ago

Text

chasing

pairing: cairo sweet x female reader

summary: cairo finds herself doing something she’s never done before.

wordcount: 3.3k

Cairo always got what she wanted.

She knew how to bend people to her will with a well-timed glance, a dangerous smirk, or a few whispered words that could send chills down anyone's spine.

Manipulation was an art she had mastered, her every move calculated and deliberate. She could sense the shift in a room the moment she walked in, how people instinctively gravitated toward her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the way people danced around her, eager to be on her good side.

So, when you, the new student walked into the room, confident and stunning, Cairo was certain you'd be no different.

She knew she'd have your attention in no time.

However, you didn't fall into line like the others.

You didn't focus on her the way she expected. Sure, you smiled, you were kind, but you treated her just like you treated everyone else.

You were friendly with everyone.

Too friendly, in her opinion. And that didn't sit right with her.

You had a way of floating between conversations, effortlessly charming everyone with your smile, your laugh, that way you had of making people feel seen. It grated on Cairo. Not because she didn't like it—no, she was impressed. Intrigued, even. But you treated her like everyone else.

And Cairo wasn't "everyone else."

She didn't want to be just another face you smiled at before moving on.

From the moment she set her sights on you, Cairo had already mapped out the game plan.

She'd sweep in with a little subtlety, make sure you knew that your attention should be on her. That she wasn't just another person you smiled at and moved on from. But every time she tried to catch your eye, she found herself met with the same warm smile you gave to everyone else.

It drove her insane.

You weren't playing the game right.

At first, she tried to be subtle, thinking she could reel you in with a little charm.

She'd linger near your conversations, leaning in just enough to draw your attention, flashing you a smile that usually sent people stumbling over their words. But you never did.

It irked her more than she'd ever admit.

One afternoon, she caught you at your locker, her presence lingering just a bit closer than necessary.

She didn't need to say much—just enough to remind you she was there.

"You've been busy," she said casually, her voice smooth. "Making friends?"

You barely glanced at her, smiling as you stacked your books in your arms. "Yeah, everyone here's really nice. It's been fun."

Cairo's fingers tapped against the edge of your locker door, her posture relaxed, but there was something sharp in her gaze. "You've got a lot of people's attention," she added, her voice carrying a faint edge, almost teasing, like she was sharing a secret.

But you didn't pick up on it, just continued gathering your books, flashing her that friendly grin she was starting to hate. "I guess so. I just like meeting new people."

She gave a small laugh, a flicker of frustration flashing through her eyes. Was that all it was to you? Meeting new people?

"I don't usually let just anyone into my circle, you know," she said, her tone light, but the hint of something more serious was there, just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, seeming to miss the point entirely. "That's cool. Everyone needs their space sometimes."

Cairo's smile tightened, just slightly. You weren't supposed to treat her like this—like she was just someone else in the crowd.

She wasn't used to dropping hints that went unnoticed, her usual strategies failing to catch your eye the way they did with everyone else. But there you were, treating her like a casual acquaintance, and it drove her crazy.

But she didn't let it show. She wasn't about to throw away her cool, not yet. Cairo always got what she wanted, and while you were making her work for it, she wasn't about to let you slip through her fingers. Not when she knew, deep down, that she was different.

You weren't cowering, you weren't melting into her hands, and it was starting to make her want to prove herself even more.

She wasn't used to it—feeling like she was chasing someone for attention. Normally, people flocked to her, desperate for even a sliver of her approval. But with you, it was different.

You didn't need her, and that was something she wasn't sure she knew how to handle.

But Cairo wasn't going to let that stop her. If she couldn't bend you to her will immediately, she'd find another way. Because in the end, she always got what she wanted.

And right now, what she wanted was you.

And one way or another, you'd see it too.

Although it took longer than she had anticipated.

Cairo couldn't even begin to admit it—not to you, not to herself.

The pull toward you was undeniable, slowly slipping past her walls, making her do things that were beneath her usual pride.

Things like asking for help. Her, of all people, needing someone else? It was almost laughable.

Yet, here she was, waiting in the hallway after class, her stomach twisting in unfamiliar knots, even as she forced that signature smirk onto her lips—the one she knew could get her anything. Anything, except maybe you.

It was after the last bell of the day, the hallways still buzzing with students grabbing their stuff and making plans for the weekend. You were at your locker, sorting through your books when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Hey, Y/N," Cairo said, her tone as smooth as always, cutting through the noise around you.

You turned to see her leaning against the lockers, her usual confident smirk in place. "You think you could help me with that English assignment Mr. Miller gave us?"

You didn't think twice, returning her look with the same warm smile you always gave her. "Yeah, sure. When do you want to get together?"

The casual buzz of students chatting and lockers slamming continued around you, but Cairo's focus stayed locked on you, her expression cool as if she had all the time in the world.

That simple, unbothered answer made Cairo's chest tighten in a way she hadn't expected.

You didn't know.

You had no idea that Cairo didn't actually need help.

She was the top student—well, she had been until you showed up. Now she was fighting for her place at the top, something she never had to do before. And she hated it. But she wanted this. She wanted you.

Everyone who knew Cairo would've raised an eyebrow at the request. She had history with Mr. Miller, and all it took was one well-timed request for an A to appear in her gradebook. But this time, Cairo wasn't interested in the grade. She wasn't interested in winning over Mr. Miller.

She was interested in you.

When she arrived at your place later that evening, the sight of you waiting on the porch felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

You looked even better—relaxed, confident, more like yourself. Your hair fell effortlessly over your shoulders, and the casual way you leaned against the railing made her stomach flip.

She didn't understand this feeling. It wasn't like her to be knocked off balance. Cairo was always the one in control, the one with people tripping over themselves for her attention.

But now, she was the one who wanted your attention.

"Hey," you greeted her with a casual smile, holding the door open. "Glad you made it. Wanna head up?"

Cairo nodded, trying to mask the sudden rush of nerves that came with stepping into your space.

Your house was warm and inviting, a little messy but in a lived-in, comfortable way. It felt like you—authentic, with no need to impress anyone.

The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, and the faint hum of music from a room down the hall made it feel all cozy.

You led her to your room, where textbooks and notes were already spread out on your desk. You jumped right into the assignment, eager to help, as always.

But Cairo wasn't paying attention to the pages in front of her. She couldn't focus. All she could see was you—the way your lips moved when you explained something, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about an idea.

The worst part was how kind you were. It was maddening. You treated her like anyone else, not the untouchable, intimidating Cairo Sweet. And somehow, that made her want you more.

As you sat next to her on the bed, pointing out sections of the text, your knee brushed against hers. It was a small touch, insignificant to you, but it sent a jolt through Cairo's body. Her pulse quickened, heat rising in her cheeks, and she hated it—hated how out of control she felt around you.

But even more than that, she hated how much she liked it.

You leaned in closer to show her a note you'd written, and your breath was warm against her skin.

She barely registered the words you were saying. All she could focus on was the way you smelled, the warmth of your body next to hers, and the soft brush of your hand as you passed the paper back and forth.

She wasn't used to feeling this way—this fluttering in her stomach, the racing heartbeat that accompanied every one of your smiles.

You were turning her on, plain and simple. Cairo wasn't used to being the one who got flustered, but there she was, chasing after your attention, craving every little bit of affection you gave without even realizing it.

And it wasn't just about how hot you were, though that was undeniable. It was the way you treated her like she was just another person—no special treatment, no fear or awe in your eyes. You treated her like a friend, and somehow, that drove her insane.

For the first time, Cairo felt like she was the one chasing after something, and she hated the feeling.

Yet she needed to be closer, to figure out why you made her feel this way—why you made her feel so out of control.

But you were all she could think about.

Even days after the study session, it was still there—on repeat in her mind. Every smile, every move you made. She couldn't stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried. It was getting under her skin, and she hated it.

Like now, when Cairo sat on the edge of her bed, tapping ash off her cigarette into the dish beside her.

The smoke curled around her, thick and slow, as she took another drag, frustration bubbling in her chest. Ever since that night, she couldn't get you out of her head, and it was starting to piss her off.

From her spot in the corner, Winnie watched, an amused grin tugging at her lips. "You're still thinking about her, aren't you?"

Cairo shot her a sharp glare, but Winnie didn't back down. Of course she didn't; she never did.

"I'm not thinking about her," Cairo said, though the way her words rushed out betrayed her. "I just don't get it. I don't need to think about anyone. People think about me. That's how it works."

Winnie raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying it. "Uh-huh. So why are you pacing around your room, smokin' like it's the end of the world? You've been talking about her nonstop."

"I'm not pacing," Cairo snapped, even though she had been standing and moving restlessly just a moment ago. She sat back down quickly, as if to prove a point. "And I'm not talking about her."

Winnie just chuckled. "Right. You're totally not obsessed with her or anything. Must be why you asked her to help with your English assignment—because you suddenly forgot how to ace essays."

Cairo scowled, taking another drag before blowing the smoke out through her nose. "I didn't forget anything. I just wanted to see what she had to offer. You know, test the competition."

"Oh, totally. You're all about fair competition," Winnie teased, leaning back with her arms crossed. "Except you've always been top dog, Cairo. Why do you care?"

Cairo stood up again, too worked up to sit still, pacing back and forth as she waved her cigarette in the air. "I don't care! That's the point! She's just this—this girl, right? She's new, she's hot, I get it. But so what? So am I. If I wanted her, trust me, Winnie, I'd get her without even trying. It's not like she's some unattainable goddess. I mean, seriously, she's just... just... friendly!"

Winnie snorted. "Oh no, not the deadly sin of friendliness."

"I'm serious!" Cairo shot back. "It's infuriating! She's nice to everyone, and it's like she's not even trying to get on my radar. She doesn't... she doesn't treat me like. You know. Do you know how weird that is for me, Winnie? She just smiles and moves on like it's nothing. And I'm supposed to be okay with that?"

Winnie grinned, clearly enjoying Cairo's meltdown. "Sounds like you want her attention real bad."

"No!" Cairo's voice rose in frustration, and she jabbed her cigarette in the air to punctuate her point. "I don't! I just—if I wanted her attention, she'd give it to me. Trust me, I've done it a hundred times before. But it's like... I don't know. I don't need her to fawn over me, but she should at least... notice me more."

"Sure. Because that totally doesn't sound like you're into her or anything," Winnie said, leaning forward with a knowing look. "You're just mad because she doesn't act like your little fan club."

Cairo groaned, dropping back onto her bed. "I'm not into her, Winnie! God, I can't believe you're even suggesting that. She's cute, I'll give you that, but that's it. That's all it is."

"You sure about that? You've been talking about her for the last 20 minutes."

Cairo waved her off. "I'm venting! That's different. I just don't get how she can walk around acting like I'm no big deal. Like, I could snap my fingers and—"

"—and what, Cairo?" Winnie cut her off, smirking. "You can't force her to like you. And let's be real, you wouldn't even have to try this hard if you didn't care so much."

Cairo took one last drag, stubbing the cigarette out in the dish, her eyes narrowing. "I'm telling you, if I wanted her, I'd have her. She's not some puzzle I can't figure out. It's just... a challenge. That's all."

Winnie shook her head, laughing softly. "Keep telling yourself that."

But even as Cairo tried to convince herself—and Winnie—that she didn't care, deep down, there was that gnawing feeling. The one that made her think of you just a little too often, the one that made her wonder why your smile lingered in her mind long after you were gone.

The next morning, Cairo stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection with a level of concentration she wasn't used to.

She had always been effortless—never needing to try when it came to her looks. But now, she cared. A lot more than she wanted to admit.

The black skirt she chose hugged her hips perfectly, the tiny stripes adding just enough detail to keep it interesting. She paired it with a white shirt, left a little loose, and she made the deliberate decision to go braless underneath.

Just in case you noticed.

Her jean jacket hung over her shoulders, completing the look. It was casual but... intentional. And she hated that she was doing this. But at the same time, she didn't stop.

Winnie stood in the doorway, watching Cairo with an amused smirk. "So... this is what it's come to, huh?"

Cairo shot her a warning glance, but Winnie just laughed. "What? I'm just saying. You've been in front of that mirror for the past twenty minutes, and now you're wearing a skirt? Since when do you care about impressing anyone?"

"I don't," Cairo muttered, brushing a hand through her hair, making sure it looked just the right amount of messy. "I just like this outfit, that's all."

Winnie stepped into the room, folding her arms as she watched Cairo fuss over the details. "Sure, sure. And the whole 'no bra' thing? Totally for comfort, right?"

Cairo's eyes flickered toward Winnie in the mirror, a small frown tugging at her lips. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Winnie said with a grin, "you've never dressed like this for anyone. You're trying to impress her. It's obvious."

Cairo scoffed, straightening up. "I'm not trying to impress anyone, least of all her. I just like looking good. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Winnie teased, leaning against the dresser. "Except you've always looked good without even trying, and now... you're trying. Hard."

Cairo didn't respond, choosing instead to grab her bag and sling it over her shoulder. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Winnie shook her head, still smirking. "Right. Well, good luck with your 'I don't care' look. But if I didn't know better, I'd say you're hoping she notices."

Cairo rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small flare of nerves twisting in her stomach.

She hated that Winnie was right. She was hoping you'd notice. Every time she saw you, your outfits amazed her. Whether it was something casual or a bit more dressed up, you always looked effortlessly put together. It drove her insane how you could look so good without even trying.

And now here she was, doing the exact same thing—hoping her choice of clothes might catch your eye, maybe make you see her in a different light. She was Cairo Sweet, after all. People noticed her. You were supposed to notice her.

As she left the house, Winnie's laughter echoed behind her, but Cairo shook it off. She wasn't doing this for anyone. Especially not you.

But when she saw you that day, dressed in your usual impeccable style, her heart skipped a beat. You looked perfect, as always. And despite her best efforts to play it cool, she couldn't help but wonder if you noticed her, too.

As the day progressed, Cairo tried to play it cool, but the nervous energy buzzed through her.

Each time she caught sight of you in the hall, laughter bubbling around you, she felt that familiar flutter in her stomach. Today, you looked particularly stunning, and it made her second-guess everything.

Finally, at lunch, she found herself sitting across from you, her heart racing as you casually chatted with friends. She watched you, captivated by the way you effortlessly engaged everyone around you. It was infuriating and exhilarating all at once.

"Hey," you said, turning your attention to her. "Nice outfit."

Cairo's breath caught, and for a moment, she felt the world around them fade. "Thank you," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. The compliment, though simple, sent a rush through her, igniting that gnawing feeling in her chest.

You smiled at her, and something inside Cairo shifted. Maybe she wasn't just another face in the crowd to you. Maybe there was something more there—something she had been too scared to acknowledge until now.

As lunch continued, the laughter and chatter faded into the background. Cairo found herself lost in the moment, caught between wanting to impress you and the fear of showing too much. But as you engaged her in conversation, your eyes sparkling with interest, she felt a sense of hope blooming within her.

For the first time, she allowed herself to think that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something special. Something that went beyond manipulation and appearances. Something real.

And in that moment, as you smiled at her, Cairo knew she was willing to take that risk.

#jenna ortega x reader #mabel x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet

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daydreaming-nerd · 7 months ago

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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister)?

Part 2,

Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

AN: I’ve had this idea for a while but after hearing “The Prophecy” on The Tortured Poets Department I was finally feeling inspired to write it. You guys have no idea how much that album is about to influence my writing. Also I have no idea how this is gonna end lol.

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right?

Warnings: smut, unrequited love, situationship, fluff, Lucien is literally and angel I love him sm, did not edit (I am tired)

Word count: 3734

“Please, I've been on my knees. Change the prophecy. Don't want money just someone who wants my company…”

I had known the youngest Vanserra for a while now. I can recall the first time I met him on a lovely day in the spring court when I was visiting with my brother. The man was more than charming, his words nearly had me buckling at the knees. It was around the same time that I had found out that my brother's close friend Azriel was my mate.

I remember the bond snapping like it was yesterday. We were celebrating solstice in the Hewn City and my feet were nearly black and blue from the amount of drunk men stepping on them while dancing. I was about to ask my brother to take me home when Azriel stepped in and quite literally swept me off my feet. He let me stand on his toes and waltz around the room with him all night to ensure that he himself wouldn’t hurt my feet. At some point in the night the bond snapped and I had never been so happy.

Azriel and I had been friends for over 100 years and I had secretly harbored feelings for him for at least 75 of them. To have my brother's best friend as my mate felt like fate. I didn’t tell him that night, something I have regretted for the last 400 years.

Not long after that he rescued Mor and any sparks I thought he felt with me that night were long gone. From that day on all he did was pine for her. I couldn’t blame him, Mor was astonishingly beautiful. For a long time after he saved her I resented her, I felt like she had taken my mate from me. It wasn’t until I realized that she wanted nothing to do with the shadowsinger that my hatred for my cousin dissipated. It wasn’t her fault that Azriel was so smitten with her. It was my fault for not telling him, but now it had been so long since the bond snapped that it seemed weird to bring it up.

So I sat dutifully by his side whenever he needed someone to rant to about Mor. It practically ripped out my heart to hear him talk about how in love with her he was. I was the only person he would open up to like that. He would spend hours asking me for advice on how to woo her, and I grinned and bore it because, at the end of the day, I got to spend time with him.

I had been playing the girl best friend for hundreds of years. The moment I started to feel like he might be losing feelings for Mor in walked Elain. The beautiful sister of my brother's mate. What's worse? She seemed interested in Azriel as well.

Elain was easy to hate. Not just for her flirtations with Azriel but for the way she treated Lucien, her mate. Lucien had so much love for the Archeron, and she waved him off without another thought. I might be able to understand her reluctance to accept the bond if Lucien was a brute of a male, but he wasn’t. He was soft, kind and easy on the eyes.

I found him tossing rocks into the Sidra one day, no doubt pining over how Elain had barley even acknowledged the flowers he picked for her. That’s when I told him about Azriel and I’s bond. From that moment on we spent a great deal of time together, ranting about our unaccepted mating bonds. Even though we spent most of the time bitching, there was happiness. More than I had felt in a while.

Then starfall came…and everything changed.

“You look far too stunning not to be walking in with a date,” Lucien drawled to me from the outside of the townhouse.

I had spent all day getting ready for the annual party tonight. My dress was chosen specifically to catch Azriel’s attention, not that I felt like I would succeed.

“Well finding a date is harder than you think, especially at this hour,” I laugh as I walk through the gate he opened for me.

“Then indulge me,” he said. I turned to find him offering me an arm.

“You want to be my date?” I laugh light heartedly, admittedly smitten by the autumn court male.

“It’s a little last minute but I would be honored to walk into that room with you on my arm,” he said fondly.

I smiled and shook my head at the male before looping my arm in his and allowing him to lead me up the steps to the front door.

“You know, you clean up pretty well Lu,” I cock an eyebrow bumping into him.

“Thanks, your brother sets a pretty high standard as far as attire for this thing. Who knew he was such a fashionista?” Lucien grins before walking in the door arm and arm with me. I don’t even bother stifling the laugh I let out.

The room nearly fell silent at our entrance. Sure Lucien and I were close and everyone knew, but they had never seen us like this. Even Az and Elain stopped their oh so intriguing conversation to ogle. I swore I saw anger flit across Elain’s eyes, like she was dead set on owning both Az and Lucien.

Lucien and I spent the evening as wallflowers, doing our best to stay away from all the happy couples. We had even gotten to the point where we grabbed a bottle of wine off the table and brought it over to our couch, both of us tired of constantly getting up and down for refills.

It wasn’t until Az and Elain not so subtly got up and walked onto the balcony that we decided we had tortured ourselves enough. We promptly grabbed the bottle of wine and waltzed out of the townhouse not even bothering to say goodbye. I supposed it was that exact bottle that did us in.

I placed my hand on my apartment door, swaying slightly from the alcohol rushing to my head. Lucein’s hand found my hip, steadying me. While I assured him I would be fine to walk home alone, he insisted he came with me.

“Thanks,” I laughed unlocking the door.

“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, wobbling himself.

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” I say, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself.

“I had a good time too,” he smiled.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how close we were. Lucien looked down at me, the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. The sudden tension between us was broken when he crashed his lips on mine.

One thing led to another and the next thing I knew I was lying bare beneath him as he fucked me like his life depended on it. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to get laid until he was buried inside me. Needless to say I understood why people said the Autumn Court males have fire in their blood.

That was a year ago and since then Lucien and I had decided to continue seeing each other in secret, both of us needing a way to release built up tension so to say. He often stayed the night and we would spend long hours talking about everything from the books we were reading to politics. The sex was amazing, for both of us, but it was the intimacy that came after that I think we both craved the most. An intimacy I would be seeking out shortly given the current topic of conversation between Azriel and I.

“Gods the other day she was weaning a light blue dress in the garden and I nearly fell to my knees before her,” Azriel ranted to me.

He had been going on and on about whether or not he wanted to finally make a move on Elain or not. And as his best friend I had to hear about every word of it.

“I saw it, it was a very pretty dress,” I acknowledge, turning the page of the book I was reading.

“I swear she blushed when I complimented it too, I think I’m making progress with her,” he went on to say.

“Maybe you should just put yourself out of your misery and talk to her Az,” I suggested for probably the tenth time.

“You know I can’t just barrel in there. She’s scared and I’m not going to freak her out even more. She will come to me when she’s ready. If she’s ready. Gods that’s assuming she even likes me,” he rambled.

I roll my eyes and shut my book so loudly it pulls the shadow singers attention. I give him a pointed look that has him startling back just a bit.

“I know that she likes you Az,” I deadpan.

“How can you be sure though?” he asks, throwing his head back on the arm of the couch.

“Because she would be an idiot not to,” I say with a hint of sadness.

Azriel looked to be at a loss for words, and I realized my words were much bolder than I had wanted them to be.

Clearing my throat I set my book down on the side table, knowing it will be waiting for me when I come back to my brother’s tomorrow. I stand and subtly adjust my dress.

“I have to go, but seriously Az, just tell her,” I say walking over to press a kiss to his forehead.

As I got to walk away I feel him grab my hand, placing a kiss to my open palm, “Thank you for listening y/n, really.” he says earnestly .

“Don’t worry about it Az, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say with a fake smile before setting off towards my modest home.

When Feyre moved into the townhouse I took it as my queue to move out, knowing my brother and his new mate would want privacy. Of course Rhysand offered me mansions and villas but I was content with a townhouse of my own in the middle of town. Big enough to have my own home library, and small enough to not feel so lonely.

I make my way down the cobblestone streets, the faelights casting a warm glow on the ground before me. It was late, and many couples were turning in for the night. I could see some cuddled up on their sofa’s through their windows, others were having a nightcap together outside Rita’s. I saw a couple rocking their newborn baby to sleep on the second floor of their home, and for some reason, that was the one that hurt the most to me.

I sighed as I walked up a few steps to my townhouse door. I unlocked the door and was greeted to the smell of jasmine and vanilla and the sound of a cracking fire. I walk up my steps to find Lucien sitting shirtless on my large bed, his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck. The male was the image of relaxation.

I had given him a key months ago. With the males many jobs, emissary to the night court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin, he needed a place to truly call home. For the past 9 months that had been here, with me. I never once objected to his subtle moving in, it was nice to come home to someone waiting for me, sometimes even a homemade meal. For him it was nice to have a place where he didn’t always have to put on a front. It was a win for both of us.

“When did you get in?” I ask kicking off my shoes.

“Just a couple hours ago. How was Azriel duty?” he asked, setting his book down as I began to strip off my cloak and dress leaving me only in my lingerie. It wasn’t uncommon for us to be so casual with one another.

“Exhausting, did you know that Elain wore a pretty blue dress the other day?” I mocked tossing my clothes into a dirty clothes bin, I noticed his missing shirt was there too.

“Unfortunately yes I did,” he chuckled. “You know what always makes me feel better though?” he smirks.

“I crawl up the bed towards him, “What?” I smile knowing what the answer will be.

“You,” he smirks, grabbing my hips and pinning me to the mattress beneath him, his lips pressing to mine.

“How funny I was about to say the same thing,” I laugh, feeling his lips tickle my neck as he makes his way further down my body.

His mouth trails the inside of my thighs before sliding my panties down my legs, each brush of his fingers from my hips to my ankles feeling like heaven. The male had been gone for a week, and I was desperate for release. He licks a long stripe up my center, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the top. My back arches off the bed and his hands find my waist to pin me down. I feel his tongue begin to lap at my clit as his fingers slide into me, no doubt finding the pool of wetness waiting there.

This is what me and Lu had always been good at, reading each other. When he had a stressful day I always made sure to make him feel good, and when I came back to the house upset he never hesitated to get on his knees for me. There was this unsaid rule that we would always take care of eachother.

Lucien’s tongue continues lapping my clit as his fingers curl to hit that spot inside of me that had me gasping for air. As I started to feel myself getting closer and closer he removed his mouth from me, drawing his fingers out slowly. One thing about hooking up for a year? You learn to read each other's bodies, and lord did the seventh son of Autumn know how to read mine.

“Lu!” I cry out frustrated.

“Shhh my darling,” he coos crawling up my body. “I simply want to cum with you tonight.” he smirked, seething himself inside of me.

“Oh gods!” I cry feeling him fill me thoroughly.

He pulls out and thrusts back in causing me to whimper once more. Mor was right about one thing, the autumn court males have fire in their blood and they fuck like it too.

“I missed you, missed this,” Lucien groans, his face contorted in pleasure as he builds a steady pace.

“I missed you too Lu,” I say through ragged breaths as he fucks into me like his life depends on it. Apparently the time apart made him needy as well.

I could hardly speak as he thrust deeper into me, his hands on my waist holding me steady so tha he could hit me as deep as possible. When I felt myself start to clench around him he doubled over, burying his head in my neck as his hips continued to snap into me.

My hands found his back clinging to the flesh there for an anchor, my walls fluttering around him one last time before I fell apart.The sudden sensation had Lucien biting my neck as he came with a low groan.

We spent a few moments catching our breaths, he pushed up on his arms and moved a stray hair from my face, assessing to see if he had hurt me, just like he always did. When he found no traces of pain in my face he rolled over, taking me with him so that I was lying on his chest.

This was always the part I think we both craved the most. The sex was great, amazing even. But I longed for a pair of arms to fall asleep in, and he longed for someone to hold. Meaningless pillowtalk just for fun.

“I mean it, I did miss you,” I sigh circling my arms around his waist.

“I missed you too, I hate sleeping in the spring court, it’s so cold and dark there now.” Lucien said, staring at the ceiling.

“How is Tamlin?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Terrible,” he muttered. “I had to talk him into letting me stay.” He continues playing with the ends of my hair.

“You’re a good friend for checking in on him though,” I say matter of factly.

“I still wish I could do more,” he sighs, pulling the covers up on the two of us.

“I understand,” I mutter keeping my head on his chest, staring at the fire that roars next to us.

A long beat of comfortable silence passes, normally I would fall asleep like this. I would sometimes wake to him being gone, sometimes he would wake to me being gone. Only on weekends would both be able to wake up and go to breakfast together. This was one of those weekends, but instead of falling asleep, Lucien spoke up.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, not taking his gaze from the ceiling.

“Sure,” I reply, waiting for a nonchalant inquiry. It wasn’t the first time he and I had played 20 questions to get to know each other more, though I thought that after a year of it we knew just about everything there was to know about the other.

“Would you agree that Azriel and Elain are never going to give us a chance?” he asked.

My heart twinges hearing his name, “Well Az doesn’t know, but even if he did I don’t think he would care. I’m not damsel in distress enough for him.” I snort recalling the unconscious type he has.

“I feel the same about Elain, and there’s something I’ve been thinking about, especially this past week,” he continues still facing the ceiling.

I prop my head up on his chest wanting to read his face and his eyes flit to me, “Cryptic Vanserra, but go on,” I laugh trying to break the tension.

“I’ve always been fond of you y/n ever since you visited the spring court all those years ago. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, that admiration has only grown, not to mention you’re a very beautiful female y/n,” he laughs at his own words, a tint of pink dusting his cheek and I can’t help but blush as well. “From the amount of time we’ve been spending together it seems you like me enough, and well…I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he says seemingly avoiding his main point.

I sit up more, intrigued by his words, “What do you mean Lu?” I inquire.

“I was wondering if you would like to be Mrs. Lucien Vanserra?” he finally says and my heart nearly stops at the shocking words. “I know I’m not Azriel, but consider me an alternative. I think we could make eachother genuinely happy, maybe help each other enjoy whatever we have left of this miserable life?” he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty.

I let his words sink in as I stare at the bit of wall behind him. As I consider all that he’s said I realize that he’s right, we do get along. I had spent years trying to find a male to fill the hole Azriel put in my life, but it always felt wrong. It was as if I was taking someone else’s mate, even when the males didn’t have mates. It didn’t feel wrong being with Lucien because I knew that his mate also didn’t want anything to do with him.

I was tired of not always having someone to come home to. Not having someone to go to events with. Not having someone to spend holidays with. Not having someone to call my own. I was tired of being alone, especially since I had been alone for about 400 years, but no longer.

I smile down at Lucien’s nervous face, “I would be honored to be your wife,” I say.

“You would?” he beams.

“I would,” I repeated back to him. “You’re right, we do get along, and I’m tired of being alone too.”

He presses his lips to mine, both of us smiling into the kiss. We would never fill the sadness of a rejected mating bond, but we would be there for one another. I lay my head down on his chest again, feeling the sleep come into my eyes.

“How should we do it?” he asked, tracing shapes on my bare back.

“Hmm,” I thought for a moment. A big wedding seemed odd considering we weren’t mates or anything close to it. Eloping seemed more proper. “I think we should keep it small.”

“Do we tell them?” He ponders the most awkward question.

“We can tell them, but we don’t need to invite them. It can be a modified elopement, they will all know but we can just invite my brother and Feyre, that way we both have family there.” I answer snuggling into his warmth more.

“By the Cauldron I have to tell your brother I’ve been sleeping with you for over a year,” Lucien said anxiously, running a hand down his face.

I can’t help but laugh at his stress, “He might be a little mad, but I’m sure Feyre will be so excited about it that he won’t care.” I giggle.

I feel his body relax under my cheek, no doubt realizing that whatever the High Lady says will be law. He slides a red and gold ring off his pinky finger and slips it onto my left hand.

“Here, it’s a family ring,” he explains looking at the gaudy ring on my hand. While it fits on my finger well the jewel on it takes up my whole hand and looks unnatural. “I know I’m not part of the Autumn Court anymore but it’s all I have.” he continues.

“It’s perfect,” I laugh, inspecting the ill-fitting thing, “it’s an outcast just like us.”

Lucien's soft chuckle escapes him as he plants a gentle kiss atop my head. Tomorrow promises its usual dose of chaos, but that's a concern for another day. Tonight, here in bed with my fiancé, though this isn't the life I envisioned, I find myself flooded with a happiness I haven't felt in ages.

Part 2,

Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202

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lulunothulu · 3 months ago

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“All Your’n”

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley had been best friends for a while. You’d both wanted more but the other didn’t know until you declare him yours after a fight.

Content: fluff, swearing, FLUFF

GIF credit: @betty-draper

Based on the song “All Your’n” by Tyler Childers

It’d been a shitty day.

All day long, you had been dealing with the Dagger Squad and their stupid antics. Everyone was irritating you and you didn’t know why.

No, you knew why.

It was Bradley’s fault.

The night before, you’d watched him flirt with one of the skankiest aviator you’d ever met—Sunny—at Hard Deck. While you two weren’t together, you’d hoped he wouldn’t go so low. Especially with her. He knew you and Sunny had a problem with one another and being your best friend, Bradley had vowed to you he would never fuck with her.

I guess things change.

It started like any night at Hard Deck, Bradley and Jake picking a girl Jake should flirt with and Bradley telling Natasha and Bob he didn’t think Jake would do it.

“He’s being a little too cocky,” you hear Nat tell Bradley. “If he wants the red head to like him, he should’ve just gotten her a drink like a normal guy instead of showing off his darts skills.”

“Wait hold on,” you tell her, pointing to Jake and the red head across the bar. “Look at what he’s doing.”

“That son of a bitch,” you hear Bradley mutter to your left.

Jake had just tapped his cheek, the red head moving to kiss him before he turns his head quickly, catching her lips with his.

“That was annoyingly smooth,” he says with an eye roll. He finishes his beer before turning to the group and asking, “Anyone want another?”

Payback, Coyote, Fanboy, Natasha, and you all cheerfully say, “Fuck yes” causing Bradley to shake his head with a smile and look to Bob.

“Help me carry them all?” Bob nods, following Bradley’s broad and muscular form to the bar where Penny greets them with smiles.

You turn to Nat who’s watching you with a smile.

“Wanna play a game of pool, Domino?” She asks.

You shrug, “Why not? I have to school your ass again.”

“I let you win that one time and now you have an ego,” she laughs.

You’re in the middle of starting the game when you see Sunny walk into the bar and make a beeline for Rooster at the bar.

Her blonde hair was loose, falling down her neck and brushing the seams of her sundress.

“When did she get the time to change into that?” Natasha asks from your right.

“Who fucking knows,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

Behind you, Coyote whistles as Sunny, Bob and Rooster approach with beers in hand. “Damn, Sunny. You look good.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I did it for Bradshaw here.”

Fucking bitch.

Bradley’s brows raise in question as he takes a swig of his beer and hands you yours. “For me? Why?”

Sunny laughs. “I’ve been sending you hints for past few months. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Honestly no,” Bradley tells her. “I’ve had my eyes on someone else.”

At that everyone turns to you, but you’re too busy looking at Sunny. Her eyes narrow on you before she sweetly smiles before wrapping her arms around Bradley’s broad shoulders.

“Can you show me how to play pool?” She asks.

“I guess, Seresin’s better than I am,” he tells her. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

You watch as Sunny leads him to the pool table across from yours, Bradley’s eyes apologetic as he begins to show her how to play.

“Easy girl,” you hear Jake say behind you. You turn to see him sipping his beer, an arm around the red head. “He knows who he belongs to. No need to get worked up.”

“Fuck off, Bagman.” You seethe.

By the end of the night, Sunny was drunk as hell, dancing on tables and doing everything she could to keep Bradley by her side. It was 11:45 PM when you finally had enough.

“I think imma head out,” you tell Phoenix.

“Do you want me to get Bradley?” She asks.

You turn to where Sunny’s legs were propped on Rooster’s lap, Bradley’s hand comfortably on her ankle and smile lazily on his lips.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “Nah, let him have more time with his new girlfriend.”

He didn’t even bother to text you how and if you got home that night. And that’s what was pissing you off the most.

Not that he had broken the one promise you asked him to never do, but that he never even called you to make sure you were alright.

Sunny must’ve been really good in bed. Of course she was. She was the squad’s biggest flirt, and that says something because Hangman is the man-whore.

Anyway, it wasn’t like you stayed up all night waiting for his call.

That would’ve been pitiful.

Your last straw today had been when you saw Sunny and Bradley talking y one of the jets, Sunny’s hand on his chest laughing at something he’d said.

Your blood was boiling. You wanted to slap the smile off her face, or worse pummel her into the ground with your boots.

“Domino,” you hear Natasha call to your left. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think somethings wrong?” You ask.

“Your face is unusually bitchier,” Jake says from behind.

“Maybe it’s because everyone has been annoying the shit out of me,” you spit back.

“Everyone, or Bradshaw?” He asks, a smirk forming.

“Fuck off, Seresin,” you seethe, clenching your jaw from saying it too loudly for everyone else to hear.

“C’mon, Y/L/N,” he starts. “We all know you’re sweet on Bradshaw.”

“Hangman,” Natasha warns.

“What it’s true?” He counters. He points, flicking between you and Bradley behind you. “They’ve been inseparable for years. Plus, we all see the way they look each other. He’s as much hers and she is his. They should just kiss and get it over with. Then, we won’t have to deal with her mood swings when Sunny starts acting a fool.”

“Seresin, shut. The fuck. Up.” You seethe. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I may not look like the brightest, but I have eyes,” he tells you, squaring his shoulders and smiling. “We can see how much it kills you that Sunny—”

“I’m warning you…”

“—has made the moves on Bradshaw, even after you two had that vow,” he continues. “Just go claim him!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP SERESIN.” You yell, causing everyone in the hangar to turn to where you two are standing—Bradley and Sunny included.

Your cheeks feel warm, you know you’re blushing and hard. Behind you, you feel a hand in your shoulder and when you turn, you find Maverick standing there. His face is masked in calm but you know he’s probably as angry as he can be.

“Go take a walk,” he tells you.

You’re shaking in anger and embarrassment, but you nod. Pushing past him, you take off, passing by a smug-faced Sunny and dumbfoundedly confused Bradley.

“See ya, Domino,” Sunny says as you pass them. She laughs before adding, “Fucking psycho.”

That makes you stop in your tracks because what the actual fuck?

You turn to face her, walking right up to her, and getting within an inch of her face.

“What did you say?” You ask.

Fear fills her eyes and she pulls Bradley close to her. “Nothing.”

You look to where she’s holding Bradley by the bicep, then up at Bradley who’s confused and hopefully feeling your disappointment.

You roll your eyes, feeling the angry tears coming. “Whatever. You deserve her.”

You’re halfway to the tarmac when you feel a large hand wrap around your wrist. You’re spun around to face Bradley who looks confused.

“What’s your deal?” He asks. “I didn’t hear from you last night and you didn’t even tell me you left Hard Deck. And now, you’re acting all annoyed and lashing out on everyone.”

“No I’m not,” you respond.

“Don’t think on I didn’t notice your groaning all day, Y/N,” he scolds. “You’ve been on one all day. What’s wrong?”

You rub your nose angrily before shaking your head and turning away from him. “You. You’re what’s wrong.”

“Why?” Bradley’s brown eyes are soft, brows furrowed in confusion and you can’t help but feel the urge to slap the puppy dog eyes out of him.

“You broke our vow!” You spit. “You fucked Sunny even after you said you never would. And then on top of that, you didn’t notice I left or you did and you were too busy with Sunny to bother to text or call me to see if I was alright or if I got home.”

You were pacing, wildly waving your hands as you speak. “And what hurts the most is that you did that without batting an eye. I thought—”

You stop talking. You can’t bring yourself to admit what you’d been wanting to for the past few years you’d known Bradley. You loved him, and you thought he loved you back.

But you guess not.

“You thought what?” Bradley asks, shouting over the jets flying to the left of you. His brows were so furrowed, you thought they’d stay that way.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your anger and frustration.

“I thought you would’ve—,” you start to shout back, blinking back tears. “I thought you would’ve chosen me instead.”

Bradley only stares at you, shocked. You’re a good few paces away from him so you angrily shake your head, wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, and begin to walk away.

But his strong hand on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“What makes you think I didn’t choose you?” Bradley asks.

“What’re you talking about?” You ask. “I saw you with Sunny.”

“Last night, nothing happened,” he tells you.

“What?”

He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his mustached face. “I took her home and then left. My phone died at the bar and I didn’t think you’d be awake when I got home.”

You only stare up at him.

“I was gonna check on you today, but you gave me the cold shoulder all morning,” he goes on.

“You didn’t sleep with her?” You ask.

“God, no,” he smiles.

That changed everything. If they didn’t sleep together, then what did he mean by choosing you?

“What did you mean,” you start. “About choosing me?”

“Y/N,” he starts, hand rising to cup your cheek. “Have you seriously not noticed?”

“Noticed what?” You ask.

“All I have are eyes for you. I have for a long time,” he tells you. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first met you. I’ll love you until my lungs give out. You’re mine, even if you don’t know or feel it. But you are.”

“I’m yours?” You ask, dumbfounded by his admission.

“Yes,” he laughs.

You smile, bringing your hand to his on your cheek. Happy tears fill your eyes as you tiptoe to kiss him, his mustache tickling your nose and making you smile into the kiss. Your heart lurches at the thought of Bradley loving you as long as you’ve loved him, the fact that you’re kissing him amplifying that feeling.

“Good, because I’m all yours,” you smile. “And you’re all mine.”

#fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster imagine #hangman x rooster

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barcaatthemoon · 3 months ago

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act a fool || alexia putellas x reader ||

you make alexia jealous on a night out.

minors dni, 18+ only, smut ahead.

tonight had been a compromise. you had been begging alexia to take you dancing for weeks. she hated going out if she didn't have to. especially in the off season. she wanted to vacation and do other things. there were ample opporunities to go out in the season with the girls, and alexia reminded you of that each time you asked her. tonight however, alexia had come to you to ask if you'd go out with her.

you should have known that alexia's attention would be elsewhere the whole night. it wasn't the same if you were dancing while alexia sat through what was essentially a business meeting all night. you could have gone out on your own any night of the week, but you wanted alexia to spend time with you. that was where your brain had formulated its less than brilliant plan to capture her attention.

at first, alexia was sure that she was just seeing things. unbeknownst to you, alexia had kept a close eye on you all night. she felt guilty about not having any time reserved for you, but she had planned on making it up to you when the two of you left. all of that changed when she saw what you were doing as you darted off to the dance floor.

it wasn't hard for you to find someone to dance with. alexia hadn't been hanging off your side, so everybody assumed that you were single. you had met this girl at the bar, some college student on an abroad trip from america. she was cute, definitely your type, so you danced with her. the dancing had started as fairly innocent fun, but as the music changed, the mood did as well. you knew that you'd be leaving with alexia, but this girl obviously did not.

"come on, let's go. there are too many people here," the girl said as she tried to lead you away. you let her get you off of the dance floor and back over by the bar, where alexia asked you to wait for her when you wanted to leave. you weren't one for drinking on your nights out, a side effect of living with alexia for so long. you could have a good time, being one of the most fun players on the team, but you had also come into a watchful role on nights out, often keeping an eye on players like cata and claudia.

"i want to stay. you can go though," you told her. it was obvious that this girl was done with the club, but she didn't want to leave alone. she was smarter than you assumed because she quickly switched from trying to pull you out with her to clinging to you. that was when alexia ended her meeting to finally attend to you.

"excuse me," alexia said as she slid into the small space between you and this girl. "(y/n), let's go. my meeting is over."

"o-okay." you hadn't expected alexia to be in the rush that she was. she had promised you a dance when her meeting was over, but you knew that wasn't happening as she half-dragged you out of the club. you got the sense that you were in trouble, and that it was only a matter of time before alexia picked a time for the subsequent fight. "how did your meeting go?"

"it's stupid to hold a business meeting in a nightclub," alexia grumbled. you tried to lean into her side, but alexia only started walking faster. between the drinks and your heels, you had a hard time keeping up with alexia.

"ale, please slow down," you whined. alexia groaned as she stopped abruptly to let you catch up with her. you tried to hold onto her hand, but alexia brushed it away. "are you mad at me? i just wanted to dance, and you were busy. i'm sorry."

"stop apologizing," alexia told you. you took that as your cue to shut up. alexia was very obviously tense the entire way home, and all you wanted to do was reach out and soothe her, but you didn't. you sat there silently trying not to let your thoughts spiral out of control until the car stopped and alexia came around to literally carry you inside. "i'm not mad at you, okay?"

"okay," you mumbled sadly. alexia tipped your head back as she set you down on the bed. you looked up at her, almost immediately recognizing the look in her eyes. "oh."

alexia's facial expressions were fairly limited, and so you had a hard time gauging what she was feeling. however, you could always tell whenever you looked into her eyes. the way she was looking at you was lustful, with the slightest hint of jealous anger simmering beneath the surface. you knew that while you were probably in for some kind of punishment, things were still good between you and alexia.

"i'm going to make myself a drink, and when i get back, i want you stripped and bent over," alexia told you. she walked back into the living room, and you immediately got started. spanking felt like a fairly easy punishment for what had happened, so you weren't going to complain. maybe alexia was hornier than you thought she was and would go easy on you for the night.

you knew this position well, just like you knew the waiting game alexia was going to play with you. she silently entered the room, but you didn't dare turn away to look at her. you could hear alexia hum appreciatively just a moment before her hand came down to strike your ass. you bit your lip, holding in the grimace at the slight sting of pain.

"tough girl, hmm? it's okay, this isn't what i had in mind," alexia told you. this time, you did glance behind her with a look of confusion in your eyes. "after that little stunt you're not getting off this easy. you won't be able to walk tomorrow when i'm done with you. how does traffic look?"

"green lights all ahead," you answered. alexia cradled your cheeks as she turned you to look at her. there were no signs of hesitation, so alexia took it as a sign to go ahead. alexia started to move back a bit, which was when you felt the sting of her hand as it slapped against your cheek. "still green."

"of course it is you little pain slut," alexia teased. you couldn't deny the allegation, nor would you ever. alexia moved behind you, and as her hands spread your ass cheeks did you realize what your punishment was.

alexia moved slowly, giving you ample time to object. you kept still, refraining from pushing back the moment you felt her fingers press against your hole. you and alexia were no strangers to anal play, but it was generally used as something to push you a little further while alexia fucked you out. she had never really brought up wanting to just fuck you anally before, despite the knowledge that you would let her.

"i want to see what toy you have," you told her. alexia took your hand and guided it back to wrap around her strap-on. you had taken this before early on in your relationship. now, it was primarily used for the rare time that alexia let you top her. it was smaller, probably the smallest dildo that the two of you owned. it would definitely stretch you with the way alexia planned to use it, but you knew that it wouldn't be overly painful. "okay, i can take this."

"i know you can," alexia told you. she'd never give you more than wht your body could handle. even on the nights where you had gone to bed together truly angry at each other, she had still been looking out for you. at the end of the day, no matter what, alexia still cared about you. you could tease her relentlessly, and she'd always stop before you even had to ask.

the stretch of the toy burned more than that of her fingers. even absolutely coated in lube, you could feel every bit of resistance tht your body gave. alexia was still and patient, not really starting to do much more than ease her way inside of you until you started to seem like you were actually enjoying the feeling.

you felt like you were absolutely stuffed, and yet empty at the same time. alexia could see the confliction on your face as she tugged your head back. you were enjoying yourself like you always did when alexia fucked you, but something wasn't quite right. you wanted to feel some part of her in your cunt or at least on your clit.

"it's a punishment, mi cari. you didn't think i'd let you just get everything you wanted, did you? even if you didn't want to leave with that girl, you let her get close. we could have had a very different night, but you just had to act out, didn't you?" alexia's words were all punctuated with thursts that increased in their harshness. she was getting close to pounding into your ass like she did your cunt. still, you didn't feel like you were any closer to cumming than before. your body wanted to react like it was all normal, but it couldn't.

"ale, please, i want to cum. i need to cum. touch me baby, i want you," you whined. alexia just laughed, causing you to let out a completely pathetic whimper. you were a mess with your own arousal dripping down your thighs as alexia practically split you open from behind. you wanted something more, but it never came, and eventually, your body began to adjust a bit.

you knew that different stimulation would lead to different kinds of orgasms. your cunt spasmed and clenched around nothing as you pushed back against alexia. your orgasm wasn't quite ruined, but it definitely felt that way. the strain all of it left on your body felt like you had been edging all night. alexia stopped as your body started to go slack in her grip.

"what do you need right now?" alexia asked you. you laid flat on your stomach, not moving a muscle or making a sound. alexia discarded the strap-on before she crawled into bed with you. silently, you moved to lay your head against her lap, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "te amo."

"i love you too, ale," you mumbled tiredly. alexia leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. you knew what was coming as you started to drift off, but you made no attempt to move away from it as alexia cleaned you up. you needed a shower, but you didn't have the energy to get up, so it would wait until the morning. in the meantime, alexia had no problem wiping your body down and getting you dressed in some warm pajamas.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso smut #minors do not interact #minors dni #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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princessofangiemania · 5 months ago

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𝑺𝒖𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚: 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝑺𝑷 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒑𝒂𝒅-𝒆𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

First and foremost, I would like to apologise for my inactivity ;w; I've been so focused on school, it was HECTIC and boy do I have a lot of success stories, this being one of them. So start of the school year, I wasn't planning on manifesting a boyfriend. I just wanted good grades, beauty and stuff. Long yapping session ahead!!

I was friends with this guy. Our whole friendship started because I was bored and wanted to play cupid (He liked another girl). So I was talking with him a lot, I was his right-hand woman. But this guy, he's not fond of making first moves but the girl isn't either. Long story short, he got rejected they didn't end up together. Let's call my SP "Coco" for good measure. You thought that was the end of it and we just remained friends? Wrong, I started developing feelings for him and womp womp (I actually thought he was physically attractive when I first saw him but backed off when I saw he liked another girl because I wasn't that attached yet). An even funnier story, we're in a four-person friend group. (2 boys and 2 girls), the other two are a couple. So our friend-group was more like a double date if we did end up together. Since my 18th birthday party was coming up, I had to pick a partner for the cotilion. And I picked him (He was convinced) and I even proposed a solo. So while we were practicing, we had lots of moments and I'm pretty clumsy, you can pretty much imagine that. There came our field trip. And it was mostly water sports. After that, we were all given free time to play in the pool for about two hours. I began carrying people randomly and they started doing the same to me. I actually carried Coco too and of course he carried me too. Around dismissal, I switched places with the other guy in our friend group and sat next to him. Average romance anime cliche moment, I fell asleep on his shoulder. To fast forward through, I confessed to him but he gave me a "You deserve better, I love you as a friend" but not a definite no. The rejection is implied but what does our LOA Barbie girlie do? We persist. That time wasn't the best, I was more than awkward around him but all I thought was, "This is for the plot" over and over again.

Like a Wattpad love story, it started picking up on the day of my 18th birthday, when we sang Photograph. Not relevant? It played our part in 18 Roses (In Philippine culture, it is customary for a girl to dance with 18 bachelors to signify her coming of age). And of course, I just had to experience all the cliche moments like him holding an umbrella over me, carrying my bag, going to get ice cream, walking somewhere and exchanging longing glances when the other wasn't looking and it all came down to a pool party we had when the school year ended. I got drunk (My dumbass thought the punch was orange juice and filled my cup all the way through) and I was just mostly chilling by the jacuzzi because of it. Coco over here, if we weren't hogging the karaoke machine, we were just chilling in the jacuzzi by ourselves (And the annoying pick-me girl of the class occasionally) and when I got too drunk, apparently I asked if I could hug him and for the last 2 hours or so, I was just hugging him. It was weird because Coco would usually join water sports going on in the other pool but he decided to just chill with me.

Before we got together, just like how I would write a wattpad fanfiction, there was the mandatory angst misunderstanding. The confession was really something. Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift was playing in the background and we became an official couple at exactly 12 midnight. Now, we're in a happy and loving relationship! Honestly, I was scared of what he'd be like in a relationship (Cuz I thought he wouldn't give me what I needed, E.G. princess treatment) but since I persisted and said to myself that what I wanted would always be given to me, I'm proud to say I'm dating a guy who practically worships the ground I walk on, not afraid to show his affection and respectful. I could go on and on about how good my relationship is how he treats me so well but I'd save you all the sappy stuff.

#Princess Angie's post 💘#manifestation #manifesting #law of assumption #loassumption #loa tumblr #success stories #loa success stories #manifesting sp #answering asks

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gtgbabie0 · 6 days ago

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-Vi x Reader

Synopsis: {The aftermath of the war seems a little more bearable with your girlfriend there by your side}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

need her. Enjoy my lovelies 💕

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The weeks after the war seemed to last centuries, the hours dragged on painfully slow and it felt like no matter how early you went to sleep, you could never get enough to carry you throughout the day— not that sleeping was easy anyway.

The council meetings were stressful, with each member bringing a mountain of different problems that were all so important in their own right— change needed to happen and each moment you weren’t actively working was wasted, or so you say.

However the exhaustion was turning you into a mess, Vi could see it as clear as day no matter how many times you put on that sweet smile and promised her you were ‘fine’ with a warm hand against her cheek. You weren’t fine.

Vi knew you would crash and burn sooner or later, and by the looks of you, it would be much sooner than she’d liked.

“Stupid damn thing.” You huff out in anger, hands trembling in a mixture of pain and frustration as you try to open the gauze— the damn plastic concealing it might as well have been superglued together and your hands just won’t steady themselves enough to get a good hold.

You grasp at the edges of the sink basin, giving up, the porcelain cold against your clammy hands. It was a slight relief, but not enough. With a ragged breath, you drop your head slightly to avert your gaze from your reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t take it, between your injured eye and the ache in your head, you felt as if you were teetering on the line of insanity.

“Here, let me.” The sound of Vi’s soft voice ripples through the tension that clouds you, her calloused hand presses against your upper back and you sigh in something akin to relief.

A strange feeling of embarrassment curls around your already weary heart, how long has she been standing there— watching you crumble?

You shake your head stubbornly, “I can do it myself,” you tell her, in faux confidence— trying to convince yourself, biting down on the inside of your bottom lip as you try to regain control.

You take the gauze packet in your hands once more before tugging it open harshly, your elbow collides into the bottle of antiseptic causing it to hit the tiled floor with a bounce. It felt like the universe was testing you, laughing at how you kept failing.

“I know you can, just let me take care of you for once, yeah?” Vi whispers, picking up the antiseptic bottle and placing it down on the countertop— her hand falling from your shoulder blade to rest on the small of your back.

But you were so tightly coiled with your own maelstrom of emotions that you continue to try and push her away, her hand fighting yours in a push and pull. You didn’t want her to see you like this, you were better than this.

“I can do—”

“Stop it, stop. I’m helping you.” She interrupts you with a sternness in her tone that it takes you aback slightly.

You nod reluctantly, caving in with a shaky sigh as you let her turn you around to face her by your hips, your lower back resting up against the sink countertop and she notices the way you avoid her gaze, it hurts her a little.

A silence settles between the pair of you as Vi takes off the gauze that covers your eye— revealing the patch that protected the sensitive wound from possible infection. Her knuckles brush along your cheek so tenderly that you can’t help but lean into her touch, it was almost an instinct at this point.

“It’s ugly,” you state, looking up at her through your eyelashes as you watch her frown in disagreement with your words, a small scoff escaping her lips.

“It’s not— it’s healing, you’re not ugly.” She tells you, a gentle firmness dancing through her tone as she continues to admire you through loving eyes and your shoulders drop— it’d been far too long since you let yourself relax, the ache in between your shoulders could attest to that.

“Besides it adds to your flair.” She adds with a small smirk.

“My flair?” You repeat through a breathy chuckle, rolling your eye as a smile begins to teeter against your lips. It felt good to have her like this, gently stroking your face, standing close to you… it felt good to lean on her for support.

Vi’s own smile widens at the sound of your chuckle, such a sweet noise that sends a wave of comfort through her chest. Even though you were exhausted and in pain, you still managed to make her heart bleed in all the best ways, although if she’s being completely honest it doesn’t take much at all for you to bring that out in her.

“Mhm, yep, it adds a certain charm.” She nods confidently, her fingertips gently grazing along your cheekbone to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“It also makes the easiest things feel impossible, everything just feels off.” You sigh, tilting your head to nuzzle against the roughness of her palm ever so slightly.

A sympathetic look flashes through her pretty eyes, god knows it was true— too many times had she watched you lose your cool over what used to be 'simple things' as you familiarised yourself with the loss of sight. Her heart broke for you, she hated seeing you like this and she hated not being able to do more for you, to just take all your pain away.

“I know baby, I know— but you’re handling it like a champ,” Vi whispers, letting her hand drop from her face to grab a clean gauze pad, her eyes flickering between yours and her hands as she readies the fabric— offering you a small reassuring smile.

With careful fingers she places the gauze over your eye, securing it down with medical tape and she winces as you suck a sharp hiss from your clenched teeth, your eyebrows knitting together in pain— Vi quickly pulls her hands away, not wanting to cause you any more pain with a soft “Sorry, sorry,”— but you’re quick to hold her hands in your own, giving them both a comforting squeeze.

“It’s okay,” you promise her, looking at her with a faint pleading in your gaze— wordlessly begging her to hold you and not let go, to not pull away, and immediately she knows what you want. She could read you like an open book.

So without a modicum of hesitation, she loops her strong arms around your shoulders to bring you close to her body— wrapping you up in a protective hold and you could practically feel the heaviness on your shoulders lessen as you melt into her with a small pitiful noise that makes her heart clench.

“You’re not alone— you don’t have to do this all by yourself, I’m right here.” She seals the promise with a gentle kiss against your hairline before cupping either side of your face, tilting your head backwards slightly so she can meet your gaze.

Vi watches the way your eye flutters close in contentment when she strokes your cheeks with her thumbs— your fingers grasping at the fabric of her tank top almost as if you were afraid she would slip between your fingers.

But lo and behold she doesn’t, she’s standing right in front of you, cupping your face, with such a reverent expression it causes your breath to hitch in your throat and you think you would cry if you had the energy to.

“Vi,” you breathe softly, a sob threatening to spill over your lips which you conceal with a sigh as she bumps her forehead against your own— her hand rests against the side of your neck before slowly slipping to cup the back of your head, fingertips dragging along your scalp soothingly.

“I’ve got you, right here.” She replies in understanding, pressing her lips to your own in a loving kiss— one that dismantles you completely and you’re finally ready to admit you needed sleep and a day of rest… or maybe two, Vi would be there to ensure it.

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 9 days ago

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I Put A Spell On You.

(Part Two)

Smoke and Rosetta got some makin’ up to do

It was a reflex for him to reach for his revolver. The sound of a withering floorboard caused Smokes to jump up from his sleep and grab it from the side table swiftly.

Click.

He was ready to aim and shoot down. Smokes’ unwavering gaze in that dimly-lit room cased out every dark corner and his ears listened for any signs of an intruder. He had good form and a lethal mental. He’d heard the sound again and instantly he aimed for the floor, finger on the trigger ready to pull.

A low meow followed by a pretty tabby-cat relaxed his tense muscles. Smokes lowered his weapon with ease before silently putting the revolver back on the night stand. His brandy-colored eyes tracked the movements of the cat between his legs, trying to get a feel of who this stranger was. Eventually, the sound of music on the jukebox and Rosetta’s soft snoring helped to steady his breathing and lower his pulse. Smokes reached to flick off the lamp light and carefully settled back into the rickety mattress. He took one look at Rosetta’s sleeping face before staring up at the ceiling.

Imagine rainfall, accompanied by the sound of a warm guitar slowly picking away at the layer of your sorrows, haunting, yet beautiful. A sense of serenity entered his mind, extinguishing the flames that burn his soul. For a moment, Smokes could feel, and think nothing. So brief, yet so long, he felt at ease. The melody carrying him across distant shores, feeling weightless in its entranced groove. He flew with the progression of the song, eyes closed, allowing his emotions to guide his path. Up and down his chest rose. Beyond the murky sky, the white glow of the moon shown through the window.

A dainty hand touched his chest. Smokes reached up to grasp it, rubbing it with his thumb. His bare dick against his thigh began to grow. Smokes brought her hand to his plump lips and kissed her there gently. The bed creaked beneath them. Smokes glanced down within the darkness, his eyes connecting with the sleepy, doe eyes of his Rosey. Her naked silhouette entranced him. The dip of her hip and the way her breasts hung from her chest aroused him to no end.

It was the way her long, deep wavy hair fell over the pillow. The pearls around her neck made her look ritzy and those red-tinged kissers made him salivate to taste her again. She was breathtaking. And Smokes didn’t lie when he meant she’s the most beautiful in N’awlins. Rosetta sat up and Smokes looked up into her heavenly face. Her fingertips danced across the ridges of muscle on his torso, her eyes never leaving his.

“Can’t sleep, daddy?” She says, voice soft and warm.

“That cat of yours woke me up out my sleep, gal…”

“Not you afraid of cats now…”

Rosetta giggled. Smokes chuckled slightly.

“I ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ cat…I’m just…been out there in some shit, baby. This the first time I had decent sleep.”

Rosetta looked towards Smokes’ revolver. Smoke followed her eyesight.

“I want one. My own gun.” Rosetta said.

“Oh?” Smokes sat up, “is that so?”

“Mhm. You can show me how to point that thang since you back home. Remember, you said you would…”

“I did.”

Rosetta sat up and Smokes situated her between his legs with her back against his chest. Grabbing the revolver, Smokes pointed it in a safe direction. A safe direction means that the gun is pointed in such a way that an accidental fire would not cause any harm. Rosetta watched with great interest. Smokes accessed the cylinder, emptying the bullets before clicking it back in place.

“Aight, Rosey…wrap your dominant hand ‘round the handle…use this hand for support.”

Arms outstretched, Smokes helped Rosetta point the revolver straight ahead at a wall covered with peeling paper.

“Straighten ya elbows, doll…no need to cock it, but steady ya breath…finger on the trigger…”

“It feels…heavy.”

“Hm. Imagine it with bullets.”

Smokes grazed Rosetta’s neck with his fluffy lips. The lingering smell of amber and sweat against his broad nose.

“That’s how you do it. I’ll take ya’ out to shoot soon…”

The urge to stuff his fat dick in her again created a tickling sensation just beneath his navel. Smokes felt at ease being with his woman again. He’d never leave her side again. Even if Stacks got in the way.

Smokes gave Rosey a wet sloppy kiss to her neck. She tilted her head and his thick tongue grazed over the rapid pulse in her neck and directly over that spot that got her wet every time. His thicker fingers were groping her breasts. Rosey released a breathy moan before looking back at Smokes, one hand on the back of his neck, forcing his lips against hers.

Their tongues moved in tandem, the squeaky springs of her not so sturdy bed surrounding them. Rosetta spun around and straddled his lap. Smokes kicked the sheets away from him, adjusting his large body to accommodate Rosetta. The wobbly, metal headboard banged against the wall when she flopped down into his lap.

One hand around her neck, Smokes tugged lightly, bringing Rosetta’s lips to his again. His other hand reached between her meaty thighs to feel the heat and dampness of her folds. Smokes growled against her lips. His dick was cast iron hard and read to fit inside her tight snatch again.

“Tilt ‘dem hips…atta, girl,” Smokes tapped her pussy with his big dick, “Time to fuck on this dick again, baby…”

“Yes, Papa…”

Rosetta wiggled her hips down onto Smokes thick pipe and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Smokes popped her on the ass hard, his way of telling her to get all the way down. Fully stuffed, Rosetta grabbed onto Smokes shoulders and with a whirl of her hips and a bounce she rode him on that rickety bed like it was her last time.

The fullness stretching her out made her shout Papa, Papa, Papa over and over. Smokes was too damn big for that bed but he made it work. He dug his heels into the lumpy mattress and with both hands he kept her cheeks spread while pumping up into her as she dropped down. Wet, skin slapping noises mixed with the way the bed jumped and creaked beneath them.

The steel of the revolver pressed against Rosetta’s knee each time she bounced. It was rough like she needed it. Deep dicking in her bedroom beneath the moonlight. Smokes slammed up in her so good Rosetta spread her thighs more to feel it stretch her. She craved the soreness, the way it tugged on her clit, the slight sting of his heavy balls slapping her ass.

Pop pop pop

Smack smack smack

Clap clap clap

“Damn, Rosey, gettin’ real whacky on that dick, fuck.”

Smokes grabbed her hips and helped her bounce on his length like a good little fuck doll. Her wavy hair shielded her eyes and those pretty titties swayed in his face.

“You hittin’ my spot, Big Daddy…you hittin’ it so good…make your pussy cum…make your bitch pussy cum…”

“Rosey–”

“Dig deeper, Papa–”

“Grip this dick and wet it up with that sweet nectar!”

Rosetta choked his dick with her walls and her cum trickled down his dick and over his balls. Hand in her hair, Smokes slammed his lips against hers while thrusting deeper.

He needed her more.

Smokes put Rosetta on her back and her legs in the air. He dived back in that pussy with his toes planted against the mattress. Rosetta clawed his back up and they both watched it go in and out. Smokes savored her nipples with his lips and tongue, ignoring the hollow dents in the wall from the headboard.

He grabbed a foot and stuck her red–painted toes in his mouth. Rosetta was super soaker wet on that dick, creating a large stain beneath her ass.

“I just wanna eat you up and fuck you…”

Smokes stared down at that hairy pussy with her leg thrown over his shoulder. He released a breath that came out like the hiss of a locomotive. That shit looked beautiful. If he could paint a picture of the way his dick all big and long spread her open he would. The sweat and humidity in that room made it hard to breath. All he wanted to do was be in his woman. They’ll crack a window eventually.

Well, I’ve got a meat grinder, it belongs to me

It's got good movements, I use it constantly

I’ve got a meat grinder, it belongs to me

It's got good movements, I use it constantly

You don't like good grindin', you ain't gotta bit of sense

It's been going on ever since the world commenced

If you don't like good grindin', ain't gotta bit of sense

‘Cause it's been going on, ever since the world commenced…

“That’s it, Big Daddy, cum all in your fat pussy…”

“Oh, yeah?”

Smokes folded Rosetta in half and pounded the fuck outta her. She furrowed her brows, chewed on that lip hard, and spread her pussy lips with those red nails like she wasn’t open enough already.

“Smokes! Yes! Don’t stop fucking me! Don’t stop fuckin’ your creamy pussy! Milk it, Daddy! Fill me up! Papa! That good hard dick!”

“Ahhhhhhhh–”

“Smoke…oooh…yes…yes…right there, daddy…don’t stop…ooooo shiiiit, daddy…fuuck….get it, da–DDY…”

Smokes gave Rosetta a heated glare and just like that he was filling her to the brim with his thick semen, painting her walls heavily. Dick slipping out, he painted her clit with more. Smokes rubbed his tip between her folds, eliciting a creamy noise. Their tired breaths mingled. Smokes slipped from the bed and stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

He ran a bath and took a piss. Rosetta perched her gorgeous frame against the doorway, body glistening from sweat and cum. She was a sight to behold. Smokes is a lucky man. A bar of Palmolive sat untouched on the edge of the claw foot tub. While Smokes shook the access urine from his dick, Rosetta opened a jar filled with lavender, rosemary, and chamomile herbs, sprinkling it into the tub.

It was big enough to fit the both of them. Smokes slipped in first and then Rosetta settled in front of him. They used a soap sponge to clean each other off thoroughly. This was serenity. Encased in her sweet embrace.

“I love you, Rosey.” He whispered.

“And I love you…”

——

The smell of bacon and butter wafted Rosetta’s nose that early morning. She sat up, messy hair in her face while she stretched her tired arms above her head. Smokes being gone told her that he was cooking up some breakfast. Rosetta threw her sheets back from her body and snatched a satin robe from a coat hanger next to her bed. Feet sliding into a pair of house shoes, she looked down and noticed deep scratches in the wood paneling.

She would need to cover that up with a rug or get someone to buffer that out. She didn’t want her mama to have a fit.

Rosetta made her way into the kitchen, the tea kettle whistling as she approached. Smokes moved about the small room with a blunt between his lips and his dick out and swangin. Rosetta admired his tight ass before her eyes swept over his muscular back. She could see that he was making bacon, buttered toast, eggs, and grits. Smokes sat the cast iron on the stove and looked back when he’d heard footsteps.

“Mornin’ sunshine…”

He pecked her lips.

“Smells real good in here,” Rosetta stole a slice of bacon, “I’m hungry from all that sex.”

“Gotta feed you then, huh?” Smokes winked at Rosetta.

Rosetta stole the blunt from his lips and took a hit.

She coughed slightly, Smokes chuckling.

“Careful wit’ that there, Rosey…”

She took another hit and blew smoke towards him to taunt him before sticking her tongue out. Smoke tapped her on the booty.

“Sit that pretty tail down. I’m a plate this food up.”

Rosetta settled in a dining chair. She noticed the news paper and fresh milk on the table. He must of gone to grab it. Rosetta grabbed the paper and opened it to read. She crossed one shapely leg over the other blunt between her fingers as she held the paper up.

“A train hijacking?” Rosetta announced with surprise.

Smokes glanced over at Rosetta while her brown eyes were glued to the paper. He packed her plate and walked over, placing it in front of her. Back at the stove, Smokes poured her a cup of tea.

“Jesus, killed everyone on board…”

“Gimme’ some neck…”

Rosetta tilted her lips towards Smokes and he stuck his tongue in her mouth. The grip she had on the paper slipped. Smokes snatched it from her grasp and placed it on the table with a loud slap.

“Eat, girl.”

Rosetta grabbed her fork but her eyes remained on Smokes. He could feel her staring while he situated himself across from her.

“Level with me, Smokes…you know ‘bout this?”

“Don’t know from nothing, gal. Eat.”

“I’ll eat when you talk to me.”

“Ain’t nothin to share, baby. Everything is copacetic…”

“Did Stacks do this?” Rosetta questioned.

Smokes’ fork clashed with the table. He gave Rosetta a pointed look of warning. Letting her know to drop it.

“Wasn’t Stacks. Wasn’t me. Wasn’t nobody to get all worked up over. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Smokes…I don’t want you gettin’ yourself in trouble. It’s enough that Phonzo wants you dead—”

“Phonzo punk ass already dead. Might as well call it what it is.”

Rosetta bit her tongue. She knew arguing wouldn’t get her the answers she needed. She didn’t want Smokes to return and get himself into deep shit. She knew he was more than capable of handling himself, but Rosetta needed him alive, especially if she planned to marry him and have his butterball babies.

They ate in silence, the food tasty. Smokes sensed that she wanted more, so he filled her plate up again and Rosetta thanked him with a small smile and a kiss. Smokes watched her eat while smoking his weed and when she finished he cleaned. Rosetta drank her tea with those smooth and thick ol’ gams teasing Smoke’s eyes.

As he scrubbed, Rosetta spread her legs in that chair and spread her lower lips with her fingers. Sweet pink graced his eyes. Smokes watched her stroke her clit. He was high and horny again. Dick stood out like a flag pole.

“You want daddy to eat that pussy…”

“Mhm,” Rosetta licked her plump lips.

Smokes dried his hands and marched over to Rosetta. He picked her up and walked her to the couch.

“Wait, not here—”

“This Miss. Doris’ good furniture,” Smokes laughed, not caring at all about the sofa, “Good thing it’s covered in plastic…”

Her legs parted like the Red Sea. Hips aching and inner thighs burning. Smokes wasted no time slurping on her pussy with a wet tongue and thick lips. Rosetta palmed the back of his head and mushed his face in it. He had a habit of being loud while eating pussy. She could feel herself creaming on his chin when he latched onto her clit to suck.

“Yes, oh, fuck, mmmm….”

Rosetta frowned her pretty face. She had a face that belonged in movies. A rare beauty. Smokes never took his eyes off of her, not even when she came in his mouth. He stuck his tongue so far up her pussy to catch it all. Her robe had spilled open, revealing that hot body to him again. Smokes reached up and rolled her nipples between his fingers while continuing to feast on her overflowing pussy.

Smokes popped his lips off her clit to stare down at his work, “you betta cum again,” He sucked again before stopping, “Cum in my mouth before I stuff you again,” He slurped her up again and Rosetta moaned out, “You know who this pussy belong to. Not Phonzo, not no other nigga…”

Rosetta had to pick her lip up to stop herself from drooling. Her eyes crossed as another orgasm rocked her body. She closed her thighs around Smokes head, unable to take the licks he was giving her.

“Got me ready to fuck again,” Smokes took it upon himself to bend Rosetta over the couch, “Bend that back…atta girl…daddy’s good girl,” Smokes spread her ass cheeks wide and grunted, “Shit, Rosey…”

He hunched his body and with the power of his hips he sank into that good twat. Rosetta rode his tip before he could even fit in. He popped her on the ass with his wide palm before thrusting up and deep. Already she was creaming on his dick. Smokes had her by the arms as he pounded.

Rosetta had that IT like no other. Pretty ass voice, pretty ass doll, perfect pussy, perfect face. Smokes watched her head loll back and forth from the momentous pounding he was giving her. That back arched and that ass jiggling. Her knees almost slipped from the sofa so Smokes had to fix her and put his hand in the middle of her back to keep her stationary.

“I’m a fuck a baby in you.”

Rosetta moaned and clenched his dick.

“Like that? Like when I tell you how I’m a get you pregnant? Like that, sweet baby? Make me a Daddy?”

“YES!”

“All wet on Big Daddy’s dick.”

“Oh, Jesus!” Rosetta yelped when his hand wrapped around her neck from the front, bucking those strong hips and slapping those big nuts against her clit.

Smokes growled deep and with two staggering strokes he came inside of her again. He abruptly turned Rosetta’s head and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Crack!

Smokes slipped out of Rosey fast and stood tall. Rosetta turned onto her backside quickly, staring up at Smokes with wide eyes.

“Fuck was dat?”

Smokes moved with a brisk pace towards the window within the kitchen, he peered down past the small glass panel at his car.

“What is it, Elijah?”

Rosetta stood behind him with a worried look etched into her beautiful face. Smokes took deep breaths before exiting the kitchen, Rosetta on his heels. He entered her room and grabbed up his pants, uncaring that his underwear sat on the floor.

“Elijah!”

“Stay here…”

Smokes grabbed up his revolve and loaded it up.

Click.

He stormed out of Rosetta’s apartment and down the small staircase leading into the boutique. As he drew closer, his eyes became wild with anger. He unlocked the door and stormed out into the smelting heat with his gun raised. There, a brick lay at his feet. Smokes bent down to pick it up, his cognac eyes following a trail of broken glass until he came upon the shattered window of his Cadillac.

Some people gathered outside to see what all the fuss was about. Smokes peered at them, eyes accusatory and rageful. He knew it had to be someone from Phonzo’s crew. A cheap shot, but still…Smokes was furious. Chest puffed out, he tossed the brick and entered the shop. Locking it up tightly, Smokes turned to find Rosetta staring up at him with a fearful glance.

“They busted out your window…”

“Ain’t nothin’ I can get that patched up…”

Smokes grabbed Rosetta by the elbow, turning her back towards the stairs.

“Daddy gotta go handle some thangs…I want you to stay put and out the way—”

“I’m coming with you, Elijah—”

“No—”

“YES! Yes the fuck I am!”

Rosetta snatched her arm from his hold and stood firm as she glared down at him on the steps.

“I’m tagging along whether ya like it or not.”

Smokes clenched his jaw. Their eyes danced between each other before Rosetta turned her back at him, climbing up.

——

“Scotch…”

Smokes accepted his glass, adjusting Rosetta in his lap. He sat across from his twin, Stacks, the gold in his mouth gleaming. They were sitting in a bar, the sound of distant chatter and glass in the background. The smoke from the cigars they were smoking billowed out like a thick fog. Rosetta wore a chocolate–brown Blondell dress with pantyhose and embroidered T–Straps on her feet in gold. A cloche hat that had covered most of her hair and much of her face was a last minute accessory since she didn’t have time to fix her hair after sweating it all out fucking.

Smokes’ 8-panel hat sat over his own messy hair and he wore his button down shirt untidy with his white beater on display. Stacks looked dapper in his double-breasted mahogany suit with shiny silver buttons and matching cufflinks. Copper silk tie, and black and brown woven Oxford shoes complete the look. His fedora sat on the table next to him.

The Big Cheese took a sip of his own scotch.

“How was your night with that snow bunny?”

Stacks chuckled, “As good as yours was I’m sure, brother. Lay it on me…Phonzo askin’ to go war? Does he not know who he fuckin’ wit?”

“You know dat nigga stupid, Stacks,” He checks his dominoes, “I got word that he’ll want to meet up tonight. I’m not much for talkin’…”

“Hm,” Smokes puffed on his cigar before speaking, “You thinkin’ the corn field?”

“Dig a ditch or two,” Smokes threw out.

“I’ll get Monty on it.”

Rosetta listened to the twins discuss killing and burying Phonzo and whoever else in a corn field. She shivered within Smokes’ lap.

“How ya been, Rosey? Still singing?”

“Of course,” Rosetta smirked at Stacks, “Still gettin’ into trouble I see.”

“You mean your man here,” Stacks pointed towards Smokes, “He’s the trouble.”

“How so?”

“Go on and tell her how you was in Texas.”

Rosetta quirked an arched brow. Smokes shook his head.

“Takin’ his word over mine ain’t the way to go, baby.”

“Uh-huh.” Rosetta wasn’t fully convinced.

She grabbed Smokes’ glass and took a sip. Rosetta watched the twins play another round of dominoes and catch up before Stacks made his leave. He had to make sure things were in order before tonight. A jazz ballad played and Rosetta swayed her hips in Smokes’ lap. She could feel him poking and the thought of sliding up and down on that pole sent chills down her spine.

“Careful there, Tiger,” Rosetta lifted his chin with her finger, “I still gotta cook you dinner.”

“A meal before I bump off? My kinda lady…”

Josephine Baker–I Love My Baby started playing, her voice projecting in a way that emphasized a higher frequency, leading to a brighter, more nasal tone. Rosetta caressed Smokes’ handsome face while staring deeply into his eyes. She sang along to the words, husky breathy tone drawing him in.

Sometimes we quarrel and maybe we fight

But then we make up the following night

When we're together we're great company

I love my baby, my baby loves me

The spell she had on Smokes brought him to his knees before her. He stared at her with those bedroom eyes and a half smirk while she sang to him in his lap. That smoking hot chassis was enough to make him fuck her right there. Smoke tapped his foot and rocked his head while she serenaded him. Others in the bar watched with wonder while balancing liquor and ciggs.

When the song faded out, Rosetta gave Smokes a slow kiss. A wolf whistle echoed and Smokes removed his hat to shield them from view so he could tongue his woman down.

“If it’s a girl, I wanna name her Ella, after my mama…”

“That’s a beautiful name, Elijah.” Rosetta smiled against his lips.

“If it’s a boy,” Smokes took a sip of his scotch, “Emmett.”

Rosetta swatted his bicep with her dainty hand.

“What was that fa’?!” Smokes protested with a dimpled grin.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing!”

“That’s why you my woman…”

Smokes kissed on Rosetta’s neck causing her to giggle. They were both pleasantly faded.

“Is that Smokes?”

“Ida Mae…”

The curvy dame settled in front of them, dolled up and doused in perfume. The smell of Bergamot, Orange Blossom and Lemon burning Rosetta’s nose. Her back stiffened as she surveyed the woman with her sultry eyes and chandelier earrings. Her dark red lips quirked up into a flirty smile.

“When did you high tail back into Nola?”

“A day ago. Why’s you askin’?”

Ida Mae locked eyes with Rosetta for a second.

“Just missed ya’ that’s all. Stacks back too?”

“Ya’ know it.” Smokes replied, caressing Rosetta’s waist, “This is my woman, Rosetta. Rosey, this here is Ida Mae…”

“Pleasantries,” Ida Mae tilted her head in greeting.

Rosetta’s lips remained sealed.

“She owns that whore house in Storyville.”

“Is that so?”

Rosetta cut her eyes at Smokes.

“Yes, a good business if ya’ ask me. Selling pussy is on the up and up, especially these days. Got too much shit to stress about.”

Was he dipping in pussy she didn’t know about? Why the fuck would Ida do some disrespectful shit and flirt with her man in front of her? Smokes had some explaining to do.

“Well, just wanted to say hello. Good seeing ya’ Smokes…tell Stacks I said don’t be a stranger…”

“Will do, Ida.”

She walked away with a tantalizing sway of her hips.

“You wanna tell me what that was?” Rosetta cut to the quick.

“I ain’t fuck nobody else if that’s what ya’ asking.”

“You fuck Ida? Don’t lie to me Smokes…”

“Rosey, cut it out. Ida and Stacks used to fuck ‘round. Probably still do.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m no sappy bird I can tell. Prolly made a stop to that whore house before coming to me. Been writing Ida to keep that pussy ready—”

“Rosey, shut up.” Smokes said through gritted teeth.

“Shut up?” Rosetta kissed her teeth before pushing off of Smokes’ lap, “Go after her!”

Smokes narrowed his eyes at her.

“I ain’t lying to you, Rosetta.”

Rosetta stomped away towards the exit. Smokes followed after her, catching her before she could open the door. He walked with her in his grasp outside, the afternoon heat unbearable. Already he was sweating profusely. Smokes turned her around to face him. Rosetta pointed her gaze over his shoulder, refusing to look at him.

She could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

“I love you. Only you. You need to understand that and quick,” Smokes spoke angrily so close to Rosetta’s face his breath laced with liquor and a hint of chocolate and black pepper from his cigar wafted her nose.

Rosetta pouted. Smokes gripped her chin tight to make her look him in the eye. He needed her to know he was serious.

“Stop it, hear me?”

“Okay…”

She looked from his eyes to his lips.

“So damn hard–headed…”

He kissed her lips before popping her on the ass.

“I’m a drop you off at the shop, okay? I gotta get this window fixed.”

Smokes made sure Rosetta was settled in her seat before he got in. The drive was less than ten minutes. Smokes made sure she was situated, blowing her a kiss through the glass door of the shop before driving off.

Rosetta’s doe eyes followed Smokes’ retreating car.

She wanted to believe he was loyal to her and only her. He’d always been. Maybe it was her mother’s words making her feel insecure. Her mother hated Elijah. Rosetta planned to cook up a steak dinner for Smokes. Ready to get to it, she climbed the stairs and before she opened her door, she noticed a kitchen knife sticking out of the keyhole.

Rosetta gasped, hand covering her mouth. Fear consumed her as she stood there, staring between the crack of the door and into a pitch black abyss. It was eerily silent. Rosetta took a chance and pushed open the door. The light from the stairwell flooded the room. So far, as she peeked inside, she couldn’t see anyone.

Rosetta stepped over the threshold and grabbed the handle of the knife, tugging it to release. She held the knife out in front of her, hand shaking with nerves. Her glossy eyes bounced left and right. She fully stepped inside, frantically moving her hand along the wall until she felt the string of the lamp light. A pinch of relief flooded her veins when the room brightened.

That was all stripped from her just as fast when a gloved hand slipped over her mouth and the weight of a gun pressed into her hip.

——

Hope ya’ll enjoy part two 😏😌

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #michaelbaejordan #michealbjordan #sinners 2025

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xoluvx · 9 days ago

Text

cause i wonder; b.eilish ❥₊ ⊹

as the decade would play us for fools and you saw my bones out with somebody new

stay with me ya'll cause i'm feeling a bit emo. just imagine billie seeing you after you've broken up. the first time she's seen you since it all went down. you quit each other; no contact only painful blistering ache. it harbored in your hearts. you carried it like an anchor sinking to the pit of your stomach. it was debilitating and all consuming and now you were at her show. standing with your friends like you weren't hanging on by a thread threatening to snap any second. like you weren't completely shattered on the inside.

she'd spotted you almost instantly. when your eyes met, all the noise drowned out. all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating rapidly, wanting to jump out of your chest and run right up to her on stage. she looked away and tried composing herself, but you could tell she was off. she was confused. you were confused and you couldn't outwardly feel any of it. not in this crowd. not with your friends. not even with yourself because you'd both chosen this.

it could've been so easy to fight for it, but you didn't. instead you lived with the pain and regret and the tears forming in your eyes and the quiet sniffles and excuses to go to the bathroom because you couldn't bare to carry the pain and you couldn't bare pretending it was all okay when you were both walking with open wounds.

so if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet, will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon like it never happened?

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

wounds too large to heal. you almost prayed they didn't heal because you could still feel her in every fiber of your being. in every step you took and every song you listened to. twirled in your thoughts and your memories. intimate memories of arms brushing, fingers lacing, legs tangling. soft whispering and gentle caresses. longing moans and tender sighs. hands touching while lips kissed. tongues tussling while nails clawed. whimpers and shivers down spines. they all replayed in your head like a cruel fucking joke.

all you could do was wish you could go back to your bubble and hide from the world like you didn't exist. longing to go back to your safe space instead of standing in an arena of people chanting her name. you reverted to spacing out just like you did every day. going about in a daze. everything losing its color and taste. coffee bland. eyes blank. heart bruised. bubble bursting suddenly leaving you raw and shivering. so you watched her from afar doing what she loved. smiling faintly when your friends tugged on your arm forcing you to dance. clapping when she bowed.

she was your sun and you just existed to orbit around her. you would've done it for decades if she'd asked you to.

and if you want to tear my world apart say you'll always wonder. cause i wonder.

but neither of you could admit to the love still festering in your hearts and neither of you could admit to the pain you both caused. neither of you would pick up the phone and admit defeat to the cruel game with no winners. you were two losers yearning for each other. clapping at your seat. wondering who was waiting for her backstage. who she was going to wrap her arms around. who she was longing for. so stupid and oblivious to the fact that her heart still belong to you. searching for you in the sea of people while you still wondered.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish angst

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linamromero · 6 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐥𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚 𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 - 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.

...

it happened again.

the team won the la liga for the season again. It was even better because your girlfriend alexia made her comeback after being out for nearly 10 months from a nasty knee injury.

you and alexia were celebrating on the way back to the changing room, clinging on to the trophy her hand on one handle and yours on the other, "nosotras somos las campeonas!”

"mi amiga!" patri sang the next lyric so she played the queen song on the speaker.

alexia pulled your body close to hers swaying to the music, you buried your face into her neck placing light kisses every once in a while, "amor!”

"sí?" you hummed sending vibrations through her body.

"i don't want to stay out late tonight, we can celebrate at home." alexia whispered stroking your hair.

"how would you like to celebrate at home?" you smirked playing dumb.

"i think you know." she murmured in your ear.

"venga lovebirds, have a beer!” mapi handed you both a bottle of estrella from her cubby.

"valé valé valé!" alexia put her hands up before taking her sweaty match shirt off.

you could help but stare a little too long before taking your own shirt off. the team sang and danced for a while before you decide to go home and get dressed up to go to manuelas.

you both got into alexia’s car and managed to get out of the car park before being swarmed by fans. the both of you took photos and signed items before leaving the premises.

once you got home, alexia went straight upstairs into your shared bedroom changing for a shower, “y/n cariño are you showering with me?”

"sí claro, stupid question bonita but we can't be long i promised patri i would pick her and piña up." you called up stair well.

"valé!”

you rushed into the master bedroom taking your shorts and sports bra off as you were eager to get to alexia. she was in the shower facing the wall you thought she looked good from behind. her ass is incredible.

you opened the glass shower door, she didn't even turn around so you approached her holding her hips, grabbing her bum lightly, "hola bonita." she greeted you.

you hummed in response kissing over her neck and across her left shoulder, you brought her arm up kissing all the way down her arm and down her hand to her index finger. alexia tilted your chin up to look at her in the eyes, bringing you close to her face connecting her lips with yours.

no words were shared, just through actions.

you managed to wash each other without getting too carried away, "can you pass me my towel amor?"

the midfielder wrapped a towel around you and her own around herself walking back into the master bedroom. you decided to dry and straighten your hair, leaving your natural freckles to sprawl themselves across your face only applying a little bit of mascara.

finally you decided to wear some caramel dress trousers and a white vest top paired with your dior high tops, gold rolex, cartier bangle and chunky rings.

your girlfriend decided on a black crop top with extra ties and a matching black ruched skirt. she left her hair looking wet pushed back out of her face, alexia put light eyeshadow on with lashes and a red lip, "what jewellery shall i wear?"

"definitely gold so maybe your hoops and the gold rolex i got you." you suggested, which she agreed putting them on.

"and my shoes?"

"your red jordans 100%." you implied.

"you have such good taste, i know i can count on you." alexia smiled kissing your lips lightly.

"ale!" You groaned.

"que?"

"you got your lipstick on me." she wiped your lips with her finger, "no kissing me all night."

"but y/n, that's gonna be so hard you look so good." alexia smirked.

“you’re just gonna have to behave."

"i will try my hardest ." alexia raised a brow grabbing her bag.

...

after the couple picked up patri and piña they drove to the open air restaurant, their head coach had invited the team out for a celebratory dinner.

of course they were the first of the players to arrive, alexia was always good with her timing, arriving first to everything.

"hola bona nit.” each of the greeted.

"sit, sit." he pointed at the rather long table.

you and alexia sat near the head of the table as the staff sat next to jonatan who was at the end with patri and piña sitting opposite you. once everyone arrived jonatan handed your girlfriend the trophy placing it in between you both.

"mi reina." You mumbled into alexia's ear, a smile appeared upon her lips.

"mi querida." she looked at you with loving eyes.

everyone had eaten and drinks were flowing, you were finishing third estrella whereas your girlfriend was finishing her fourth strawberry daiquiri. mapi danced over to the table with a large jug of sangria, "let's get this party started!"

you all cheered, mapi filling fresh wine glasses to the brim with the beverage. you placed your hand on alexia's bare thigh making her flinch at the coldness of your rings, "lo siento."

she brushed her thumb over your knuckle reassuring you that she was fine.

jonatan told everyone to grab a photo with the trophy in which you all did, "campeonas! campeonas !" cata and mapi started shouting dancing around with her flag that she bought with her.

eventually you all floated off to manuelas which you were looking forward to. As soon as you entered, you were stamped with a 'manuelas' tattoo and lots of stickers.

you got the love was playing a slowish song so you dragged your girlfriend to the dance floor slinging her arms around your neck. slowly dancing and singing the lyrics with your teammates.

she span her body around as antes de morirme started playing guiding your arms around her waist, you pulled her hips colliding them with yours. her skirt began to ride up as she grinded her backside into your crotch, “cariño."

she looked up at you with an innocent look on her face, "si mi amor?"

"i said behave." you bit your lip.

"i am not using my lips though am i?" alexia winked at you knowing that she was teasing you.

"bathroom. ahora." you grunted in her ear.

you got to the bathroom, other women were hooking up by the basins so alexia lead you into a cubical. you pushed her up against the door, exploring her exposed body in the limited space you had.

she returned the favour, flipping your body over onto the door, pulling your straps of your vest top down taking it off with your bra. alexia attached her lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at it moving down to your breasts, "ale."

she just looked at you innocently, "you want this right?"

you nodded in response and she set to work taking your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it adding a light suction. At this point alexia's lipstick had smeared all over your body but you were too busy to care.

"ale! y/n!" a voice called from outside the cubicle, of course it was ana.

her voice pulled you out of the messy fog, "yes what?"

"if your gonna have sex, go home." she yelled as you quickly put your clothes on and opened the door.

“how did you know?" alexia furrowed her eyebrows.

"look at the state of y/n for a start!” your body was absolutely covered in alexia's lipstick.

"ah well i-."

"save it, just go home i've ordered you an uber and pick your car up in the morning." ana said leaving the bathroom.

"gracias ana!" you pulled a face as you left the club.

"we can continue this at home, mi reina." you smirked getting in the taxi.

#woso #alexia putellas #futfem #barcelona femeni #woso community #alexia x reader #fcb femení #espwnt #woso x reader #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #alexia #la reina #alexia putellas x reader #woso oneshot

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cressidagrey · 3 months ago

Text

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 11

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Burns, Discussion of suicidal thoughts (If this triggers you, PLEASE don't read it) and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Azriel’s jaw was clenched and his fingers were trembling.

He was using all of his willpower to keep himself in check, forcing himself to keep still in his chair.

Every single instinct was screaming at him to get up, to reach out, to scoop Eira into his arms and get as far away from her sister as possible.

And he had to force himself to stay in his seat, reminding himself that Elain wasn’t a physical threat.

He felt his blood boiling at the sight of his mate in pain like this, every fibre of his being screaming at him to fix this. To take her as far away from her sister as he could.

His hands were still gripping hers, his shadows wrapped around her wrist like a comforting pressure. His eyes were trained on her, every inch of him attuned to his mate as she sat beside him, the sparks still dancing across her skin.

And it took all his control to keep himself from doing anything, to keep himself from just grabbing her and running and taking her somewhere far, far away from all of this.

No. He needed to stay calm, he reminded himself. He needed to control himself.

So he forced himself to sit there, his eyes still trained on Eira. He sat there, forcing himself to stay still, as his every instinct was screaming at him to do the opposite.

"I think we should retire," Rhys said carefully. "Emotions are running high."

Azriel heard his brother’s words, his eyes flickering over to him for a moment.

It was the understatement of the century.

He could see the concern in Rhys’s eyes, even if the High Lord was doing a damn good job at hiding it. And he could see Nesta’s anger still churning in her eyes, even as she took a deep breath, restraining herself from outright yelling at her sister.

"I think that’s a good idea," Helion said, his eyes still on Eira. "I'll have the kitchen send up lunch. We'll see you for dinner and dancing this evening?"

Azriel had the suspicion that they weren’t exactly going to partake in the dancing.

He had a feeling that they would be spending the evening locked in their rooms, wrapped up in each other’s arms and away from this mess.

He stood, pulling Eira up with him.

Eira didn’t resist as he pulled her up, her hand still gripped in his own, the sparks still dancing across her skin.

The others got up as well, chairs scraping against the floor as they stood, and a small part of Azriel couldn’t help but note the way that Elain still remained seated, her hands clenching into fists in her lap

For a moment, he considered just picking Eira up, hoisting her into his arms and carrying her out of the room. He wanted to, just so that she could rest and he could shield her from the world. He needed, to quiet the part of him that was demanding that he take her into the solitude of their room, where she would be safe from her sister.

He didn't. But he kept a hold of her hand as they silently made the trek back up to their room, the door closed behind them...and that was the moment as Eira broke apart.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Eira’s expression crumpled.

That anger, that fury that had been boiling within her, seemed to break. Her shoulders sagged, and her body started shaking, her breath hitching as her mouth opened, a small, broken sound escaping her as tears began forming in her eyes once again.

The lightning disappeared. Instead, he could see the grief on every line of her face as he hauled her into his arms when he managed a few steps backwards so they could sit down on that ugly marigold sofa, while his mate cried her eyes out, curled against him.

He held her close, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

His hands were gentle as he stroked her hair, his hold tight and protective as he wrapped his wings around her, shielding her from the world.

He held her as she cried, the sound of her small, broken sobs echoing in his ears, and his hold on her tightened.

He held her close, murmuring wordless sounds of comfort into her hair, as his fingers continued slowly stroking her hair.

Every small, broken sob that left her tore through Azriel like a blade, piercing him in the heart. He hated the sound, hated the way that her body was shaking, hated how shattered she seemed, hated that he had to see her like this.

But he kept stroking her hair, he held her close, his wings still enveloping them both.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say, not as the sobs continued to wrack her body, as her body continued to tremble against him.

He held her close, murmuring words of comfort as she continued to cry, holding her tight like she might slip away if he dared to loosen his grip even by a little.

"I always wanted to be a mother. I would have loved our babies," she whispered.

His heart shattered.

His breath hitched, his entire body going stiff, as her words echoed in his ears.

She had spoken them quietly, her voice breaking as the words fell from her lips, and he could hear the grief and the anguish in her voice at her words.

He could feel his breath catch in his throat at the thought of their future children, their future family, that had been dashed before it had even had a chance to begin.

The image of that tiny little girl, with his eyes and her hair, with numerous freckles and delicate, fluttering, wings, flickered in front of his very eyes.

But the image shattered, the vision of what could have been disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, vanishing into nothing but air.

The thought hurt. It hurt imagining the family they could have had, imagining what their life together might have looked like, with their little children running around the house, their laughter echoing in his ears as their wings fluttered.

But that future was gone. It was gone, he knew, vanished into nothing but an empty void, never to be fulfilled. Not exactly like that. Not like it would have without Elain’s interference.

Elain. Elain, who he used to think was kind, who he used to think was sweet and caring.

Elain, who had torn all their hopes for the future to pieces before they had even had a chance to take root, and who has broken his mate’s heart.

"We'll have babies," he whispered. "You'll be a mother."

It was a promise, it was an oath.

It was everything he had ever wanted.

They would have children. One day in the future, Eira would hold their children in her arms.

He felt her breath hitch again as his words echoed in her ears, her body going still in his arms.

Her sobs had slowed down, her breathing still laboured and her body still shaking, but the sounds of her crying had at least mostly subsided.

But now, he felt her breath hitch as the words continued to hang in the air, a small shiver running through her entire frame.

"We will," he whispered, his voice firm and sure.

"And you'll be a wonderful mother," he continued, his heart breaking at the thought. "You'll be the best mother in the whole damn world, and I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way."

"We'll have those fat, rosy-cheeked babies you used to dream about," he whispered gently. "Little children with my eyes and your hair, with their laughter filling the entire house and their hands sticky with food, all over our clothes and our skin. But we'll still think they're the most wonderful thing in the entire world, and we'll love them unconditionally."

A small sob, almost a gasp, escaped her at his words, and her body began shaking again.

She was no longer crying, her previous tears no doubt having dried up, but her body was still trembling, with that grief and that anguish still thrumming through her system.

"She was so beautiful," Eira whispered.

Azriel’s breath caught again at her words.

He could see the image of their baby girl in his mind, so tiny and beautiful, her eyes so lovely, and his heart broke at the thought.

Grief and rage churned in his gut at the memory of that beautiful daughter, in that vision, that should never be.

"Of course she was," he whispered back, his own voice thick with emotion. "She would have looked like you."

His hands were gripping her now, holding her tightly.

His chest ached a deep, hollow ache where the beautiful future they should have had burned.

He had no words. Nothing that could even come close to making this better. Nothing that could erase the grief and anger that was churning through his veins at the thought of the beautiful little girl they would have had, the little family that they could have built, and how it had all been shattered before it could even begin.

The silence in the room was thick, only broken by the sound of her shaking breaths and his own heartbeat, as Azriel continued to hold her.

He kept his wings enveloping around her, keeping her safe within the semi-darkness, and his hands remained in her hair, the shadows still coiling around her in a comforting manner.

Finally, Eira pulled back and he lowered his wings...the others had given them privacy and had gone out on the balcony, though as soon as he lowered his wings, Rhys met his gaze as their family returned inside.

The sound of the door opening echoed in his ears, his eyes shifting from his mate to their friends as they stepped back inside the room.

Rhys met his eyes for a moment, a small flicker of sympathy in his friend’s expression as Azriel continued to hold his mate close.

"There is food laid out outside if you want any," Feyre broke the silence softly.

Azriel nodded, barely more than a dip of the head, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a small, grateful smile.

He had no appetite. The thought of food repulsed him now, especially since it didn’t feel like something he could handle keeping down. He could feel his stomach churning at the thought, an almost nausea churning through him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get anything down his throat even if he wanted to.

Eira rubbed over her face, wiping away her tears.

"If you don't want to come to tonight's dinner, you can stay here," Rhys said quietly. "Maybe it would even be for the best. Give everybody some time to calm down..."

Azriel felt a small wave of relief wash over him at Rhys’s words, and he felt his shoulders relax for a moment.

That was a good idea. That was a damn good idea, and he would not mind at all staying in the room for the night, with his mate by his side where no one would be able to hurt her.

"You want to go?" he asked gently, reaching out with one hand to touch Eira's face and she shook her head, before she gasped, one hand shooting out to catch his hand.

Her face crumbled as she examined it and he stared down onto his own hand...the scarred skin...nearly charred in place. He hadn't even felt it.

His eyes widened slightly as he felt her grip on his hand. He had been so focused on her, on her tears and her anger, on her grief and her pain, that he hadn’t even noticed the burns that were now covering almost half of his hand and fingers.

His skin was blistered and raw, the flesh almost charred , and it was only now that she had pointed it out that he actually saw how bad it was.

"...I am so sorry," Eira whimpered. "I didn't want to...the lightning...I hit you..."

He had never seen such a look of anguish on her face, never seen her look so full of hurt and horror and remorse, and his heart broke all over again at the sight.

"You didn’t do anything, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It was an accident, that’s all. Don’t worry about it, Eira, it’s alright…"

"It's not alright," she disagreed, her voice broken. "How can you say that? I burned you!"

"It wasn’t your fault, love," he said, trying to infuse his voice with reassurance. "You didn’t do it on purpose, you didn’t mean to, it was just an accident. I’m fine, really."

The last thing his precious mate should be doing was apologising for something completely out of her control.

"Let me see," Cassian said calmly.

Azriel didn’t want to let go of Eira, didn’t want to pull his hand away from her, but Cassian seemed surprisingly determined.

So he carefully extricated his burned hand from his mate’s grip and held it out for the his brother to see.

"Does it hurt?" his brother asked with a grimace. He just shook his head. At least the numbness was good for something for once.

The numbness made the whole ordeal a lot less painful than it could have been, and as he looked at his burned hand, he honestly thought that it wasn’t all that bad.

He’d dealt with a whole lot worse over the centuries, a lot worse, and he had suffered so much pain in his life that this hardly even registered at this point.

He would rather go through the pain of more burns than not give Eira even just a modicum of comfort.

"We'll put some burn cream on that and wrap it up," Cassian said easily, after turning Azriel’s hand over and looking at it. "He had worse, Eira," he promised his mate.

Eira was still watching his burned hand, her eyes filled with pain and guilt, and she was chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at the red, blistered flesh on his hand. She didn’t look at all consoled, and her expression was still filled with that guilt and that anguish, and he could practically see the thoughts running through her mind at the moment.

“I didn’t mean to,” she repeated weakly.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he said gently as gently as he could. "You didn’t mean to, and you were upset, completely understandably so. We know you didn’t want this, and there’s nothing to apologise for. You didn’t do anything wrong."

He wanted to take her hands into his, but his burned hand was still on display, so he settled for stroking her cheek instead.

"You did very well in controlling your lightning," Rhys said quietly. "I expected much worse, to be honest,” he admitted drily.

Cassian just nodded in agreement. “You didn’t even torch any furniture!”

Azriel chuckled a little, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a weak smile.

It had been in the back of his mind as well. He had fully expected her powers to cause just a little bit more….destruction than just a slight singe to his skin.

"This isn't funny," Eira said, her voice breaking, even as the shadows appeared with wrapping and burn cream that they handed to her.

She snatched the wrapping and the burn cream from the shadows, and Azriel’s smile instantly vanished as he saw her expression.

She still looked tortured , still looked heartbroken.

"May...May I...." her voice was broken.

"Of course, Sweetheart," he said gently, his voice soft as he held his burned hand out towards her.

His heart clenched again, as she took his hand and began spreading the cream over his skin, her own fingers trembling slightly as she continued to work. Her touch was so gentle, so soft, and she was clearly trying her hardest not to hurt him any more than she had already done, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t feel it anyway.

Her guilt was written all over her face.

“It’s not funny,” Feyre agreed with a sigh.

"I don't think anyone is pretending that what just happened was funny," Azriel said quietly, still watching as his mate tended to his burnt hand.

It wasn’t funny. None of what had happened with Elain was funny in the slightest.

"We're just...surprised that you had as much control over your powers as you did," Rhys said quietly. "And impressed, honestly. It could have easily been much worse than a few burned fingers."

Azriel nodded. Somehow, miraculously, Eira had managed to control her powers even as that grief and that anger overwhelmed her. It was a testament to her strength, and to how much she did care about him and the others if she had managed to keep as much control over her powers as she had.

He knew she hadn’t lost control at all - she was clearly still completely aware of her actions, and he had seen it the moment that she had started to become more and more upset, she had stopped the lightning when she had burned his hand.

She stopped with the cream, wrapping his hand in the length of linen the shadows had brought her.

She was being incredibly careful as she carefully wrapped the linen around his hand, her touch so gentle and soft, as if she was afraid of hurting him.

Azriel smiled weakly at her, trying to send some sort of comfort her way, and as she finally tied the last knot, he lifted his now bandaged hand and squeezed her fingers gently.

"Thank you, Sweetheart," he said gently.

He wanted to add something more, to assure her once again that she had nothing to feel guilty over, but the words stuck in his throat, and he was unable to say anymore.

He just kept looking into her eyes, trying to tell her with simply his gaze that he didn’t blame her in the slightest for what had happened.

He could still see the guilt written all over her face, that grief and that pain still in her eyes, but he could also see the love, the care, as she looked at him, and he reached up with his uninjured hand to gently cup her cheek.

He hoped she was starting to feel better, starting to understand that he didn’t blame her for anything, that he didn’t care if she had accidentally burned his hand, that it was the least of his worries at the moment.

"Are you going to be alright if we leave you here?" Rhys asked, his eyes flickering to Eira.

Azriel tightened his grip on her fingers, hoping to comfort her, and she jerked her head in a nod, finally returning her attention to the others.

It was a jerky, weak movement, that shaky nod and his heart ached at the sight of it.

He hated seeing her like this — so fragile, so hurt, and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to just pull her into his arms and keep her there.

He had never been particularly good with words, not like Rhys or Cassian or Feyre — Hell, he couldn’t express his feelings at all most of the time and he wasn’t any good at comforting people either.

But right now all he wanted to do was just hold her, to be able to make her feel at least a little better after...after everything that had happened today.

His heart clenched again, at the memory of that beautiful image of the family they could have had, but he pushed the thought aside quickly, as he had done all day.

No, he would not think about what could have been.

Right now, he only wanted to focus on what was in front of him, here, with Eira.

***

She felt awful.

Every time she looked at Azriel's burned hand, the sight of the white bandage made her insides twist, a wave of nausea washing over her.

There was a horrible, heavy weight in her stomach, and guilt still choked her, no matter how much he tried to assure her that it was an accident, that it was not her fault.

It was her fault. She had hurt him. Even when she hadn't done it on purpose, she still had hurt him.

He was her mate. They were supposed to be each other’s rock, supposed to provide a comfort and a safe place for one another, and yet here she had burned him. Eira felt tears welling in her eyes again, the weight in her stomach almost crushing her.

Azriel didn’t blame her, tried to comfort her and tell her he wasn’t upset, that his burned hand didn’t bother him at all, but that just made her feel worse.

He had been hurt, he had been injured, and yet he didn’t care, and she just didn't understand why, she didn't get how he could just pretend like that didn't even matter.

"Eira, I don't even feel it," Azriel said quietly, as she fussed with the wrapping again. "My hands are pretty much numb on a good day.”

It were just the two of them, Rhys, Feyre, Cassian and Nesta down at whatever Dinner and Dancing thing Helion was throwing the night before Elain and Lucien’s wedding.

Just the two of them.

The shadows had procured a tray out of cheese, bread and cut meats for dinner, but neither had even looked at it yet.

She was still picking at the end of the wrapping she had tied around his hand, making sure that it was perfect, and she was not looking at him, too ashamed of herself to meet his eyes, knowing that if she looked at him she would probably burst into tears again.

Hearing his words, she felt a wave of pain hit her once more.

It was bad enough that she had hurt him, but to hear him say that he could barely even feel it…

"I am sorry," she apologised again, her voice weak. "I just got so...angry."

"You don’t have to keep apologising," he said gently, his voice still soft, as always.

She winced, still fiddling with the wrapping, still trying to make sure it was as perfect as she could possibly make it, even though she knew that he wasn’t even in pain, that the burn probably wasn’t even bothering him.

It hurt her just to think about it, knowing that he had suffered because of her…

“Eira, I’ll take a burned hand anyway if me holding your hand comforted you in any way,” he told her seriously. She swallowed.

Master will be fine, the shadows whispered. It will be fine.

She hoped it would be. She wished desperately it would be.

She returned to sit down next to him, hesitantly holding his other hand, the one that she hadn’t burned and he squeezed hers in response, not for one moment seemingly hesitation to touch her, even when she had just shown him that she could hurt him.

"Can I…Can I ask you a question?" Azriel asked her, his voice hesitant.

Her body froze for a moment. She didn’t look at him, still feeling too ashamed of herself to meet his gaze, but she just nodded.

"Of course," she responded. “What is it?”

"You said that you stuffed your ears with cotton wool for the better part of 2 years so you could sleep," Azriel said quietly.

Her fingers froze again, her heartbeat speeding up slightly, and she finally forced herself to look at him, her breaths getting a little shorter as he mentioned her sleeping habits.

She didn’t like having that particular topic brought up, didn’t like talking about the fact that she couldn’t sleep for months without muffling the world around her first.

It wasn’t a question, but she knew what he meant.

"...I hear so much more now than I ever did as a human," Eira explained quietly. "The...adjustment period was difficult." That was an understatement.

"It must have been hard for you," he said softly.

She looked up at him. His expression was gentle as he looked at her, his eyes holding nothing but sympathy and care.

He didn’t look at all judgmental, he just looked concerned, like he wanted to know more, like he wanted to understand her, and it was that expression in his eyes, the care and the kindness, that made her heart clench.

"It's nothing," she waved him off, but Azriel kept hold of her hand.

"It's not nothing," Azriel disagreed. "Getting thrown into that cauldron was traumatic for you, Eira. It's alright if you aren't over it yet."

She shivered, the memory of being thrown into the cauldron rising up in her mind.

Pain, fire, darkness. She had been in a living nightmare, and as much as she had tried, as much as she had tried to forget about it, she could still feel it, could still feel that same pain as if she was right back in that cauldron all over again.

"I didn't adjust better than Elain or Nesta," Eira finally said quietly. "I didn't have visions. I didn't have death crawling under my skin. But I...the only reason I functioned was for them."

He squeezed her fingers gently as she spoke, listening to her quietly.

She kept going, the words pouring out of her like a waterfall as she spoke.

"I couldn't just...sit around all day and be, I had to be doing something, I had to be helping, I had to keep going because that's all I had," she said shakily, her breaths getting faster. "It felt like I was going out of my mind all the time, I needed to be useful, I needed to do something. If I didn't...if I didn't...then I...."

"What happened then?" Azriel asked quietly.

Her breathing was speeding up now, that awful twisting feeling in her stomach coming back in full force, as she thought about those months just after being made.

"It was bad," she whispered. "It was bad. Everything seemed like too much and not enough at the same time. It didn't matter, what I wore, it felt like sandpaper against my skin. Everything was too loud. Every food was too much. Everything was..." she trailed off.

"Overwhelming?" Azriel offered gently.

She just nodded at his words.

It had been overwhelming, every single damn thing overloading her senses, every sound, every sight, every taste, every single emotion.

She couldn't shut it all out, couldn't block everything away until it stopped hurting, and that had been the worst part.

"I hid underneath the bed. Or in the bathing chamber. Or in the closet," she admitted ashamedly. "Everywhere where it was small and dark and quiet. And then I sat down and I rocked back and forth like a child and hummed so I didn't need to hear anything else. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to exist. I wanted to crawl into a hole and..."

She stopped, her words choking off, but she knew that Azrael could guess what she had wanted to say.

He knew that she had wanted to die, in those dark moments after she had been made, she had wanted to just crawl into a hole and let the world forget about her, she had wanted to just disappear and never come back.

"I didn't want to be Fae," she said weakly. "I...I wanted to be human. I didn't want pointy ears or immeasurable power. I wanted a husband and children."

That was exactly what she had wanted — a husband, children, and a normal, peaceful life, without power and magic and a strange, immortal body.

But what she wanted didn’t matter, it never had mattered, and she had been made into a Fae anyway.

Everything she had wanted, all the dreams and wishes she had had as a humanity, had all been snatched away from her the moment she had been thrown into the cauldron.

Just gone, just taken, and there was nothing she could do to get it back.

"You wanted to have a normal life," he said quietly.

She shrugged.

“I thought that was all I could have,” she responded weakly. "I always thought I wanted a normal husband. And then...then you walked into that dining room and suddenly all I wanted was this handsome man with wings sprouting out of his back."

A small smile tugged at his lips at her words.

He didn’t say anything, just watched her with a small, affectionate smile, and his gaze was gentle as he looked at her as if he understood everything she was feeling just by holding her like this.

"Is it better now?" he asked her quietly.

She shrugged. "I don't want to throw myself from the balcony any longer or cut off my ears, so yes," she admitted weakly.

He let out a quiet exhale at her words, and she could feel the slight tension in his muscles as if just the thought of her hurting herself was hurting him.

Without saying anything, he pulled her close, wrapping both his arms around her and holding her against his chest.

"You wanted to do that." It wasn't a question.

She could feel the tension in his muscles as he said that, and she buried her face into his chest.

"I know it's ridiculous," she whispered. "All of you have survived so much worse and there was I and I just...but I didn't want this. I never wanted to fight, to be a warrior..."

He closed his eyes, resting their foreheads together and his lips brushed over hers in a soft, aching kiss.

"It's not ridiculous," he told her quietly.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter as she spoke, one of his hands running through her hair as if trying to soothe her.

"You were forced into a world you never wanted," he said, his voice soft. "You didn’t ask for any of this."

"I tried to find the positive. I tried to...At the start, I told myself that...I couldn't have you as a human, but maybe as a fae...That maybe that was the reason why the cauldron hadn't outright murdered me,” she admitted weakly.

"Gods, Sweetheart," he grounded out. "I am so sorry."

"It’s not your fault," she whispered, her voice shaky as she buried her face in his chest again.

She hated feeling like this — vulnerable and weak, and for what? Because being made into a fae had hurt her feelings? It all seemed so damn stupid.

He just shook his head, his arms tightening around her again.

She felt safe in his arms like nothing could hurt her here, and a part of her wished she could stay right here, tucked away in his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

"And what did you tell yourself when you thought it was never going to happen between us?" he asked her weakly. "What did you tell yourself then, Eira?"

"Feyre had enough other things to worry about, I didn't want to add to that," she admitted weakly. "I didn't want to hurt her. Hurt Nesta or Elain."

His hand froze in her hair, and she could hear him taking a slow, measured breath as if he were trying to keep himself calm.

He didn't say anything, just sat there holding her, and she could feel the muscles in his arms, still wrapped around her, tensing up, as if he was refraining himself from holding her even tighter.

"I wasn't really gonna do it," she said weakly. "I didn't want to bother anybody just because I couldn’t adjust. And it did get better. I still have bad days, but it's not as bad as it used to be."

He kept his eyes closed, burying his face in her hair as he just held her. She could feel his body shaking against her, if only very weakly, and his breaths were shaky and uneven, and guilt flared up in her chest again.

"I am sorry," she apologised. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Gods, Eira," Azriel said, his voice like gravel. "My mate just told me that she thought that throwing herself off a balcony or cutting off her ears seemed like a fucking solution at one point, and you are apologising for hurting me?" he asked her, shaking his head as he looked at her.

“I could have lost you before I even…before I even got to have this with you,” he said, his voice broken, cupping his cheek, resting his forehead against hers.

"I wouldn't have done it," she said weakly.

"You don't have to apologise for anything," Azriel said, his voice still a wreck as he spoke.

He tightened his arms around her again, holding her so tight against his chest that it was almost painful.

"You didn’t do anything wrong," he said softly. "You didn’t have a choice, and I...gods, Eira. I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, that I didn't notice you."

The raw emotion in his voice made her chest ache, and a lump rose in her throat.

She didn’t want him to feel guilty for any of this, but the way he spoke, the way he held her so tightly like he was scared she would disappear the moment he let go...there was no doubt that he blamed himself.

"...It's not you're fault," she whispered, finally bringing her own arms up to wrap around him, holding onto him just as tightly.

He just shook his head, refusing to listen to her, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could, his hands shaking from how tightly he was holding her as if he was scared that she would disappear the moment he let go of her.

"I am sorry," he murmured, his voice just a broken whisper, his arms tight around her.

She could feel him shaking against her, his breaths still unsteady, and the only thing she wanted to do right now was to take away his pain, to give him some sort of comfort, but she didn't even know how she was supposed to do that.

"Azriel," she said quietly, reaching up with a hand to cup his cheek.

He closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she touched him, and she gently turned his face so he was looking at her again, and the aching grief and guilt in his eyes made her chest ache.

"I am better now," she promised him. "I will not do any of these things. I swear."

He let out another shaky exhale, his eyes finally opening again. "You won't," he said firmly, not a question, but a statement.

He moved a hand, gently cradling her face in his palm as he looked at her. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and she leaned into his touch almost involuntarily.

"Promise me," he said gently, his voice aching. "Promise me that you won't do anything to hurt yourself."

He held her gaze as he spoke, his eyes shining with a strange, fierce desperation, and she couldn't even dream of refusing him as he looked at her like that.

"...I promise," she whispered.

His expression eased slightly at her words, and he let out a long, shaky exhale, burying his face back in her hair again, still holding her tight against him.

"I am better now," she promised. "I have bad days, but I don't want to do any of this anymore."

"The next time you have a bad day, you come to me. Or to somebody else. You'll tell us," he demanded quietly.

She closed her eyes, burrowing her face in his chest again, unable to look at the almost desperate expression in his eyes.

She should have expected that he would demand something like this, would demand of her that she wouldn't just...keep everything to herself, that she wouldn't just try to deal with it alone, but the fact that he was begging her, that he was almost pleading with her like this…

"Only if you do the same," she whispered.

He paused for a moment, just holding her against him again, and she could feel the tension in his muscles, still wrapped around her, still so close and tight. He was silent for several long moments, almost long enough to make her think he would refuse, and then he finally spoke.

"...Alright," he whispered. "I promise I will."

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